Read Giving In Online

Authors: Alison Tyler

Giving In (3 page)

BOOK: Giving In
7.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

That didn’t mean I stomped my way to Sasha’s room. I still tiptoed, as quietly as possible. I wanted to watch. I didn’t even question the desire in myself. I yearned to see everything, to hear each word.

At the door, I noticed the same sliver of light as I had on the previous night. I came closer, closer, and then peeked inside. There was Sasha. But this time, she was over Lou’s lap. He had a paddle in his hand—one that looked like a fraternity paddle, wooden, with holes drilled through in a uniform pattern. The chef was off to one side, and she seemed to be speaking to Lou, directing him. I crossed my legs and watched.

No, she wasn’t directing, she was assisting. She was holding a tray of different sex toys and a bottle of lubrication. She looked exactly the same to me as she had when offering me my meal earlier in the evening, setting items from the tray in front of me, pouring me a glass of wine. Except now, she was pouring K-Y between Sasha’s cheeks and then offering a molded-glass butt plug to Lou.

Did Venice artists blow these types of glass artifacts? That would be a souvenir tour I’d be willing to attend. I stifled a giggle. Then felt a pair of arms around my waist. I stiffened. This was not Lou, making sure I didn’t need anything. I turned to come face-to-face with Stefan, and my heart felt as if it had forgotten how to beat. He had his tie and jacket off now. His shirtsleeves were rolled to the elbows, and his collar was unbuttoned.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “Come with me.”

He took me to the room adjoining Sasha’s. There was only one small light on in the far corner. I was surprised to see that the room was set up in almost the exact opposite of Sasha’s. The mirror image. Oh, the
mirror
. Stefan took me closer, and now I saw that the mirror looked into Sasha’s room.

“You like to watch,” he said. “This will give you a better vantage point.”

“I…”

“Don’t worry, Ellis.” He ran his fingers through my hair, then kissed me, once, on the lips, exactly as I’d fantasized about after dinner. I wanted more. I wanted him to take me to the bed and do all the things to me that Lou and the chef were doing to Sasha. But I couldn’t find my voice. “Sit here. Watch. We’ll talk in the morning.”

I looked wildly around the room, and I saw that all of my belongings had been brought to this room while I’d slept. Stefan seemed to take note of my realization, because he said, “This is where you will sleep tonight.” One more kiss. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

People didn’t behave like this in the real world, did they? Nothing even remotely like this had ever happened to me before. Not outside of the dirty fairy tales that I wrote for my own pleasure, ones that only Sasha had been privy to reading. I thought about that as I sat in front of the mirror. The stories I’d given her over the years were fairy tales set in modern times—filthy stories set in New York. Had she given the stories to Stefan? Is that what he’d meant when he said he liked my writing?

It was clear to me that he had read my words, as he walked into the room occupied by the chef and Lou. Because wasn’t this one of my all-time fantasies? I watched as Stefan bent Sasha over the bed. She had that butt plug between her cheeks, and he rocked the base of it gently. I couldn’t hear the sounds she made, but I could imagine. He removed the plug and then began to spank her once more. He was such a handsome dom, the way he stood, the way he moved. He punished my friend with hard, even strokes.

I started to touch my pussy as he spanked her. I couldn’t stop myself. I put my feet up on the marble table in front of the mirror, parted my thighs and stroked my pussy through my bikini bottoms. I was dripping wet already.

Somewhere in my mind I realized that the table on which I’d placed my feet was undoubtedly a priceless antique. But I couldn’t worry about that. I needed access. Sasha was taking the punishment well. She didn’t flinch or try to get out of the way. That is, not until Stefan motioned to the chef that he wanted something. What? What was he reaching for?

I saw her hand him a thin-looking weapon and my stomach dropped. A crop? Sasha turned to look over her shoulder, and she started to stand. There was Lou, moving quickly, holding her in place by her wrists. I realized I wasn’t breathing, and I sucked in a great breath of air as Stefan struck the first blow. Sasha definitely responded to this. Maybe the hand spanking had been more of a warm-up. She squirmed and flailed, but Lou held her in place. Stefan parted her legs, and touched her in between. I felt myself growing more aroused by the second. I was watching a dirty scenario starring players I knew, but I felt as if I were viewing an X-rated movie put on solely for my enjoyment. I’d never been part of anything like this before.

I thought of the stories I’d written over the years. The first time I’d given Sasha one to read, I’d been embarrassed. She’d never seemed that into sex before. She’d written me a note back drawing a picture of herself with the words
Me and My Halo
, letting me know then that although she might appear pristine and perfect, she had a slight deviant streak. But she’d never talked about putting any of the themes in my stories into play.

Apparently, she did.

Then the chef came into view, and I realized, I’d forgotten about her. She took Lou’s position, not holding Sasha’s wrists, but moving to her side, stroking her hair, kissing her. I wasn’t going to last much longer, I realized. I climbed onto the marble table so I could get as close to the action as possible. What would they say if I joined them, I wondered? What would Stefan do if I walked out of my room and into Sasha’s? Is that what they hoped for? Was this their genteel style of an engraved invitation?

For some reason, I couldn’t. I sat there, watching as Lou stood behind Sasha, and I understood when he started fucking her. I could hear the sounds, but not the words he said. The cadence, like a lullaby of how he spoke to her. I saw Stefan leave, and I wondered if he would come to my room, if he would find me up on the table and scold me or stroke me or spank me.

But I remained alone, all night, watching Lou and the chef make love to Sasha until the light in that room went out and I was all by myself.

* * *

In the morning, I found Sasha in a transparent nightgown on the veranda, standing and looking out at the water. I could see through the filmy material that her ass was still red. This brought back instant memories of the night before. My pussy clenched. Once the debauchery had ended, I’d spent the remainder of the previous night fucking myself with the vibrator while listening to my favorite songs. The iPod had been preprogrammed with music I adored. Someone knew my music tastes better than Pandora.

Sasha was drinking from a champagne flute. She didn’t turn to me until I reached her side. When she did, her face lit up.

“Did you sleep well, Ellis?”

I stared at her. Sleep? Was another day going to pass where we were not going to talk about what I’d seen? Were we going to pretend that this was some normal vacation, where we’d take a boat out to the glass factory and buy paperweights and overpriced knickknacks?

“I don’t think she slept for more than twenty minutes.”

The voice surprised me. I turned to address Stefan.

“How do you know that?” I asked before I could stop myself. Was it rude to challenge so generous a host?

“Because I watched you.”

Without hesitation, I took Sasha’s champagne glass from her and began to drink. I had to work not to chatter the rim of the glass against my teeth. Sasha was smiling at me. I’d never seen her look so peaceful before. Was someone going to tell me how he had watched me? Was there another two-way mirror in the bedroom? Were the guest rooms fitted with video cameras?

But nobody spoke. Stefan reached for Sasha and brought her close to him. While I stood there, drinking her champagne, he bent her over the stone railing and lifted the back of her nightgown, exposing her beautiful ass. I’d worked out with Sasha at the gym before—she brought me in with her as a guest, like a city mouse taking pity on a poor Nautilus-deprived country mouse. I knew how hard she sweated to keep her body in shape. Now, I knew why.

“Did you enjoy watching me punish her?” he asked.

I stared at my feet. I was wearing my last best pair of shoes. Even these were scuffed, and if you flipped them over, you’d see holes in the soles.

“The answer isn’t on your knock-off patent-leather mules,” he said.

“I know.” I liked the way he spoke, the way he described my footwear.

“How did you react?” he asked next. “What were you thinking?” While I watched, he stroked Sasha’s ass. I felt a catch in my throat. How I wanted him to do that to me. But people didn’t behave like this. Not in the really real world.

“I don’t know,” I stammered.

“Then let’s try it again so we can see.”

Part of me wanted to run back to my room, to repack my bags, to get out of this place. I had never experienced anything like this before. I didn’t know how to behave. The other part of me wanted to stay exactly where I was. Due to the fact that I truly had no place to go—this was the end of my rock-island line—I held my ground. Stefan seemed pleased.

“I’ll spank her. You watch. Then you tell me how you feel.”

I sucked in my breath. He let his hand connect with her naked ass. He didn’t hit her hard, and I was aware that something in me wished he had. He smacked her again. Then he smiled at me. He was playing a game, giving her soft little love pats. I wanted to see him let loose. What was going on inside of me? I felt all twisted and bent. I wanted to watch a man who was practically a stranger punish my best friend.

“This is Venice,” a voice said behind me. I turned and saw the chef with a bottle of champagne. She motioned to my glass and I held it out, waiting for the refill. I felt as if I hadn’t drunk a sip. Not that my head was clear, but that my edge was still sharp. Nothing in my brain was fuzzy or hazy. I craved release.

“Thank you, Bonnie,” Stefan said.

I drained the second glass while I tried to process the tableau in front of me.

“Do you like this, Ellis?” Stefan asked.

I wanted him to smack her, to give her a proper thrashing. He tapped her again. I felt like an animal, caged. “Am I doing something wrong?” he asked innocently. Anger flickered through me. He was fucking with me, and I didn’t know how to respond.

“You’re not spanking her the way you did before,” I said.

“How did I spank her?”

Was he really asking me this? I wanted to be able to talk freely, but I realized that I never had. I’d always measured out my thoughts, considered my words. And where had that gotten me? Stefan seemed to understand what I was thinking.

“Here, things are different,” he said. “You’ll get used to the way we behave. I know you will. Relax. Enjoy yourself. And answer my question.”

“That first night, you spanked her hard,” I said, “so that I could hear the sound all the way to my bedroom.”

“That was the point, wasn’t it?”

Oh, so he’d been calling to me with the sounds of his hand on her ass. I felt my pussy spasm. I could not believe that I’d be able to get off again. Not after fucking myself with the vibrator for most of the night, falling into twitchy slumber, only to wake up in a state of lust-drenched hunger once more. Bonnie refilled my glass. I sipped and waited. What was the game we were playing now? What were the rules?

“Tell me precisely what you saw.”

“You had her over your lap, and you were spanking her hard, and she was crying.”

“Did you like that?”

I nodded, embarrassed to admit how much pleasure her pain had given me.

“What did watching do for you?”

“It made my…”

“Say it.”

I sucked in my breath. “It made my pussy wet.” I felt defiant as I spoke the words, tilting my chin at Stefan. I felt both powerful and insolent at the same time. If I were him, I’d have slapped my face. But he seemed decidedly proud I’d finally found my voice.

“What else did I do?”

“On the first night, you played with her….” I didn’t want to describe what I’d seen, but the way Stefan was looking at me somehow drew the words from my lips. “You were playing with her asshole, telling her that Lou was going to fuck her there.”

“Good girl,” Stefan said, and I felt a strange flush of dignity swell over me. Bonnie took that moment to put an arm around my waist and kiss me, and I felt lost and shaky once more.

“You are my guest,” Uncle Stefan said, breaking my reverie. “You are not responsible for doing any chores, paying for any food or entertainment. There is only one thing I expect of you.” I stared at him. “You must answer when I ask you a question.”

That seemed simple, didn’t it? More than fair. Until he said, “How about you? Do you like to have your asshole fucked?”

I didn’t want to answer that. Nobody had ever spoken like that to me in my entire life. Yes, I’d had boyfriends. But I’d had the kind of boyfriends I thought you were supposed to date. Nice, sweet, with good jobs—at least, they’d all been that way on the surface. But something had gone wrong every time. Not in the bedroom, not necessarily. I’d never meshed. I’d thought it was me. This is why I’d written my stories.

Sasha looked over her shoulder. I had never seen her like this before. She was letting a man touch her, control her, debase her. The heat in her eyes showed me that she liked the situation. I knew she could answer Uncle Stefan’s question for me. I’d been honest with Sasha about all of my past relationships. She could have said, “No, Ellis has only dated men who like to do her missionary style, with all the lights out.” But she kept quiet.

“No,” I said, looking at my feet, at the marbled patio.

There was silence then, and I wondered if I’d done something wrong until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, surprised. The pretty chef was stroking my arm. She seemed to be trying to offer me comfort, or at least support.

I looked at our host. He was smiling. “Was that difficult for you?” I nodded. “It will get easier. I promise.”

I couldn’t hold my tongue. “What will?”

“Giving in.”

The chef refilled my champagne glass once more as Sasha stood up and rearranged her nightgown. The gossamer fabric billowed around her when she moved. I watched as she gave me the tiniest smile and then headed back into the villa. Stefan came over to the chef and said something to her. She nodded. I watched as he followed Sasha. I could feel my heart starting to pound faster. All of this felt like a dream. Maybe I would wake up in my cousin’s tiny apartment. I’d search for change in my drawers, in the bottom of my purse, knowing there was none to be found. I’d wonder whether I could slink back to one of my exes and beg for a few days on his futon. The nightmare of my life would make this fantasy dream fade away.

BOOK: Giving In
7.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Warlock by Glen Cook
Rule of Night by Trevor Hoyle
2012 by Whitley Strieber
My Daughter, My Mother by Annie Murray
Hatter by Daniel Coleman
The Mountain Can Wait by Sarah Leipciger
The Honeywood Files by H.B. Creswell
Courage by Joseph G. Udvari
The Boss's Baby Affair by Tessa Radley