Crimson's Captivation (2 page)

She went back in time to where she and Viktor
were under a large willow tree. They were both eighteen but he was
far too eager to become a man and was clumsy and quick. His kisses
were too hurried and his hands were lumbering. She was disappointed
in the haste of the clandestine tryst and wasn’t even sure he did
it right. She didn’t climax, but the encounter felt right to her
heart, and she felt a connection to Viktor. She was willing to give
him more and more chances to please her. “Yes, by Viktor.” She
delivered the answer on a soft reminiscent breath.

“I see, and how old is Viktor?” the
chambermaid asked as she massaged rose oil on Crimson’s forearm and
wrist. The other chambermaids stopped humming and waited for the
answer.

“Eighteen.”

“Ah, just a boy. Tonight you will be taken by
a man.”

“I’ve been bitten, haven’t I?” Crimson asked
as she eyed the woman closest to her.

“Yes, by Kieran, my lady.”

“Am I?”

“No, you’re not a vampire. You’re a vampeel,
half human, half vampire. Try to hold on to your memories, as they
will try to escape. Just lie back and remember all that was
important to you. We’ll get you ready for the bid.”

“For the bid?” Crimson asked, afraid of the
answer.

Just then, the door creaked open and Crimson
watched Kieran enter the room. Crimson recognized him from the path
and her heart began to thump in her chest. She tried to pull her
knees to her chest, tried to pull the bed covers up over her to
conceal her naked body but couldn’t. She felt exposed and vibrant
at the same time.

In the doorway, Kieran was tall and muscular.
His black hair framed his face and flowed to his shoulders where it
disappeared into a silhouette. His white shirt draped his muscular
frame and she could make out the hard contours of his chest,
shoulders, and arms underneath. In his black leather pants, she
could see the shape of his cock tucked along his left thigh and her
mouth watered just a bit. She pushed away the thought even though
it flooded her body with just a suggestion of excitement. Helpless,
she closed her eyes, trying her best to disappear.

“Is she ready?” Kieran asked the lead
chambermaid.

“Yes.” The chambermaids answered in
unison.

“Very well, she is beautiful and the bidders
will trip over themselves to have her.”

Kieran waved the chambermaids to the side of
the room. Kieran approached her and Crimson felt even more naked
without the buffer of her new companions, and again struggled
against the straps. He sat on the bed near her hips.

Crimson looked away to the far wall. She
found a tapestry of a couple engaged in oral sex, the subjects
seemed to come to life and she could hear the distant moans of
their sultry and fearless mouths. She tilted her hips away from him
and defensibly asked, “Do you know who I am?” Her body seemed to
crave him and she didn’t know how to deal with the sensation.

“Yes, you’re Crimson, lineage to Sweden and
sister of Princess Sophia,” Kieran answered as he leaned toward her
and placed his left hand on her shoulder. His right hand rested on
the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. He whispered,
“Listen, you’ll be presented for the bid soon. The chambermaids
will offer you fluid and I suggest you consume it.” He ran his hand
up her leg and her flesh quivered. She felt her flesh had a mind of
its own and that her body had become a traitor. She was in a state
of dismay when her body rotated, making her breast available to
him, to his view, to his hands, to his mouth. He kissed the outside
of her breast and his hand glided over her oiled hips and rested on
her fluttering stomach.

Crimson looked into his caramel colored eyes
and became mesmerized but he broke away, stood, and walked toward
the door, alas, Crimson couldn’t help but watch him exit.

“Finish the preparations, ladies!” he ordered
before the door closed behind him.

A bronze bell chimed twice near the door and
the chambermaids quickly tended to Crimson. The chambermaid who
spoke before whispered, “This is going to happen, and the liquid
eases you. You will enjoy it.” She then tied a dark ribbon around
Crimsons’ head covering her eyes. Crimson and the darkness again.
She considered when time is unlit, it seems to halt and she felt
trapped in a moment of anticipation. Butterflies flickered in her
stomach. The water drained from a nearby tub while Crimson was
rubbed with rose oil and sang to.

The chambermaids patted her with cotton
towels and when dry, Crimson could feel the soft silk of stockings
rolling up her legs, the sound of a garter snapping into place. A
leather skirt was wrapped around her and tied tightly in the back.
Finally, she was forced to sit up as an hourglass corset was placed
around her and adjusted, followed by a loose cotton blouse.

The chambermaid brought a goblet to Crimson’s
lips and insisted, “Drink, my lady, drink.”

Crimson sipped the fluid and went into a
trance that felt like a misty daydream without color, without
presence. Without worry.

“Will Kieran be the man? Will he take me?”
Crimson asked.

“No, dear.”

Crimson frowned and turned her head away.
“Then I will dream of Viktor.”

“Yes, my Lady. Dream of Viktor.”

Crimson’s hands were tied behind her back and
the bronze bell chimed again; three chimes echoed through the
bedchamber. Crimson could hear the door to the chamber creak open,
then muted male voices conversed with one of the chambermaids and
Crimson was seized at each elbow and escorted out of the room. Her
feet never touched the ground and she felt as light as a dove as
the drugs coursed through her veins. A bewildered duplicity washed
over her. She didn’t want this, but wanted the familiarity, the
excitement of it.

In the corridor outside the room, there was
the smell of burnt carbon from oil burning lamps. From behind her
blindfold, she could sense the shapes of light shift from light to
darkness as she moved through a circular hallway. They were moving
in a lazy circle and she knew they were moving to the center of the
lower level of a castle. Two doors opened in front of her and the
echoes changed from the confinement of the hallway to that of a
large open chamber. Voices boomed off the stone walls.

Crimson was escorted into the gallery. Her
hands were untied and two chambermaids accompanied her to a
knee-high platform surrounded by a pool of water. The chambermaids
positioned Crimson on her back.

Crimson heard the slight murmur of a crowd,
but was still blindfolded, and couldn’t discern exactly what was
happening. Each time she reached to remove the blindfold; her hands
were pulled to her side. She had no strength to fight. She lay on
the warm table trying to catch her breath when another bell
chimed.

* * * *

The stud approached her. She was beautiful,
petite and young with strawberry blond hair. He pulled away her
blouse and massaged her breast over her corset. He watched her
chest heave with heavy breaths and was delighted when she didn’t
struggle. He was elated when her flesh seemed to crave him.

The stud deftly removed her corset, cupped
each breast, kissed and sucked on her firm, erect nipples,
teasingly biting just a little. He spun his tongue back and forth
over the firmness of her nipples until they stood proud and fixed
against his tongue.

He licked the outside flesh of her right
breast only stopping to gaze at her beauty and watch her chest move
with her heavy inhales. Her head tilted away but her body made
itself available to him. The chambermaids at her side whispered
shush to her over and over, and held her wrists tight to the table.
Crimson moaned and pushed her body toward him. He ran his hand down
her mid-section, circled her navel, lifted her skirt and pressed
his palm over the soft hairs of her pubis. He, then, pulled a knife
from his sheath.

The room filled with hushed voices, the
bidders quietly making bids while others leaned in for a better
view. The bidding moved rapidly, one gold bar, then another, and
then another. The highest bidder was a proxy from Russia’s Peter
the Great. The silent deals for such beauty had no bounds—they all
wanted her.

* * * *

Crimson tried to control her breathing,
tried not to want this, tried not to enjoy the attention of this
stranger and his attention. She didn’t
know how to fight the
flood of desire. These feelings were forbidden, yet she wanted them
so— a part of her seemed to welcome them. Her inner-soul kissed
each desire on the cheek as if they were long missed and forgotten.
As if they were finally home.

She felt something cold and hard across her
knee and run up it to her inner thigh, and a tugging of fabric.
Cool air hit her skin then and she knew he’d cut away the fabric of
her skirt. More tugging and she felt him rip the leather skirt off
her body and run his fingers over that imaginary line between navel
and her pubis. He slid his fingers lower, trailed them across her
skin to trace the garter belt to her white stockings.

Crimson could feel the strength of him,
could feel his coarse hands roam over her body and smell his sweat.
The small hairs of her body rose with anticipation. Her legs opened
just a little, her knees weakened, her body sensed gravity and grew
heavier with each breath. Her mouth opened and she closed her eyes
underneath the blindfold. The whispers of the crowd grew louder and
this, too, excited her. She fantasized that it was Viktor attending
to her but secretly hoped Kieran was watching. She hoped Kieran was
jealous.

With a groan, Crimson felt soft, warm lips
plant a kiss just above her knee, and then stay there, as though
the man hunted the intoxicating aroma of her excitement. She
imagined that the sweet smell of her rose oiled skin filled his
nostrils and excited him even more. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the
right elbow and right thigh and easily rolled her onto her
stomach.

Crimson instinctively knew the position and
arched her back, raising her butt into the air and pushed it toward
him. She lowered her head onto the stone platform, pulled her
bottom lip into her mouth, and slightly bit down with anticipation.
She waited, and waited. It seemed an eternity. She wanted to reach
back and feel the tightness of his flesh, to run her hands along
his chest and powerful thighs, but the chambermaids held her arms
in position, held her firm in position. Her nostrils filled with
the smell of sweet spice and leather and it all turned her on even
more.

The stud’s hands found her calf muscles and
with the slightest force, eased open her legs. He pulled the garter
to her knees in a rolled up knot of fabric. She was fully exposed
to him. He returned to her calves and left a trail of soft kisses
as he came up behind her.

* * * *

She was voluptuous and healthy. Her butt was
perfectly shaped. He was delighted to see she had dimples of Venus
on her lower back. His eyes followed her spine, trailed the length
of her to her cascading hair and noticed the beauty of the nape of
her neck.

His bare chest caressed her buttocks as he
moved to kiss each dimple on her lower back. He mounted behind her,
holding her hips in his hands and motioned for his chambermaid to
lower his pants. The chambermaid untied the leather string around
his waist, guided his pants to his knees and, with a flick of the
leather whip from the caretaker, the stud began.

Her beauty, her body, her innocence demanded
his attention and his cock stood erect and hard. It pulsed with
each heartbeat. He parted her legs further with his knees, until
the height was just right. The chambermaid clutched his shaft and
guided him toward the captive. The head of his organ found her
slick and wet, as the chambermaid massage her clitoris with the
stud’s head. Then he was set free. At first he felt her natural
resistance as she tightened around his shaft, but then was able to
push past her tender lips and fully immerse himself in her. She was
as smooth as silk and embodied the heat of a thousand suns. Soon
she was completely open to him and he began to thrust in a sensual
rhythm.

The woman moaned and pushed hard against his
pelvis as he extended his left arm and grabbed her shoulder pulling
her entire body toward him. He used his body with a growing need—a
force—which brought her to her palms. His right hand found her
tender breast as he slowly moved in and out of her. He heard
her whimper and knew she wanted more and he willingly obliged.

In the reflection of the pool of water, he
could see her mouth open with each deep thrust. He could hear her
deep exhales followed by whimpers of pleasure. Her lips and cheeks
were full and flushed. She pushed harder against him, savoring
every inch of him. She matched his rhythm, and pushed her buttocks
against him with such force that the sounds of their colliding
bodies echoed off the walls.

The sounds of colliding bodies, moans, and
heavy breathing were an aural pleasure for him and he used her
signals for their pleasure.

* * * *

The repetition, the silky friction of him
inside her led to a fiery ecstasy for Crimson.

Crimson had never reached orgasm before, and
the sensation erupted through her body, it out flowed through her
fingertips and held hostage her escaping breaths. For the moment,
she was a lucid emotion under closed eyelids, and the feeling tried
to escape with her breaths.

She felt an immense sense of gratification.
It incited her clitoris and flowed in waves of
pleasure—transporting the thunderbolts of delight through her, over
her. She was a puff of silvery smoke from a thousand muskets fired
in unison. She felt as though she floated above a distant
ceremonial battleground of passion, a field of pleasure.

A crack of leather whipped across the stud’s
calves, from a nearby caretaker, reminding the stud that he was not
entitled to such pleasure; he immediately obeyed, and stopped
thrusting behind her. Unsatisfied, he ached for release but could
only rest his buttocks on his heels. Straps tied to his wrists
pulled his hands away from Crimson’s hips. Pleasure of conclusion,
of fulfillment was not his. He could only watch as she pulled away,
then he fell onto his knees.