Entranced (The Alpha Stranger) Book 3 (3 page)

BOOK: Entranced (The Alpha Stranger) Book 3
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In a mansion on the hill

I am kept naked for his thrill

a kept girl, that’s who I am

at the beckoning pleasure for my alpha man

 

Wow. This may be the most disturbing song ever written. The words keep coming and coming. And for the first time, I am thinking of adding more than just a piano and my voice for the song. I can hear guitars, bass and drums. “Kept Girl” just feels like it could be a really creepy and fun pop song. Oh, I wish I could find a room full of musical equipment right now. Well, I’ll just have to play the instruments in my head. All I can say is that every day brings new inspiration thanks to my anonymous lover.

 

***

 

The afternoon comes and goes as I revise and rewrite my latest pop song. As I continue to discover new lyrics, I walk from room to room, leaving a breadcrumb trail of discarded drafts. By the time I reach the master bedroom, I believe I have the song that I want. I look at the lyrics and sing them to myself. As I lie in bed, I hear my lover say, “What the hell?!” I sit up. He opens the door with about ten crumbled pieces of paper in his hands. Oh fuck! In my obsession to find the right song, I failed to find a waste paper basket as I drop the early revisions of my song all over my anonymous lover’s house.

 

“So I leave you in my home only to find you making a mess.”

 

“I’m so sorry. I am writing a song and I guess I just got caught up in it.”

 

“I don’t like coming home to a mess.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Get on your knees.”

 

I climb off of the bed and obey my anonymous lover. He begins to strip off his clothes. It’s pretty obvious that he is more than excited to see me on my knees. When he strips off his underwear, I am treated to a sight of that hard, thick cock of my strict master. He walks up to me and grabs the top of my head.

 

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” my anonymous lover orders. I obey. I feel my lover’s manhood slowly slide across my lips. He enters my mouth as he grabs me by the ears. Even though I have given my lover oral pleasure before, I still can’t get over his “size.” I’ve never had a man who was this “well-endowed.” And since everything on my body is petite, my anonymous lover feels even bigger when he is inside of me.

 

My mouth is stuffed until I gag. “Your tongue feels so good,” my lover says as he begins to slowly pump my face. I grab that man’s strong ass and try my best to breathe while my throat gets stuffed. After a few pumps, I begin to get into it. I whip my mouth from side to side. I deep-throat that dick until my anonymous lover pulls on my hair. Before I know it, the tables have been turned. My lover leans back against the bed and begins to moan like he’s about to lose his virginity. I start to suck him off with a vengeance.

 

My anonymous lover starts slamming his hands against the mattress. It looks like I’m doing my job well. My lover grabs me and pulls me onto the bed. He takes me across his lap and spanks my ass. Oh hell yes, that feels so nice. “I can’t get enough of your ass,” my lover says as he forces me onto my hands and knees. My lover gets begin me. I feel my ass cheeks get spread apart. What is he going to do to me now? Oh wow. I feel a tongue. This man is giving me a rim job right on his bed.

 

I’ve always been scared of guys who tried to play around with my backside. They always seem to be more clumsy than graceful. My anonymous lover knows his way around my ass. He licks my backside like a pro. My face turns red. I grab onto the headboard and enjoy the ride. As my lover licks me faster and faster, I feel him claw into my ass cheeks. Call me crazy but I think I am close to getting an orgasm from this!

 

My lover turns me over onto my back. He takes his hard, thick cock and slowly enters me. I wrap my legs around his hips and feel my lover’s chest as he goes to work on my pussy. In no time, my lover begins to pump me at full speed. He reaches over and chokes me out as I hang on for my dear life. I start to moan. My anonymous lover slaps me. I try to bite his fingers. He slaps me again. My aggression is really starting to blossom in this relationship. He slaps me again. I slap him back.

 

“Oh yeah, you crazy bitch. You like it rough?” my anonymous lover says as he places his hands around me neck.

 

“Hell yeah,” I squeak out as I begin to pinch and twist his nipples. We are really starting to hurt each other. And for the first time, I am convinced that my lover is losing control. He chokes me so hard that my eyes feel like they are going to bulge right out of my head. I would scream for him to stop if his dick didn’t feel so good inside of me. My only defense is to torture his nipples with my eager pinching, scratching and pulling.

 

“I’m gonna cum!” my lover screams. I pull on his hair. We both reach an orgasm that nearly breaks the bed in two. We fall off of the bed and land on the ground. As my lover tumbles to the floor, he releases me from that deathly chokehold. I gasp for air as my lover holds onto his cock. We are both experiencing our own unique fits of agony and ecstasy. After a minute or so of recovery time, we relax into each other’s arms.

“I can’t watch you when I am at the office. You were making my dick hard all day with that tight little naked body of yours.”

 

“I’m glad I could get your off even when we are not together,” I tell my lover.

 

We go off into the shower. My lover spends most of the time running his hands all over my body. I can tell he is starting to get used to some intimacy. He doesn’t seem as anxious as he did last night. Perhaps he will be a little more willing to open up about his life. I’m not going to push it. After all, the relationship is totally fun and completely fulfilling in its current and unusual state.

 

As we lie there on the ground, my anonymous lover rolls over and feels one of those crumpled pieces of paper that he carried into the room earlier. He grabs the ball of paper and tosses it up into the air. Then he begins to open it. I panic. “Oh wait, you should see the final draft of my song!” I exclaim as I get up to find that piece of paper. I check the nightstand and find my final copy of the newly written song. Then I lie back down next to my lover and show him the lyrics to the song.

 


Kept Lover,
” he reads out loud. I nervously watch as my anonymous lover quietly reads the lyrics to the song. I look at his eyes. He sees entranced by the words on the page. He silently mouths the words of the song to himself. When he is done reading, he puts the piece of paper to the side and begins to open the crumpled balls of paper.

 

“Don’t read those, they are imperfect.”

 

“Nothing you write is imperfect,” he tells me. I watch as my anonymous lover unwraps the other pieces of paper. He seems to get a kick as looking at my work in progress. “I’ve never had anyone write songs about me,” my lover says.

 

“You inspire me,” I tell him.

 

My lover kisses me on the lips. It’s a different kind of kiss. It’s passionate and affectionate. I grab my lover by his strong arms and kiss him back. Oh wow. I have never felt a connection like this. We may have fucked half a dozen times already. Right now, however, we have never been closer to each other.

 

***

 

I giggle as my anonymous lover puts the blindfold around my eyes. He walks me out of the house and places me inside his Ferrari. It’s about 9:15 p.m. While LA traffic is notoriously unpredictable, my anonymous lover assures me that we will make it from Malibu to Santa Monica by 10:00. And judging by the way my lover speeds down the hills of Malibu, he is not lying. I grab onto whatever part of the $400,000 Ferrari interior will accept my nervous little hands. We must be doing at least 100 MPH. The sound of the massive engine is deafening.

 

I sit back and try my best not to be a scared little girl while my anonymous lover drives like a border-bound fugitive. As we make our way to Santa Monica, my lover can’t help but place one of his hands on my bare thighs. Let’s just say wearing a mini-skirt has proven to be a great wardrobe choice for the evening. Well, it wasn’t really much of a choice. On his way home from work, my anonymous lover bought some clothes for me. And let’s just say modesty wasn’t one of his considerations during the shopping spree.

 

We get down to Santa Monica with more than enough time to casually stroll over to the Arrow Bar. When my anonymous lover removes the blindfold from my eyes, it takes me a moment to focus on my surroundings. We are in the parking area behind the bar. I stagger out of the Ferrari and stretch my legs. Now, I love $400,000 exotic sports cars but they don’t offer much leg room and they are loud as a zoo full of monkeys. My guess is that the real pleasure comes from driving one of those vehicles.

 

As we walk to the bar, my lover and I hold hands. It’s kinda unusual. We didn’t offer each other’s hands. We just started walking hand in hand. It’s like we’re a real couple. I’m almost beside myself with how this relationship is turning into something deeper than I have ever expected. We approach the bar and find a line outside of the door.

 

“What’s going on?” I wonder out loud.

 

“It looks like they have double the amount of people as usual.”

 

We walk up to the door and see a hulking bouncer desperately trying to gain control of the line. 


“We can only bring in about a dozen more people. It’s a fire code thing. Don’t blame me,” the bouncer says.

 

“Carrie!” I hear a voice yell from the line. I jump and look over to see an excited young woman calling out my name.

 

“I think all these people are here to see you,” my lover says to me.

 

More and more people begin to call out my name. Now this is so surreal that I can’t even process what is going on. The bouncer looks down at me. Then he speaks into his earpiece and says, “She’s here.”

 

The bouncer motions for me to come to the door. We walk towards the entrance. A few seconds later, Jonathan comes out and grabs me. “Every large record label in the U.S. is here to see you perform tonight!” my producer says excitedly.

 

My producer begins to walk me into the bar. Just before I get inside, I look back and see my anonymous lover whom I have totally left behind. I break away from my producer and grab the love of my life. We walk in together. Jonathan pulls the two of us to the corner of the bar and explains what exactly is going on. “We have 15 labels occupying all the tables at the front of the piano. After your performance tonight, they will send offers to my office. You can then decide whom you would like to sign with.”

 

This is all so overwhelming that I don’t even know what to ask. I look over at my lover. He smiles and puts his hands on my shoulder, “If I were you, I’d take the best deal and tell them to double it. They’ll give it to you.”

 

I look over to my producer who shrugs his shoulders and says, “This is a rare event. You are an artist who is in complete control of the situation.”

 

My lover kisses me on the lips and tell me, “You are going to be brilliant.” With that kiss, my body is completely energized and ready to go.

 

Jonathan walks onto the stage and speaks into the microphone mounted on the piano. “Ladies and Gentlemen. Carrie is in the house!”

 

The entire bar erupts into cheers that shake the walls. I am now freaking out. All of my confidence is gone. My body quivers as I walk onto the stage. I feel like a fifth grader at a class recital. I walk over to the piano and sit down on the stool. Oh fuck, I can’t breathe. I think I am having a panic attack. I don’t look at the audience. I just sit there and stare into the microphone. The crowd dies down. I’m too scared to turn my head towards the audience. Thirty seconds go by. A full minute passes. The crowd begins to mumble to themselves. I would get up and leave the stage if my legs did not feel so stiff.

 

I close my eyes. I see my lover. I see him naked, lying on the ground reading the lyrics to that song I wrote earlier today. I see him looking over my crumpled drafts of the song as he tells me, “Nothing you write is imperfect.” I open my eyes. I casually look into the crowd. I lock eyes on my man and I begin to play, “
Lover with No Name.
” In mere seconds, I go from sheer panic to complete relaxation. My fingers dance across the piano keys with little to no effort. My voice is calm and strong. As I go into my piano solo, I am able to completely relax and work the crowd. When the song ends, everyone is clapping and cheering. I launch right into my next song. The room is getting hot. Sweat begins to mat down my hair and run down my neck. I really feel like I’m fucking. But this time, I am fucking five hundred people at one time. I’m getting them all off with these songs. By the end of my fourth song, I ask the bar for an ice cold glass of Heineken.

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