Destined to Play, p.6Indigo Bloome
‘Of course we are. Why on earth would I waste you looking so exquisite and keep you confined to a hotel room? That would be absurd.’
I feel my breath shortening again. Keep calm, breathe, I say to myself, but I hear my words tumble out regardless.
‘How many times are you going to send me into overdrive tonight, Jeremy? I can’t take it, it’s too much. I try to get my mind around one thing you are asking of me, leading me into, and wham, then comes the rush of another and another.’
I draw breath momentarily before continuing on my verbal rampage. ‘I don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling or even what I should say to you. This situation is too strange for me, unreal, surreal.’
I hear myself talking erratically, quickly, searching for words to account for the emotion that is threatening to totally overwhelm me.
‘I have no filters, Jeremy. You’ve taken them away, or maybe I’ve allowed them to be taken. I don’t know. Either way, it can’t be good. I’ve trained myself for too many years to give considered, thoughtful responses and now listen to me. I don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling or doing. Why are you putting me through this?’
Jeremy doesn’t answer, but I sense his closeness and know intuitively that he is staring at me intently. I take a moment to catch my breath and attempt to regain some form of composure. I feel like a child lost in the wilderness, not knowing who to trust or where to turn.
He places his arm around the small of my back, while holding my wrist and firmly steers me toward what I assume is the door of the penthouse. I hear the door open.
‘Oh no, please, Jeremy, let’s stay here. What’s the time, anyway? Isn’t it too late for dinner? I’m not really hungry, we’ve had hors d’oeuvres. Really, it would be such a waste …’
I ramble on, wedging my heels deep into the carpet, as I attempt to throw excuses in his unrelenting path.
‘We can’t possibly be seen in public, don’t you understand?’ I’m scrambling for words as he edges me closer to the door. ‘How could you even think about taking me out like this? I’m blindfolded for goodness’ sake and I have no knickers on!’
My heels wave the white flag as they surrender their grip on the floor and I catapult into his arms, and presumably out the door. I try to steady myself as best I can and he holds me firmly in his arms.
‘Where are we going anyway?’ I ask him, desperate for some form of verbal response. His silence is exasperating. He suddenly pushes me firmly against the wall, his face close to mine, his body pressing powerfully against the silkiness of my dress.
‘I know you have questions, Alexa, you always do. As I have told you, this weekend is not about your questions. I have been counting how many you have asked so far and I strongly advise that you stop, as there will be consequences for each one. Now behave yourself!’ he adds sternly. ‘I am taking you to dinner; you look beautiful and you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Now, one more thing … as we are on my time this weekend, I never want you to ask the time again. Do you understand me?’ He is so close I am dizzy with his questions and demands. I am dumbfounded at the sharpness of his words as his heady presence and aroma invade every facet of my space.
‘Have-I-made-myself-clear?’ He emphasises each word purposefully. I am at a loss as to this change of mood, the darkened edge to his voice, so much so that I am astonishingly not willing to risk an offhand or flippant comment in response. It is too strange, the tension palpable.
So I defiantly remain silent, considering this to be the safest strategy, even though his erection continues to swell intensely against my belly. He grabs my shoulders and spins me around, pushing my breasts deliberately against the wall and swiftly slaps my arse so hard I am left with a stinging sensation that I cannot remotely fathom. This is the last thing I expect from him. I’m horrified. He just spanked me! Blindfolded, in the corridor of a hotel. He spins me back around just as rapidly, seemingly to inspect the look of utter shock on my face as a result of his handiwork.
‘I asked you a question, Alexandra. Are we clear?’ he says in his stern, metallic voice. All I can utter is ‘Perfectly!’ my knickerless arse sizzling against the wall. This is something new; he has done a lot of things to me over the years but never anything like that.
‘Good. Let’s go.’ He takes hold of my elbow and steers me firmly down the corridor, my heels clattering against the hardened floor to keep pace with him. The sensation of being spanked is not something I am familiar with. I can’t remember the last time it was done to me, even in childhood. Robert had certainly never done anything like that. He was always serious in the bedroom — perfunctory, never playful. I realise then and there that Jeremy is the opposite of Robert — playful, unexpected and oh, how I’ve missed this unpredictability in my life. Even now, humiliated in a hotel corridor, though I feel out of control, at the same time adrenalin is pumping through me in a way I haven’t felt in years. I am truly alive.
I hear a ‘ding’ sound and the lift doors open as he guides me in. I take a deep breath and pray. Please don’t let us bump into anyone I know. Please, please, please! The doors close and Jeremy doesn’t skip a beat before his hands are stroking my thighs, coercing the softness between my legs to moisten further and become even more accommodating, which started the second his swift hand slapped my butt. An unexpected insight … how can I be in shock yet so highly aroused and horny at the same time? Jeremy knows each and every one of my sensitive spots as well as any doctor knows the anatomy of the human body, and he isn’t missing a single opportunity to use my body as his personal radar, testing and paying attention to the response, to great advantage.
It is such a weird sensation not being able to anticipate arousal; obviously visual stimulation plays a major role in this. Stranger still is having no true sense of what is coming next. Being so frustrated you could scream, then wham, one light, smooth stroke and your body roars into gear proactively endorsing the sting and the caress and leaving you begging for more.
How does that work? The problem is, I’m not sure whether my body is betraying me deliberately or whether it knows my mind far more effectively than I could possibly imagine.
‘Please stop it, Jeremy. It is hard enough to focus on what’s going on, let alone having your hands distracting me at every opportunity.’
‘The whole idea of this weekend is that you don’t focus on anything, Alex.’
‘Well, it is just not possible,’ I say, exasperated.
The lift door opens and we step out as a rush of air blows my hair back. Jeremy is greeted.
I feel the blood rushing to my face and am sure it is flushed.
‘Dr J, how wonderful you could join us this evening, it’s been too long.’
My legs quiver beneath me as Jeremy holds me securely upright.
‘Lovely to see you again, Leo.’
‘Let me show you to your table.’ I am chaperoned to a lounge seat where Jeremy settles me into position. I quickly cross my legs, given my lack of underwear and inwardly curse Jeremy for making me feel as uncomfortable as I ever have in my entire life.
Who is Leo anyway and why can I hear the faint hum of voices around me? I can feel my forehead developing minute droplets of perspiration as my anxiety rises at the unknown yet again. Why am I so on edge anyway? Relax, enjoy, I tell myself. Impossible, comes the response.
‘What will sir be drinking tonight?’
‘We will have two martinis, extra dry, stirred not shaken, with a twist.’
Jeremy’s response instantly surprises me. He has just ordered my perfect martini, even though I haven’t touched a martini in the past ten years. Unbelievable.
I try to keep myself calm enough to at least decipher my surroundings and congratulate myself on maintaining a few moments of self-control. I notice the carpet is thick and lush and the voices are very low; some nondescript music is meandering around the room. As the fact that we are not alone comes to mind once again, my apprehension gains momentum until Jeremy’s voice
‘I’m assuming you are happy to have a martini? That is the way you always liked them in Europe.’
‘A martini is the least of my problems.’ I try to calm my voice as much as possible. ‘How could you have brought me here with other people around? What if someone recognises us? I can’t believe you are compromising me like this. You are putting both of us at enormous personal and professional risk. How could you? It is totally unacceptable.’ My tension builds like a tsunami through my bloodstream. My heart pumps faster than it can reasonably handle, perspiration not cooling my body temperature as effectively as it should be. He has gone too far, this is not right. My hands are twisting and palms sliding with sweat on my lap. My breath short and shallow, I easily diagnose my state as an imminent anxiety attack. Jeremy cups my hands together.
‘Calm down, everything is fine. You are overreacting.’
Overreacting? My internal voice is incredulous. ‘Nothing is fine!’ I exclaim, control almost lost. I rein it in as best I can as I have no idea who is in the room, who these people are.
Does it matter? Yes, it does, damn it. I answer myself. And no doubt Jeremy knows this, knows I will attempt to contain my emotions in public.
‘How could you put me in this situation, Jeremy? How dare you? Who are these people?’
I feel vulnerable, alone and completely out of control. My body trembles as it experiences the invading cocktail of emotions. This is not nearly as easy as I thought it would be, and I’m a little disappointed in myself for not handling it more professionally. But what is professional about being at dinner with a frigging blindfold on? Goodness knows what they are thinking, seeing a blindfolded woman arguing with one of the country’s, make that the world’s most renowned medical researchers. Or maybe this just happens to be ‘Blindfold Friday’ at the InterContinential — as if!
Suddenly, a moment of complete clarity and confidence sweeps through me. I realise I am in control. I still have legs that can walk, hands that can at least remove the suffocating blindfold that may enable some form of blurred, dark vision, and a voice to say ‘No!’ — the one thing I have never, ever been able to say to Jeremy. If luck is on my side, I may even be able to engage some innocent bystander to help me escape from this outrageous situation. As I let these thoughts rapidly flow through my body, I suddenly feel empowered to act.
‘I can’t do this, Jeremy. I know you were hoping that I could, and I have tried, but I can’t.
I’m sorry I promised you, but it was a stupid mistake. This situation is proving impossible for me to manage.’ At these words, I stand up and raise my hands to remove my blindfold and be free of the embarrassment and submission it causes me. Just as my fingertips touch the silky layer, Jeremy launches himself over my body sending me flying back into the lounge seat. He grabs my hands and roughly pins them behind my back. With his legs now straddling mine, I am anchored to the seat and breathless at the suddenness of his plunge. The emotion between us is sizzling hot. He secures his grip around my wrists and ensures I literally can’t move from under his physical presence.
‘You will do this, you promised me, you consented and you haven’t even given yourself time to adapt. You don’t need to manage or control anything. That’s your problem and until you stop trying you will be feeling like you do now. Let me be very clear — I will go to any extreme to ensure you keep your promise. I want you like this, Alex, and I won’t let anything stand in my way, including your insecurities.’ His voice is low, demanding, unrelenting. I can feel his muscles surrounding my legs, my thighs; I can feel his excitement swelling above me. My god!
Now I can feel my own in response. How does he do this? He wants me, and how long has it been since I’ve heard that? Since forever, it seems. And I want him, but like this? And what about my insecurities?
Dumbfounded, I squirm ineffectively beneath him.
‘You will have your chance to remove the blindfold when we have been together forty-eight hours. You are not touching it, nor are you going anywhere.’ There is an irrevocable determination in his voice that is unyielding and compellingly X-rated. God, what happened to the empowerment I felt only moments ago? No eyes to see, no legs to walk, no hands to move.
He really is taking every bit of control away from me and his physical response clearly tells me he loves it. And apparently so do I.
‘Well, you are certainly using over-the-top measures to ensure that I don’t.’ I acknowledge for his benefit that I can barely move. Even as I question why I am secretly thrilled that he is going to such extremes, my arousal skyrockets with each passing second.
‘Trust me, Alex, the fun is yet to begin and I know you will love it if you just give yourself the opportunity to embrace it.’
Is he my therapist now? I decide that struggling is futile, as it just seems to strengthen his resolve further both figuratively and physically; he tightens his hold on both my wrists and thighs. My brainstorming mind clicks into gear weighing up potential options. As if sensing my thoughts he states calmly, ‘Don’t fight me on this, AB, you will lose.’
Just as I’m about to speak Jeremy’s mouth comes hard against mine with his tongue forcing its way through my lips, probing my tongue, invading my throat, harder and faster as I am pinned beneath him. He smothers my face, leaving me literally gasping for air. His power is a carnal force that my body has no urge to reject.
‘You are mine for the weekend. Stop fighting so hard, you are wasting precious energy that could be put to much more effective use.’ His voice is laden with suggestive undertones. ‘God, you look absolutely irresistible. Shame we have company or I swear I would take you right here, making the most of the access under your dress.’
I am left melting beneath him; the hot, pulsing ache in my groin ensuring I am breathless and wanton.
‘So beautiful, but she does struggle so …’ he reflects, and for a long moment his palms cup my chin and cheeks as he straddles my body. I feel his erection harden against my thigh. He releases a long sigh as I anxiously await his next move.
‘You leave me no choice. Leo, please cuff her.’
‘Certainly, sir, right away.’
Jeremy pulls my shoulders toward his body and slides his hands down my arms to my elbows ensuring they don’t bend as they are anchored behind me. Leo, whoever he is, quickly straps something that feels like padded handcuffs around my wrists and clasps them together in record time.
I am left gasping, speechless, bound and blind as Jeremy secures the blindfold back into position. What on earth is going on here? This isn’t just some university prank that we can laugh about together. Jeremy said he would go to virtually any length to make this happen. Why? My thoughts are pulsating in my brain in tandem with my heart, trying to decipher what has just happened to me. I can feel the intensity of the energy in the room as if it is pumping through the air. What is driving him to be so dominating? What exactly am I missing?
‘I’d forgotten just how very stubborn you are. It’s quite astonishing.’ The old Jeremy is back, having a normal conversation with me. Unbelievable.
‘Stubborn,’ I shriek, emotion still overwhelming my muscles, my voice. ‘How can you …’
‘Please, keep your voice down. I won’t be able to feed you with a gag in your mouth,’ he states calmly.
‘You wouldn’t dare —’
He cuts me off immediately. ‘I’ve come this far, my love. You know I would. The sooner you surrender yourself to me, the more freedom you will experience,’ he whispers as if we are co-conspirators. What does he mean by that?
I shuffle around on the seat while trying to fully absorb the reality of my wrists being bound behind me. Although we have had an exploratory sexual past, Jeremy has never taken things this far before. There has never been this urgency, this underlying non-negotiable tone. I recognise now that perhaps I am in well and truly over my head. I just don’t understand what is driving this situation, and why …
‘Now, let’s not waste these martinis.’
Jeremy holds my chin upwards and carefully slides the cold liquid into my mouth. I don’t speak to him; I honestly don’t know what to say. I can barely move. I am petrified of going against his wishes after what has just happened, which is no doubt exactly what he intended, so I sit in silence, like a mannequin. It’s as if every cell in my body is electrified, awaiting his next move, on high alert. It’s strangely invigorating. I can feel his stare attempting to penetrate my thoughts. I try to calm my breath, my emotions, my thoughts … I fail. More silky liquid finds my tongue and slides down my throat. I don’t encourage it. I don’t prevent it. I’m frozen with some sort of fear of the unknown that I can’t define; it’s exciting and tantalising even though I feel utterly vulnerable with only Jeremy to rely on. What choice do I have, but to temporarily accept this bizarre sequence of events without protest or complaint? However, in accepting this fate I am also forced to concede that I have never felt more special or cherished by anyone in my life.
Presumably we have finished our martinis because I am guided to a standing position.
Jeremy slips his arm around my waist through my bound arms. We walk away without words.
Suddenly, my feet are swept out from beneath me and Jeremy carries me easily up some stairs. It makes me feel very small, even more fragile and dependent, when he can scoop my body up so effortlessly. I have no physical defence against him and my emotional ones are being systematically infiltrated. I have never relied on someone so completely. I am usually so self-sufficient and this gesture of complete possession makes me quite literally go weak at the knees.
Destined to Play by Indigo Bloome / History & Fiction have rating 3 out of 5 / Based on18 votes