Prince of Darkness vs Prom Queen

PRINCE OF DARKNESS vs PROM QUEEN

coldhandsÌwarmheart ©2013

Hi --

This is my first submission to Literotica, so I'm looking forward to all comments.

Hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading.

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Chapter 1 -- Meeting the Prince

The iron gate was imposing. The damp night air was chilly. This part of town, with its mansion sized homes on expansive properties, hidden behind high stone walls and acres of woods, was downright intimidating, especially on this dark, misty, moonless night. Particularly when she was standing alone in front of the imposing iron gate because her taxi had taken off down the deserted street like the proverbial bat out of hell, the instant she paid the fare, and because this was about the last place she ever expected to find herself and her damned curiosity.

Why the hell had she ever agreed to take this assignment? Curiosity wasn't a good enough excuse. Imbecility might be a reason, maybe coupled with her desire to prove herself, get ahead, and be taken seriously as a writer. Laci loved writing, loved observing and talking to people, listening to their stories and situations, hearing about the things that made them do what they did and feel what they felt. She had been working at her present job since graduation -- all 18 months since graduation. The local magazine was up and coming, and for the first year, it looked as if she was up and coming right along with it. She started with mediocre jobs, but proved she could handle bigger things. It wasn't long before she started getting better assignments, always because she earned them, not because she stepped on anyone to get them. She was quiet, kept mostly to herself, but her colleagues liked her and the job was quickly evolving into her dream job. Until Frank Harding took over as her boss.

Something about him made Laci uneasy the first time she met him. He didn't look at her; he leered at her. As the weeks went on, he started coming on to her in a subtle, almost underhanded way. She didn't exactly rebuff him, but she tactfully made him aware she wasn't interested in anything except her job. That same job started to rapidly disintegrate. Instead of top stories, her assignments became covering events like the opening of a new petting zoo. She wasn't sure she could prove sexual harassment, since he never made comments in front of anyone else, and he had pretty much shaken up the entire magazine staff, so she wasn't being singled out, but everything about Frank made Laci's skin crawl. She started to put feelers out, looking for a new job, but jobs for novice writers were in short supply, and she had worked hard to achieve what she had so far. Still, she was beginning to think working anywhere was better than facing another of Frank Harding's repulsive glances or remarks.

She wished she hadn't left the newspaper on her desk, folded open to the article about the BDSM lifestyle. The article was interesting. Sure, she read FIFTY SHADES OF GREY, and so had millions of other people. She was curious, but it was just a book and a damned newspaper article. It wasn't as if she was showing up to work wearing her t-shirt that said 'SPANK ME'. Yes, she was curious, but she had always been curious about life and different lifestyles. Her curiosity helped contribute to making her a better writer, and part of that curiosity was about Donovan Corbett, Dominant, Master, Trainer of Sex Slaves, Mephistopheles in an Armani suit. He had been mentioned in the article, but had refused an interview.

Laci was aware of Donovan Corbett. Everyone in town was aware of Donovan Corbett. The man was a respected business owner and entrepreneur, who made no secret of his personal proclivities. Laci's natural curiosity had her wondering about the personal proclivities of other people in town, considering how readily he was accepted by almost everyone. No one seemed to have a bad word to say about the man. She had seen him in person only once, about a year earlier, at a community event. Dark hair, even darker eyes, over six feet tall, good looking, charismatic, and she could see why people might be drawn to him, just not enough to surrender themselves, body and soul. From that one sighting, whenever she read about him, she thought of him as the Prince of Darkness. Still, she was curious.

He was fascinating, intriguing and even though she was afraid to approach him, she wanted to ask a thousand questions. Who was the real Donovan Corbett? What mattered to him? Why had he made the choices he had? What did he like about being a dominant, being in control? Boxers or briefs?

She doubted he noticed her as she watched him that night. He looked sophisticated, well-traveled and well educated, as if he could select wine better than any sommelier, or speak more than one language, or know who designed his suit just by the way the button was attached. He also looked very spoiled, as though he never bothered to wonder how clean socks appeared when he needed them. She had the feeling if Donovan Corbett was in a laundry room, he wouldn't know the washer from the dryer. It was more likely, he'd have to ask directions just to get to the laundry room.

But, he certainly commanded attention. From the minute he walked into the room, every person, including Laci, had been aware of it. His presence was cold, aloof, guarded, and it was interesting how the way he stood, even the gestures he made were intimidating and masterful, although considering his line of work, that wasn't unexpected. He was surrounded by people the entire evening, yet he seemed almost.......lonely. Okay, that had to be her imagination. A man like Donovan Corbett wouldn't be lonely. Laci understood how it felt to be lonely and while it wasn't likely he'd shackle someone to a wall, work them over with a riding crop, then invite them for a beer, he probably had plenty of friends. Observing him that evening made Laci even more curious about the Prince of Darkness.

When Frank Harding saw the article on her desk, he made a number of off color, suggestive remarks, strongly sprinkled with innuendo, then he challenged her, almost dared her, to get an interview with Donovan Corbett, get the story he hadn't been willing to give the reporter of the article. Frank hadn't thought much of Laci's writing skills, so if she could pull this off, he said he'd start looking at her abilities differently and consider her for better assignments. Her curiosity and desire to get ahead won out.

Laci agreed, positive she wouldn't be given the chance to get close to him. Why would the Prince of Darkness agree to be interviewed by a novice and completely unknown writer, especially about his choice of lifestyle? To her jaw-dropping shock, Frank called her into his office and told her Donovan Corbett agreed to the meeting. She had been instructed to take a taxi and be there promptly at 7pm. Her return transportation would be arranged, which was why she was standing, alone, on a dark, deserted street, in front of the imposing iron gate to his home.

Suddenly, nothing about this seemed right and if the taxi hadn't taken off so fast, she probably would have changed her mind. It was so far out of town, even her cell phone wasn't getting reception. She wasn't familiar with this neighborhood and as Laci glanced around, she realized there weren't even any other houses close by. It was her, his dark home surrounded by even darker woods, and the iron gate with the Prince of Darkness on the other side. Taking a deep breath, she rang the bell.

At first, there was nothing, then a crackle of sound and a red light illuminated on the intercom box. Laci announced herself, watched the light go out and listened to the rumble of the iron gate as it swung open. Ahead she could see the grand, almost medieval style manor, the front door lit with a lantern on either side. Set far back from the road, it was going to take several minutes just to walk to that door. Laci started the trek, jumping when the gate slammed closed behind her. Instantly, she felt trapped, more than a little uneasy, and a lot like she was being watched. Taking a deep breath, trying to shake off her concerns, Laci continued towards the door.

Her concerns were well-founded. She was being watched.........by the Prince of Darkness, himself.

Donovan Corbett sat inside his manor, more than a little perplexed at the sight of Laci ambling up the driveway. The many security cameras allowed him to watch her approach, catching her apparent reluctance, noting how the sound of the gate startled her. She didn't look anything like the women Frank Harding usually sent. This one looked like she had been voted Prom Queen, or maybe teacher's pet. He'd bet anything she slept with a damned teddy bear. Still, looks could be deceiving.

Just look at Frank Harding....expensively dressed, wealthy and respected member of the community in public, depraved bastard behind closed doors. He had sent Donovan a number of women over the years, and when they were ready, Donovan sent them back. Perhaps that was a bit of a stretch. From the things he'd heard, Donovan wasn't sure any of them had actually been ready for what they faced at the hands of Frank Harding. The guy was pretty much nothing more than a twisted sadist with a lot of money who was willing to pay people like Donovan Corbett to do some preliminary dirty work he didn't have time for, but he paid well, and if the women were willing to enter into a relationship with Harding, it was none of Donovan's business.

Laci finally reached the door, and rang the bell. Donovan watched as she smoothed her hair and adjusted the collar of her blazer. She seemed slightly familiar and for some reason, he was instantly annoyed with her for getting involved with Frank Harding. A man ushered her into the house and towards the east wing where Donovan sat behind his desk.

The man opened a door and she entered. The door closed behind her and again she jumped slightly at the sound. It was like a little bit of sunshine entering his office. He suddenly remembered where he had seen her before. It had to have been at least a year ago at one of those endlessly boring community occasions he hated. He spent most of the evening watching her, watching him, and being annoyed rather than flattered. She wasn't watching him like women usually watched him. He remembered feeling like she had placed him under a microscope for observation.

Now he had the opportunity to observe her. She was rather tiny, not much over five feet tall, he guessed, and actually quite lovely with her long blonde hair and large cornflower blue eyes. If she was involved with Harding, the Prom Queen aura had to be an act. She hadn't just perfected the ability to look naïve and innocent. This one looked almost virginal. He could see why Harding would be interested in her, but what the hell did she see in Frank Harding? Probably his money and his power. That's what they all seemed to see. For some reason, Donovan's annoyance grew.

She tried to look and feel confident as she walked towards the desk, her hand extended. "Good evening, Mr. Corbett. I'm Laci Grace. Thank you for agreeing to see me."

Laci Grace. Even her name annoyed him. Of course her name would be Laci Grace. Anyone who looked as sugar and spice as she looked would have to have a name like Laci Grace. He wondered if it was her real name, or an identity she assumed to play her part. Donovan neither stood up nor reached for her extended hand. He sat silently in his chair, his dark eyes glittering cold and hard in the dimly lighted room. He had mastered the art of intimidation a long time ago.

Laci wasn't completely intimidated, in fact, she was more than a little annoyed at his apparent rudeness. When it became obvious he was not about to stand up like a gentleman, or shake her outstretched hand, she dropped her hand to her side and stood in front of the desk, watching him.

"You're late." The sound of his voice was deep, quiet, cruel, cutting, befitting the Prince of Darkness. The two words made Laci's insides shiver.

"I apologize, Mr. Corbett. I thought you said 7pm."

"It's 7:02pm."

Was he going to refuse to see her because she was two minutes late? "Again, Mr. Corbett, I'm sorry. I wasn't anticipating the walk from the gate to your front door to take as long as it did. Would you prefer to reschedule?"

"Is that an excuse?"

She wasn't sure why he had agreed to see her. He didn't seem at all inclined to share the story of his life plus she seemed to have annoyed him the minute she walked in the door. "No, Mr. Corbett. It's not an excuse. It's a fact."

"I don't tolerate excuses, Miss Grace, nor do I tolerate insolence. You've accrued three punishments. Not a good start considering you've been here less than one minute."

Laci stared at him in shock, expecting him to smile or laugh or tell her he was joking. He did none of those things. "Mr. Corbett, perhaps I should come back another time." As she turned, she heard a soft chime. Almost instantly the office door opened, and the man who had let her into the house entered the room, closed the door and stood silently, blocking her exit.

"Miss Grace, this is Victor, my houseman and assistant. He'll be of use to both of us during your stay. You may give him your clothes and we'll get started."

Laci turned back and looked directly at the Prince of Darkness. She was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute and his cold, almost calculating gaze didn't help. "During my stay? What do you mean, during my stay, and what do you mean, give him my clothes?"

Donovan glared at her, his dark eyes making Laci feel as though she was looking straight into the heart of Satan. "Miss Grace, you are trying my patience and accumulating punishments for every minute of my time you waste. Frank Harding already told me about your love of playing the hapless victim. I'm not interested in your playacting skills or in how you conduct your liaisons with Harding. I have a job to do." His voice got deeper, more thunderous with every word. "We can do this the hard way or the easy way. I assure you, the hard way will not be a problem for me. Now, strip!"

Laci did the best she could not to be intimidated by this brute. Even though her insides were shaking, she looked directly at him. "Mr. Corbett, we seem to have different ideas of how an interview is conducted. I'm sorry I disturbed you, and I thank you for your time. I'll see myself out."

She turned to the door, but Victor blocked her exit. It was obvious he wasn't moving to allow her to pass, as he stood in front of the door, watching her without any expression.

Donovan's tolerance had already exceeded its limits. If she wanted to do this the hard way, then it would be the very hard way. The sooner she learned, the better, especially if she was going to involve herself with Frank Harding. She deserved whatever she got.

"Okay, Miss Grace, we'll do this your way. Have a seat." He indicated a chair near the front of his desk. "Victor, bring our guest something to drink. What would you like, Miss Grace?"

Her curiosity made her wonder if the Prince of Darkness had balls the same size as his ego and audacity. "I don't want to have a seat and I don't want a drink. I just want to leave. Good-night, Mr. Corbett. Good-night, Victor." Again she started for the door, and again Victor's presence stopped her. "Please excuse me." She addressed her remark directly to Victor, who did not take even a small step out of her way.

"Miss Grace, you're being rude. I asked you to sit down. I certainly don't want to report to Mr. Harding how insolent you've been."

She'd had enough. "How dare you!" Her fury was not hard to miss. Donovan was actually enjoying it. No wonder Frank Harding found her so amusing. "I came here to interview you, at Mr. Harding's request. You've been beyond rude since I walked in the door, and far more insolent than I've ever thought of being. I don't care who you are and I don't care who you plan to report to, I'm leaving."

Donovan was beginning to understand why Frank Harding had sent her to him for training. She might enjoy role playing, but he was tiring of it, and was making a mental list of the variety of ways he was going to teach her about submission. "Miss Grace, you need to calm down. Have a sip of water."

Victor was at her side offering her a goblet of ice water. To calm her nerves, Laci reached for the cup and took a long swallow of cold water. She sight of Donovan Corbett sitting there, smirking at her, his eyes cold and impersonal, only made her even angrier. She ignored him, as she turned to the man standing at her side. "Thank you, Victor, and good night."

She headed directly for the door, and this time Victor did not stop her. Leaving the office, she headed down the hall, suddenly remembering she had no means of transportation, but she didn't care. She'd be damned if she'd ask Donovan Corbett to call a cab for her. She'd rather walk.

As she approached the front door, Victor passed next to her. "Allow me, Miss Grace," he said opening the door.

For an instant she stopped. "Thank you again, Victor." She started through the door, not taking more than a step, before the feeling of dizziness started to overwhelm her. She grabbed for the side of the door to steady herself, then tried for another step. As she slumped against Victor, she heard Donovan Corbett standing behind her. "I told you, Miss Grace, the hard way is no problem for me, in fact, I prefer it." The last thing she remembered was feeling as though a grey cloud was descending around her and the sound of a taunting laugh coming from the Prince of Darkness.

Chapter 2 -- The Lair

The cloud was lifting. Although still vaguely disoriented, Laci was starting to become more aware of her surroundings. She tried to lift her head, but it was fuzzy. She tried to move her arms and suddenly realized she wasn't able to move either her arms or legs because she was strapped down. As awareness returned, she was horrified to discover she was strapped to some kind of padded table, and she was completely naked. Burning with anger and humiliation she started to struggle, pulling at her bonds. She wasn't going anywhere.

From across the room, a voice invaded, "I see you're finally awake. I did warn you we could do this the hard way if that's what you preferred."

"You perverted bastard! Let me go! Who the hell do you think you are?" Her rage was more than a little obvious as she struggled harder, the realization sinking in that she was at this monster's mercy. "Why are you doing this to me? I've never done anything to you. Let me go!"

"I don't condone name calling, Miss Grace. Perhaps you need a lesson in manners." Donovan took his time strolling across the room.

Lying horizontally on the padded table, her wrists firmly tethered above her head, Laci couldn't see him until he was inches away from her. He moved swiftly, using all his strength, the narrow leather strap in his hand coming down hard, three times in rapid succession, across her upper thighs. The shock and pain was so intense, Laci couldn't even scream, as every bit of breath was knocked out of her. She lay silent, gasping, tears dripping from her frightened blue eyes.

"Victor, Miss Grace needs to cool off a bit. Move her to the ice chest."

She hadn't realized Victor was in the room, and she reddened with even more embarrassment. Moving behind her, he reached and released something under the table, tilting it so she was in a near vertical position, her arms still fastened above her head, her ankles strapped at the bottom. Now she was better able to take in her surroundings, horrified at what she was seeing.

This had to be the cave of hell, lair of the Prince of Darkness. Reading a few articles about bondage and discipline had not prepared her for the chains, ropes, hooks and straps hanging from the ceiling. Nor had they prepared her for the whips, paddles, and riding crops hanging from racks mounted to the walls, or the strange looking apparatus in every corner. When she arrived at Donovan Corbett's home, she was uneasy. When he met him, she was uncomfortable. When she opened her eyes and realized she was bound to the table, she was furious. Now, she was scared. And curious. What was he going to do?