The Dollhouse (16 page)

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Authors: Stacia Stone

BOOK: The Dollhouse
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My eyes closed because I couldn't stand to look at his face, to see the predator's gaze that fixed unblinking on my exposed center. The pleasure built quickly, sparkling down every nerve-ending. I was so close. My hips rose unbidden with the movements of my fingers and I was only another moment from falling over the edge into the oblivion of orgasm.

"Stop," he ordered, voice sharp.

"Please," I begged as my hands fell away. I had to grip the seat arms to keep from screaming in frustration. It
hurt
to come so close and then be pulled away from the edge.

"Come here."

I moved to stand but his harsh voice stopped me cold.

"On your knees."

So I crawled to him, desperate and humiliated. I would have sank to the floor and licked his toes if it meant putting an end to this torment.

I stopped just short of touching him and kneeled between his open knees. He watched me silently, his face as emotionless as granite. It wasn't until my eyes lowered that I realized how close my face was to the erection that strained against the fabric of his pants.

"You know what I want," he murmured.

And I did. My shaking hands rose to the fly of his pants as I sat back on my heels. It took me several tries to undo the button at the top and he made no move to help me. I unzipped him slowly, careful of the hard length of him that pressed up against the fabric. I didn't want to guess what the punishment would be for catching him in his zipper but I shuddered at the thought.

As soon as the zipper was completely undone, his penis sprang free and came to rest against his belly. I wondered if it had been hurting him to have it so confined.

I risked a glance up at his face and found that he was staring at me, his gaze mesmerizing as it urged me to continue. My hand moved to the base of him and my mouth closed over the tip, moving inexpertly.

He groaned and his fingers buried themselves in my hair, urging me forward. I was by no means an expert on fellatio but his response emboldened me. My mouth moved lower as I tried to take in more of him.

Julian's fingers pressed harder into my scalp, forcing me to move faster. His erection swelled bigger against my throat and I nearly gagged. Then he was in control of my movements, pumping into my mouth in the same way he would into the place lower down that ached for his attention.

As I fought off my gag reflex, I realized that he didn't care about my comfort — or my desires. In this moment, I was merely a vessel to service his needs. I didn't exist except to please him.

The thought thrilled me.

Julian made a low guttural sound in his throat and his hands tightened in my hair, pulling hard at the strands. The throb of his flesh against my tongue was my only warning. He held me there as a thick, hot liquid spurted against the back of my throat. I had no choice but to swallow it all.

"Lovely," he said, stroking the back of his hand down my cheek. "I love the way your face looks stuffed with my cock."

I didn't know how to respond to that so I didn't say anything. When I licked my lips, I could taste the salty musk of him on my tongue. I was still acutely aware of the unslaked desire that burned at my core.
When would he let me come?

"I'm very pleased with you." He leaned over me and his lips brushed my forehead. "But it occurs to me that it's been too long since I spanked that pretty little ass of yours."

I closed my eyes against the sudden wave of anguish that washed over me. I couldn't bear anymore.

He tipped my chin so that I was forced to meet his gaze. "But you feel like you've endured quite enough, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," I said miserably, knowing that I had to answer him.

"I'm feeling generous, so I'll make you a deal." The look in his eyes was frankly predatory. "You can go to sleep now and be done, I won't ask anything more of you for the rest of the night. Or, you let me spank your bottom until it burns and then I'll let you come. Which will it be?"

I quivered under his hand. "Don't make me choose."

"You have to."

No more!
the voice in my mind screamed. He was offering to let it be over and done, at least for the night. I desperately wanted to take him up on it. But the aching desire inside of me refused to be ignored.

"The spanking," I said on a sobbing breath. "Please spank me, sir."

"That's my girl."

Julian moved forward in the seat and pulled my unresisting body up into his lap. He flipped up my skirt and his hand stroked down my bare bottom.

"Spread your legs," he murmured and I moved awkwardly to comply. "Are you ready?"

I had barely nodded when the first blow came down, stinging enough to make me jump. And then it was followed by another. I made small sounds of pain with each strike, but he didn’t relent. The blows were savage as he moved over the entire surface of my backside, leaving no part of my exposed bottom untouched.

My face pressed into the arm of the plane seat and I moaned against the soft leather. The pain wasn't nearly as bad as the indignity of it and the realization that he could only do this because I had allowed it.

"Tell me how much you need to be punished," Julian said, just before I felt another ringing slap on my bare skin. "Tell me what a naughty little slut you are."

"I'm a n-naughty slut." I choked on the word, but still felt a blooming wetness between my thighs in response to his words.

My reward for obeying him was another hard slap to the back of my thigh. I cried out but the sound was muffled by the plushy leather underneath my face.

I ground down onto him, unable to stop the movement as pleasure and pain spiraled together inside of me. The blows ceased and in the next moment he reversed our positions, slamming me back against the chair as he knelt on the floor between my spread legs.

"Are you ready for your reward?"

"Yes, please," I begged and my voice cracked on the word.

"Well, let's see how much of a reward you can bear." His mouth lowered between my thighs, blowing softly on the heated and oversensitive skin. His nose pressed into the tight curls as he made a low humming sound in his throat. "I'm going to lick that dripping little cunt until you come all over my face. Would you like that?"

"Y-yes, sir,” I gasped.

I felt him smile against my skin. "Tell me when you've had enough
reward
."

16

I
woke
up alone and in an unfamiliar bed. Sunlight streamed into the room from a large picture window. Snow-capped mountains dominated the horizon in front of the sun that was just beginning to rise.

Vague memories surfaced of coming here — landing in the Denver airport and being bundled still half-asleep into a car, then driving for miles to finally arrive here.

The silk sheets slipped across my skin as I stretched, my body sore in places that I didn't even realize existed. It took a bleary moment for me to realize that I was alone in the bed.

I was also naked under the sheets. Had Julian undressed me before putting me to bed? I definitely wouldn't put it past him to decide that I didn't need underwear to sleep.

I looked up and saw my own reflection in a large mirror that hung on the ceiling directly over the bed.

"Classy," I murmured.

"It does take a very particular taste, don't you think."

"Jesus," I said on a harsh gasp, sitting up in bed. An older woman stood in the open doorway of the room, a bundle of towels in her arms. Her dark hair was caught up in a neat knot at her neck and her face was lined, but not unattractive. "You almost scared the pee out of me."

"It's a good thing that I do the laundry then." She strolled into the room like seeing a naked girl in the bed was completely expected and not at all out of the ordinary. "My name is Naomi, I'm the housekeeper."

"It's nice to meet you Naomi. My name is Dalea, I’m—“ I stopped and clutched the sheets harder to my chest, unsure how to finish that sentence. I obviously wasn't Julian's girlfriend or even really his friend. Did it still count as being a house guest when you were practically being held against your will? "I'm with Mr. Berkmore-Hathaway."

"No need to explain anything to me, honey." Her voice was knowing but the look she cast me was sympathetic and almost motherly. "You wouldn't believe some of the things that I've seen in this house."

"How long have you worked for him?" I asked, curiosity temporarily overcoming my embarrassment.

"I've been with the family for years, since the little master was a child. I was the one who'd go running to the nursery when he cried at night."

"So you probably know him pretty well."

"Better than anyone, specially since his Daddy passed."

I leaned forward. "Julian's father is dead?"

"Look at me running my mouth." Her gaze suddenly shuttered, making it clear she wouldn’t make any more disclosures. "Let me start you a bath and then I'll bring you a breakfast tray for when you're done."

"That sounds great."

She opened a door next to the dresser that must have led to the bathroom and disappeared through it. After a moment, I heard the sound of running water.

"Hope you like it hot," she called.

I looked around the room but there was no sign of the shirt and blouse that I had worn on the plane. "Do you have something I can wear?"

Naomi came back into the room, carrying with her the heat from the tub and the sweet scent of lavender oil that she must have added to the water. "What was that honey?"

My foot kicked out of the sheet and I could feel myself blush. "I don't have anything to wear."

She chuckled as if at some private joke. "I'm sure we can scrounge up something for you."

"A dress or a skirt, please," I said, remembering Julian's very clear instructions.

"Of course," she replied pertly, giving me a significant look. "Whatever you need."

"Thank you."

She motioned me up with a hurrying gesture. "C'mon girl, before the bathwater gets cold. When I get back I'll have some clothes for you and a breakfast tray, Mr. Julian wanted me to make sure you got something to eat as soon as you woke up."

I wrapped the sheet around myself and tried to climb out of the bed without falling on my face. "Do you know where he is? Is he here?"

"Just said that he'll be back tonight" She moved to the bed as soon as I stood and fluffed the pillows. "Mr. Julian isn't one to share the details of his business."

I wondered what Naomi thought about me being here. Or if she'd seen so much that the thought of a bought and paid for sex slave wasn't enough to even faze her. "Did he say what he wanted me to do?"

"The pool outside is heated and there are trails to walk on the grounds. And the library has always been impressive — Mr. Julian keeps adding to that."

"A library?" I asked, perking up. "Do you mean like a study with some bookshelves?"

"Oh, it's considerably more than that. We had the collection catalogued last year and there's over 100,000 volumes."

"Wow," I said breathlessly, overwhelmed at the decadence of it. What did one person need with a public library's worth of books? "That's amazing."

I followed her into the bathroom and gasped again. It was like something out of Roman fresco. Tall columns stood on either side of a raised platform that held a recessed tub large enough for several people.

White tile with flecks of gold was cold underneath my feet and extended from the floor and up the walls. The shower on the far side was simply a wall of frosted glass. Everything in the room gleamed silver, white and gold.

"This is ridiculous,” I murmured.

Naomi laughed. "Wait until you see the rest of the house."

She left the room as I let the sheet fall to the floor and climbed into the tub. The water was hot and I groaned as it relaxed my sore muscles. Between the private plane and this, I was nearly overwhelmed with luxury. The crappy two-bedroom apartment that I shared with my family seemed like a world away from my current surroundings.

I reminded myself not to get used to this — or used to him. Regardless of the intensity of Julian's desire for me, eventually he would get bored, just like a spoiled child in this house full of expensive toys. And just like a toy, eventually he would put me away to gather dust with all of the rest.

Whatever we had, it couldn't last forever.

* * *

T
he more of
the house that I explored, the more overwhelmed I was by its excess. The heated pool that Naomi mentioned was olympic-sized and set into a formation of rocks with a waterfall flowing into it, just like something out of a fantasy mermaid's grotto.

Trails wound down from where the house sat on top of a hill to a penned area in the valley below. I was pretty sure it contained a stable because two gorgeous horses were visible grazing in the distance.

I wondered what happened here when Julian was away. He obviously couldn't spend much of his time here with his primary workplace so far away in Chicago. This house seemed like a ridiculous place to keep just to hide away his mistresses.

The idea left me cold. I had kept thoughts of his wife at bay for as long as I could. But the idea that he had her there and kept me here made me more ashamed than anything he and I had ever done together.

I had tricked myself into thinking that knowing about her existence would be enough to strengthen my resolve. But here I was — waiting on him while he flitted between us like a hummingbird moving between two equally appealing flowers.

The logical part of me screamed for me to leave. If I just started walking eventually I'd make it to a town or flag down a car to pick me up. If need be, I could go to the police. Julian couldn't keep me here against my will, not if I truly wanted to go.

But I didn't want to go — and that was the real source of my shame. I wanted his hands on my body. I wanted to submit my will to him and have him use me for his desires. His face swam in my vision when I closed my eyes and haunted my dreams.

I love him.
Damn my traitorous heart. I didn't have the strength to walk away.

Naomi had shown me to the library and it was as impressive as she had made it sound. Mahogany shelves two stories tall filled the room, the musky smell of vellum and ink like a tantalizing aroma.

But I couldn't concentrate enough to read. So I wandered the house instead, if just to distract myself from my own thoughts. I opened doors and peeked into guest rooms — nine of them in all! The master suite was at the top of the stairs and it was austere as Julian was, all dark wood and minimal decoration.

The ornate double staircase reminded me of something out of a fairytale. I imagined walking down the stairs with a gown flowing behind me like a real life princess.

I touched the banister as I passed and the wood was smooth under my fingertips. The foyer below was lit by a crystal chandelier that twinkled even in daylight. The window above the front doors gave a spectacular view of the trees and mountains beyond.

The house was big enough to comfortably house a dozen families like mine. It was a little ridiculous that all of this was reserved for one person when so many people had nothing. Of course, that didn't stop it from being the most beautiful place that I had ever seen.

I shook off a sudden chill that came over me despite the warm sunlight shining on me. I continued down the hallway, wandering aimlessly as I explored the house.

This hallway was darker. There were no windows to illuminate it and only a single sconce on the wall that barely shone with the brightness of a candle.

The door at the end was somehow different than the others, even though I couldn't quite put my finger on how. It was made of the same pale wood as the rest with the same ornate gold handle. I'd peeked into all of the rooms, but this one drew me in — in a way that I couldn't explain.

I attempted to turn the handle but it refused to budge.

Locked.

"That's strange," I murmured to myself. I tried again and realized it wasn't just locked but bolted. A round keyhole above the door handle made it clear that I wouldn't be getting into the room anytime soon.

I'd explored enough to know that none of the other doors in the house were locked. Whatever was in this room, Julian clearly wanted to keep it hidden.

Naomi was in the kitchen preparing dinner when I found her. She had a whole salmon laid out on a platter, surrounded by slices of lemon and herbs. I could feel its eyes on me as I walked up to the counter. I'd never been comfortable with food that was served still wearing its face.

"Bored already?" she asked, sliding a pile of fingerling potatoes off her cutting board and into a bowl.

"Not exactly." I pulled myself up onto a barstool. "But I do have a question for you."

"Shoot." She pushed a plate of cut fruit towards me.

I picked out a piece of pineapple and popped it into my mouth. "What's with that room upstairs with the locked door."

"Which room?"

"The only one that has the door locked."

"I'm not sure," Naomi said, her voice repressive. "Big house like this has plenty of locked doors."

I got the distinct impression that she knew precisely which room I was talking about. "Don't you have keys?"

"No," she said, sharply. Then she caught herself and her tone softened. "Some things is best left where they lay. I think you should put it from your mind."

"Sure." My curiosity was more than piqued, but I could tell she had no intention of telling me anything. Pursuing the subject of the locked room wasn't worth alienating the only other person in the house. "Will dinner be ready soon?"

"In about an hour, just in time for when Mr. Julian will be getting home."

My heart skipped a beat. "He'll be back in an hour?"

Naomi cut her eyes at me before her gaze returned to the cutting board. "Called a bit ago to say we should be expecting him."

An awkward silence descending between us, broken only by chop of her butcher knife. Finally, it was more than I could take.

"Naomi?"

She glanced up at me. "What, honey?"

"What did h-he…what did Julian tell you about me?"

Naomi continued to chop vegetables, carefully not looking at me. "Just that you'd be staying here for a bit and to make sure you had anything you need."

"That's it?"

"I've been looking after this house long enough not to ask Mr. Julian no questions about his affairs. He tells me what I need to know."

I forced myself to finally ask the question that burned at me. "Does he do this a lot — bring women here?"

She set down the knife and looked up at me, a pensive look on her face. "Wouldn't call you much more than a girl, I'm being honest."

"I'm twenty-two," I said pertly, recognizing her attempt at distracting me. "And you know what I mean."

"You ask a whole mess of questions." Naomi set her hand on her hip and tapped her fingers on the counter. "But no, unless Mr. Julian's been sneaking them into the basement at night, ain't never been no women brought in here like this — far as I know, at least."

I wanted to ask her about Julian's wife but resisted the urge. Revealing the fact that I knew that I was a home wrecker probably wouldn't endear me to her.

"You best go get ready for dinner." Naomi picked up the knife and pointed to the door. "Mr. Julian will be home soon."

Whatever I was going to say died in my throat as I turned to leave the room. I didn't know what instructions Julian had given Naomi, but she clearly intended to keep his secrets.

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