The Gift of Shame (33 page)

His nerves, already tense and jangling, were sent into a state of near panic when he heard her voice cut through the dimly lit room.

‘Don’t turn,’ she rapped. ‘Stay exactly as you are until I tell you otherwise.’

Rigid now Jeffrey waited, every fibre vibrant with anticipation. His ears tingling with the soft sounds of movement behind him and his nose filled with the heavy musky perfume she wore, Jeffrey inwardly begged for some sight of her.

When next she spoke she was close to his shoulder. ‘I intend asking much of you,’ she sighed into his ear. ‘A great deal more than you ever demanded of me. Do you understand?’

His throat closed, Jeffrey could only nod.

‘You will find that a woman can be far more pitiless than any man would know how to be.’ Jeffrey heard the slight sounds of Helen moving away from him and tensely waited until she spoke again. ‘In a moment you will turn and see the results of my morning’s shopping. It is on your reaction that our entire future depends. If you understand – nod.’

Jeffrey’s immediate assenting nod sent Helen’s confidence soaring. In truth she was almost as nervous as Jeffrey was excited and had to take a very deep breath before speaking again. ‘You may now turn and look at me,’ she said softly.

Hesitating a moment as he fervently prayed that he was not about to be disappointed or made ridiculous, Jeffrey turned and thought he saw, not Helen but a vision conjured out of his most fervent imaginings.

She stood tall in six-inch heels of closely fitted black leather boots and fishnets supported by eight garter straps suspended from the base of a scarlet leather basque. It was cut high over her hips, and rose over a tightly cinched waist to the breasts which were barely covered by a frill of black lace. About her throat was a collar, such as he had last seen on Carla, while on her face she wore a half-mask above which her hair was swept upwards to be caught by a glittering Spanish comb.

Aware that he was simply staring dumbfounded while Helen challengingly waited for his reaction, he allowed his weakened legs to speak for him as he sank to a kneeling position before her.

With a light delighted laugh Helen came forward to loom over him, legs spread, and letting him see the leather riding stick she
had
in her hands. Her question was superfluous but she insisted anyway. ‘Do you approve?’ she asked.

For answer Jeffrey let out a gurgle of excitement as he leant forward to kiss her boots.

‘I take it you do,’ she told him, turning away in a deliberately dismissive gesture only too aware of the electric shock-waves travelling up her arm, emanating from her tight grip about the riding stick. ‘Get on your feet,’ she told him and didn’t turn to look at him until the tiny sounds of his moving to obey subsided.

Still with her back turned, she spoke again. ‘I shall not tie you for your whipping since to do so would be to imply that I might be afraid of your reaction.’ Now turning to him, relieved to see he was even more aroused than previously, she went on. ‘I am not,’ she told him as she advanced on his now trembling figure. ‘However, now and for the last time you have the opportunity to dissent and leave. There will be no further opportunities for you so to do, so I suggest you give your answer very careful consideration.’

Finding voice for the first time since coming into her presence, Jeffrey spoke with assertive force. ‘You’re more than I hoped – everything I ever dreamt about.’

Finding his answer pleasing, she smiled. ‘And everything that went before was simply instruction in what you really wanted?’

Jeffrey nodded. ‘As I said earlier – you have found me out.’

Elated, it was Helen’s turn for the affirmative nod. ‘I trust you will find I proved an apt and attentive pupil.’

‘Do you still want to marry me?’ Helen asked as she lay on the bed while Jeffrey, obeying her instructions, furrowed with his tongue between her thighs.

‘More than ever,’ he breathed.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘You have my permission to make the arrangements.’

An air taxi brought them to a Las Vegas already brazenly lit by its night neon. The ceremony, with a minimum of attention to fussy detail, was conducted in a place called the ‘Wee Kirk o’ the Heather’ after which the happy couple retired to the honeymoon suite of a ludicrously over-decorated Casino Hotel.

There, Helen confronted her new husband.

‘Tonight you will do something – in full view of all the diners in the club restaurant – which you and I have never before dared. I want your sworn oath that you will not disappoint me – no matter what.’

His throat working nervously, Jeffrey felt bold enough to protest. ‘There’s no question that I’ll do whatever you tell me,’ he breathed. ‘But I would ask you to remember that the people that come to Las Vegas are not as sophisticated as in some cities. There might be trouble if it’s too explicit.’

Helen smiled. ‘It is
very
extreme.’ she smiled. ‘But you will obey – no matter what?’

Filled with apprehension he felt he had no other option but to agree.

Together, he dressed in a black-tie tuxedo, she in a flowing, newly purchased evening gown, they made a striking entrance into the almost-filled-to-capacity club room. Conducted to a table which seemed to have been carved from a jungle clearing, they were seated and served aperitifs.

Enjoying making him wait, Helen sipped at her drink and commented on the big-band dance music playing in the background. ‘The orchestra is very good, don’t you think?’ she asked of the tense Jeffrey.

‘Excellent,’ he said.

Helen sat back and appeared to be devoting her attention entirely to the music for some time before speaking again. ‘It’s time, darling,’ she said. ‘Time to test how far you dare to trust me.’

Even in the roseate glow of the table lamp Helen saw how suddenly he paled. ‘Look,’ he said as he rose to accompany her towards the dance floor. ‘I’m going to go through with it no matter what – just bear in mind what I said. These people are not the sophisticated kind we might meet in Paris or London.’

Pausing on the edge of the sparsely populated dance floor Helen smiled. ‘But you will do whatever it is I ask of you?’

Nervously, Jeffrey nodded. ‘What is it I have to do?’ he asked, his words made almost inaudible by apprehension.

‘As I told you – something you and I have never done before. Can’t you imagine what that might be?’

Shaking his head Jeffrey prepared himself for the worst.

‘What you are going to do – now, instantly, and before all these people – without regard to the consequences is …’ she let the sentence hang for some moments and enjoyed his stricken anticipation before going on ‘…
dance
with me.’

And dance they did.

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Epub ISBN 9780753518854

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This book is a work of fiction.
In real life, make sure you practise safe, sane and consensual sex.

First published by Black Lace 1994
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Copyright © Sarah Hope-Walker 1994

Sarah Hope-Walker has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
.

This edition published in Great Britain in 2008 by
Black Lace
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ISBN 9780352342027