The Closest Thing To Heaven

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The Closest Thing To HeavenAs Demi moved towards the innocuous black-painteddouble doors, Patricia’s words echoed in her mind.‘Honestly, Dem, it’s an experience that’s out of thisworld. It’s the closest you can get to heaven withoutactually having sex. What have you got to lose?’Nothing, Demi supposed, hesitating outside the doors.Nothing whatsoever. She could certainly do with someheaven in her life, particularly of the erotic variety. Butnow she was actually here, her courage was failing her.She hadn’t taken her clothes off in front of a man for avery long time – particularly not a strange man. Even if hedid look, as Patricia put it, like something out of theArabian Nights.Her fingers closed around the leaflet in her bag. Shedidn’t need to read it – she knew it off by heart.Treat yourself to an afternoon of pure pleasure. Stepbeyond the threshold of desire. Satisfaction guaranteed.Hardly original, but Patricia had told her the experiencehad exceeded her wildest expectations. And Patricia couldget pretty wild.What if I don’t like it, she thought, pressing thedoorbell in the same heartbeat?She could always change her mind. Stepping over thethreshold didn’t commit her to anything. Not thisthreshold anyway. She shivered with deliciousanticipation. Patricia had told her about the other thresholdwith a wicked gleam in her eyes.A man, who looked nothing like an Arabian knight, lether in, consulted his appointment book and gave her aslightly unnerving smile, as he slipped her credit cardthrough his machine.‘Go through, Miss Hargreaves. You are expected.’She found herself in a room exactly as Patricia haddescribed. Opulent – the walls were d****d with rich goldsilk and the room was scented with lilies, which were on asmall table close to the door. She’d always associatedlilies with funerals, but then, weren’t orgasms sometimesdescribed as ‘the small death’?A red carpet, which felt thick beneath her feet, ledtowards another door, which had a small plaque in itscentre. Demi bent to read it.Once you pass through this door, there is no turningback. Only those in search of the ultimate sensualexperience should step over the threshold.Feeling slightly reassured, because sensual didn’t soundas scary as sexual, Demi opened the door and steppedinside. This room was smaller and taken up mainly by achanging cubicle, similar to the ones in expensiveboutiques. The door clicked shut behind her and a man’svoice filled the room.‘Welcome, Miss Hargreaves. You will find a robe andundergarments in the drawer to your right. Please put themon and, when you are ready – step through the connectingdoors ahead of you.’The man’s voice was rich and deep with a hint of theexotic. Demi wondered if he was the Arabian knight.With trembling fingers she opened the drawer.Underwear was such a functional term and didn’t dojustice to the exquisite black lace bra and thong. Theywere both in her size, which she’d been asked for whenshe’d made her appointment, and were obviously brandnew – their labels still attached.A pair of scissors, presumably for removing the labels,lay alongside. Feeling suddenly shy, and knowing it wasfar too late for shyness, Demi took off her clothes andhung them on hangers, also provided. A full-length mirrorin the cubicle reflected her image back at her.She’d prepared for her visit by going to the gym threetimes a week for the last few months, and she’d had an allover-tanning session yesterday. She was pleased she’dmade the effort. The lace bra moulded over her breasts andleft little to the imagination. The thong left even less. Herblack hair tumbling over her shoulders made her lookwanton. Oh my God, was she really going to parade infront of a strange man dressed like this?Remembering the robe, which was black silk, sheslipped it on, tied the belt tightly around her slender waistand then, taking a final deep breath, stepped through theconnecting doors.She gasped.The previous rooms had been opulent, but this one putthem in the shade. It was seductively lit and smelt of roses,which were in crystal vases on low glass tables. Creamcarpet, so soft it felt like walking on velvet, covered thefloor. Heavy scarlet silk throws adorned the walls and, asshe gazed, she saw other colours within – threads of goldrunning through the fabric, which formed into patterns. Ittook a few moments to see they weren’t patterns, butpictures – couples making love, in bahis siteleri every conceivableposition, their faces serene and bodies beautiful.At first sight the room appeared empty, but as she stooddrinking in the beauty of her surroundings, a man detachedhimself from the shadows at the far side of the room.He wore scarlet robes that contrasted perfectly with hisshaven head and caramel skin. He did look Arabian, Demidecided with a shiver of excitement. He was very tall, andshe could feel the power exuding from him, even fromhere. He was the most amazing-looking man she’d everseen. And as these thoughts passed through her mind, hemoved towards her, each slow measured step bringing himcloser, until there were only inches between them and shecould hardly breathe.He smiled, revealing white teeth and she was remindedof a panther moving in for the kill. His black eyes wereunfathomable, but he must be aware of the effect he washaving on her. She half expected him to rip off her flimsyrobe, but all he did was to hold out his hand.‘Are you ready, Miss Hargreaves, for the ultimatesensual experience?’She nodded, unable to speak. His fingers closed aroundhers.Good God, she was practically having an orgasm on thespot.What would she do when he did – whatever he wasgoing to do?Suddenly panicking, because Patricia hadn’t told herwhat he actually did – just that she’d love it – she tried topull her fingers from his.‘Don’t be afraid,’ he turned, his eyes questioning. ‘Youhave to trust me, Demi.’ He lingered over her name, as ifit were something special. ‘Do you trust me?’‘I don’t know you.’ Her voice trembled.‘Then it must be an act of faith – this trust of yours. Itwill be worth it, I promise you.’They’d been walking while he spoke and were nowstanding at the far corner of the room. He turned heraround so she had her back to the wall. Then, to hersurprise he knelt in front of her, and undid the knot of herrobe with his teeth. Rising leisurely, he slipped it from hershoulders so it lay in a silken pool at her feet.His eyes were mesmerizing and never left her face. Shecouldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. When he liftedher left arm above her head and she felt the touch of silk ather wrist, she didn’t protest. He did the same to her rightarm and she realized he’d tied her wrists to silken thongsin the wall. Silken, but very strong, she discovered whenshe tested them and found them to be immovable.‘Silk is what the spider weaves to make its webs, it isthe strongest material on earth,’ he murmured in a voicethat was strangely elemental. Like the rumbling of avolcano, just before it pours molten lava across the land.Demi didn’t argue with him. She was trapped and shedidn’t care. There was a strange sort of freedom in beingthis helpless in front of a beautiful man. In knowing hecould do anything to her – anything he liked – and therewas nothing she could do to stop him.This thought barely had time to register when sherealized he was kneeling again. ‘I will need you to spreadapart your legs,’ he murmured, and she felt his touch onthe inside of her calf, moving downwards, feather light toher ankle.Wordless, she let him move her ankles into position,until she was tied, legs and arms wide apart, held fast bythe silken thongs. At least she wasn’t naked, she thought,her heart pumping lust and adrenaline around her body.Although she wouldn’t have much cared if she was –suddenly, she ached for him to see her – all of her. Shecould feel her nipples straining against the black lace and adelicious ache had started between her legs.He was standing again. For the first time he let his gazetravel down across her body. He looked at her erectnipples, a half smile on his face.‘I think perhaps – you are still a little overdressed,’ hemurmured, reaching forward.He was going to have trouble there, she thought, raisingher eyebrows. How could he remove her bra when herhands were tied? But she hadn’t noticed it was the kindwith clip-on straps, which took a matter of seconds torelease and remove from her slender shoulders. As ifaware of her thoughts, and with another smile, he brushedthe palms of his hands over her nipples, then reachedbehind her and unfastened the final clip so her breastswere exposed to his gaze.Demi thought she might die with pleasure, as he tracedthe outline of her nipples with his thumbs, saying with afaint trace of huskiness, ‘I see you are canlı bahis beginning to trustme, after all.’Once more, he stood back, this time his gaze loweringto the tiny thong that covered what was left of hermodesty.‘But you are still a little overdressed. Do you notthink?’Demi closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe she wasletting him do this. Wanted him to do this. Not that shehad a choice. He was right about the strength of her bonds.His hands were on her hips now, slipping beneath theknotted ribbons – oh my God, knotted ribbons. That’s allthat protected her from his gaze. And they didn’t stayknotted for long. He untied them and slowly, tenderly –removed the last trace of her clothing. A small moanescaped her lips as his fingers traced the outline of whathe’d uncovered, caressing her pubic bone, movingdownwards to her labia, and then spreading her stillfurther so she was fully exposed to his gaze.Even though she ground her hips away from him, in astrange mixture of terror and lust, she couldn’t get awayfrom his touch. And he wasn’t in any hurry. Slip slidinghis fingers over her and into her – with infinite gentleness,so she ached for it never to stop.But just as she was on the point of exploding, he didstop.‘We have the afternoon ahead of us,’ he murmured,standing once more and cupping her face with his hands,so she caught her own scent on his fingers. ‘I think wehave much to do – much to explore.’And then he left her – spread-eagled, naked andhelpless, while he strode away across the room.The waiting was agonizing. What was he going to do?He could do anything to her. It occurred to her that theremight be hidden cameras, her body fully on display fordirty old men all over London to lust over. The thoughtappalled her, but there was nothing she could do.He returned, a black velvet bag in his hand, which heset down beside her and unzipped. He removed whatlooked like a cat-o’-nine-tails – its cords made of silkenmaterial.‘No,’ she said, frightened for the first time since she’dstepped into the room. ‘I’m not into…’He interrupted her with a swift shake of his head. ‘Youdo not know what you are into – until you try it.’ And withthat he drew the whip lightly across her stomach. Shetensed, expecting it to hurt, but it didn’t. It was like beingflailed with silk – too soft to sting, but hard enough totitillate.He acknowledged her surprise with a slight nod, andthen the flailing began in earnest. He lashed each breast inturn, using the cat hard enough to caress and arouse, butnot to hurt, until her nipples were so hard, she thoughtthey might explode.Then he shifted his attention to her ankles, moving thewhip slowly up her legs, across her calves, and up stillhigher to her inner thighs, until she was squirming inecstasy. He spent a long time between her legs – he wasvery gentle here – checking her face from time to time, tomake sure he wasn’t hurting her. But he must have knownhe wasn’t hurting. Once more, just at the point of orgasm,he stopped what he was doing and she moaned indisappointment.‘It is bringing you lots of pleasure – is it not?’Demi knew she didn’t need to answer. That much musthave been obvious to him. He had a very good view ofexactly how much pleasure he was bringing her, fromwhere he knelt.He unzipped the bag, once more, she suspected to drawforth more implements of sweet torture, but all he did wasput away the cat-o’-nine-tails, before turning back to her.‘It is time,’ he said softly, ‘for the finale.’With these words he reached to untie her bonds andwhen she was free, he massaged the muscles in her armand legs, as though he knew about the ache that had grownin them from being tied apart so long.‘You come,’ he said, with a wicked grin, so she knew itwas a demand she accompany him, not an enquiry as toher level of satisfaction. And even though he was still cladin his robe, Demi didn’t bother to get dressed – it wouldhave seemed senseless now.They crossed the room, but not to the door throughwhich they’d entered. He pressed a button on the wall andthe whole panel slid silently backwards to reveal a roomdone out entirely in white marble. Steps led down to ashallow pool, from which steam rose gently.Demi glanced at him enquiringly and he smiled again,untied his robe and let it fall with a soft swish to the floor.He was naked below it – and he was magnificent, justas beautiful as she’d imagined. His chest and arms werelightly canlı bahis siteleri muscled and his caramel-coloured skin gleamedwith a slight sheen of sweat. She wondered if it wasbrought on by exertion or lust. Was he happy in his work?As her gaze dropped lower, she saw he was indeed happyin his work. His erection sprung proudly from dense blackhair. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. She longed to kneeland take it in her mouth. To lay, legs apart for him oncemore, to feel it filling her, stretching her – and it wouldcertainly do that – despite her overexcited state. Of thatthere was no doubt.He watched her face, his delight in her pleasure evident,and she sighed, a little wistfully. The one thing that boththe brochure and Patricia had said was that there wascategorically no penetration. Full sex was off the agenda.It was a pleasure house, not a brothel. What a pity.He reached for her hand and together they stepped intothe pool, the warmth of the water caressing their skin. Ithad been treated with something and was scented. Shebreathed in the steamy air, recognizing jasmine andsomething else in the mix she couldn’t identify.‘Sit down. Enjoy,’ he commanded.There were two marble seats beneath the water,moulded so that they divided her buttocks and her thighs.Once more she was forced to sit with her legs apart.He sat beside her, pressed a button at his side. The poolwas a giant Jacuzzi. Beneath the water, a hundred tiny jetsfizzed into action. She gasped, understanding the reasonfor the legs-apart seating, as a jet of water hit her clitoris.So he wasn’t about to personally finish the job he’d soexpertly started – she was half-disappointed. But she couldno more have moved away than if she had been still tied.As the water inched her nearer and nearer to orgasm shearched her back, giving herself up to it, lost in sensation,loving it, never wanting it to end.Her eyes were closed so at first she barely noticed thesoft touch on her face. But when she opened them she sawhe had shifted position, his expressive eyes watching her,his finger infinitely gentle as he traced the outline of herjaw.It was a touch of such tenderness, and his expressionwas so full of longing that in that brief moment of ecstasyshe would have given up the whole afternoon of pleasure,everything he’d made her feel – just for one kiss.But it seemed kissing too – was out of bounds. He heldher as she came, sliding his fingers inside her at themoment of orgasm, feeling her clenching and unclenching,riding the waves with her.If she’d been cynical she’d have thought it was qualitycontrol – a check to make sure she had indeed experiencedthe ultimate in sexual satisfaction. But there wassomething in his eyes that told her it wasn’t qualitycontrol. He was revelling in her pleasure, glorying in herrelease.‘So what did you think? What was it like? Did it exceedyour wildest expectations?’ Patricia’s excited voice trilledin her ear. The phone had been ringing when she’dunlocked her front door.‘It was amazing,’ Demi breathed. ‘He was amazing.Thank you so much for recommending him.’‘No probs. Did he do the tying up thing? – my God, Ithought I would die when he took off my knickers with histeeth.’‘He did indeed.’‘And how about the whipping thing with that silkcontraption?’‘That too.’‘And the Jacuzzi? Those water jets are something else,aren’t they?’‘Mmm,’ Demi purred at the memory. She would neverforget the water jets, or what had happened afterwards.Although she had no intention of telling Patricia about thatbit, or anyone else come to that. It would be their secret –hers and his.But she knew now he didn’t have to rely on elaborategames to arouse or satisfy. He was the perfect lover. Alover with the body of a God and the mind of the Devil –that is – if you considered sex to be a sin, which shedidn’t: most certainly not. He had the kiss of an angel, too.She’d been right about that.Placing her hand over the mouthpiece, she turnedtowards him.‘More coffee? More of anything?’ He winked. He wasdressed in jeans and tee-shirt, but looking far fromordinary, he was making coffee in her kitchen.Demi said one last heartfelt thank-you to Patricia andput the phone down.It was time for round two. But this time she would be incharge. An evening of pure pleasure with an Arabianknight in the dungeon of her bedroom, where the silkenbonds, swiftly transferred to the bedposts, awaited them.Tonight the cat-o’-nine-tails would have a new master –or rather a new mistress. Demi, the dominatrix – she204licked her lips – or if she used the full version of her name– Demetria the dominatrix.It had a certain ring to it…

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