tagBDSMArcadia Castle Ch. 02

Arcadia Castle Ch. 02

byHal1031©

Chapter 2: THE HANDLER

"You're my handler?"

Cole shrugged. "If the term bothers you, think of me as your personal guide."

The thing was, the term didn't bother me at all. Cole wasn't a bad guy when he wasn't purposely trying to be an asshole. He also happened to be tall, dark, and muscly—exactly my type, which I'm sure was no accident. Cole could handle me all he wanted. In fact, I couldn't wait till the next time, and from the smug look on his face, I was pretty sure he knew it.

"And right now," he continued, "I'm going to guide you... to your guest suite." He started down the long hallway, and I carefully put one foot in front of the other in the ridiculous platform sandals. I didn't need the added humiliation of falling on my ass, especially since it was quite sore at the moment.

"So... does that mean you're going to be a part of every..." I hadn't a clue how to even finish that sentence—but Cole did.

"Scene? Is that a hopeful note I detect in your voice?" Cole chuckled at his own joke. I kind of wanted to punch him again.

"I doubt it," I grumbled, but I could tell I wasn't fooling either of us.

He took mercy on me and answered my question. "I won't necessarily be a part of every scene. I mean, I'm highly versatile, but there are some things I simply cannot be." He paused to let that sink in. "That said, while you're with us at Arcadia, I will personally oversee your experience."

"Just mine?"

"Let's put it this way," he said with a widening smile. "You're the only guest I'm assigned to for the next thirty daysbarring any serious interpersonal conflicts between us, that is."

Two men in long white lab coats turned the corner and walked down the hall toward us, speaking quietly to each other and pretty much minding their own business until Cole called out, "Good morning, gentlemen."

They stopped in their tracks and looked me up and down as if Cole had signaled for them to do just that. "Morning, professor," said the taller of the two, neither man taking his eyes off me. "This one's been to see the headmaster?"

Cole slowed to a stop and I had no choice but to stand there while they all gawped and discussed my sexual fantasies as if talking about the weather.

"Yes," Cole answered cheerfully, "but I think she's learned her lesson... for the time being, anyway."

They all laughed. A shiver shook my shoulders.

The shorter man stepped way too close to me, licking his lips. "That leather paddle can be quite... persuasive," he said. A personal favorite of his, I guessed from the man's hungry response.

I clasped my hands in front of me to cover what I could. The man's eyes pinched in frustration. Fuck, I'd set him off.

"Humph," he huffed. "She hasn't mastered respect, by a long shot." He sent a flash of heat to my face and chest with his angry glare, then turned to Cole and waited for him to deal with me.

I risked a glance at Cole's face and watched him slip back into his professor role before my eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Dawn," Cole said in that gruff voice that shot right through me, "hands clasped behind you."

I obeyed quickly, grateful for Cole's earlier rearrangement of my top. At least there was a thin layer of fabric between my chest and the beady eyes of the scientist, though he moved even closer, and I could feel his hot breath on my nipples.

I'd nearly forgotten about the third man until he cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at Cole. "Perhaps the headmaster didn't leave enough of an impression on this one."

"You're welcome to have a look for yourself, doctor," Cole said, stepping away from my side and offering me up like a slab of beef.

Cole's impassive expression chilled me; he was going to be no help with these two. In fact, he seemed to be doing everything possible to facilitate my humiliation again. Of course he would. It was his entire job description.

"Don't mind if I do." The taller "doctor" stepped around behind me.

I stood like a statue while they examined me from both sides.

A sudden open-handed smack on my ass threw me forward with a squeal. The man in front of me caught me with his hot hands on my breasts and squeezed while the other man ran his palms all over my stinging bottom.

"She's still warm from her punishment," he said with a low hum of approval.

I was mortified to feel a gush between my legs, and I prayed they wouldn't notice how much they were arousing me with this public display. Cole's voice cut in.

"Is everything in order, doctors?"

They steadied me from front and back, then released me. God bless you, Cole.

The tall one spoke. "Yes. My colleague and I will file our report when we get back to the lab."

"Very good. Thank you, doctors," Cole said. "Dawn?"

My head snapped to Cole.

"Don't you have something to say to these kind men who took the time to inquire after your well-being?"

I let out a shaky, "Thank you," then held my breath until they walked on.

Cole returned to my side. "At ease, soldier," he said in his gentle, handler voice. I was glad to see the professor go—again but I couldn't help feeling betrayed.

"Speaking of serious interpersonal conflicts..." I said under my breath.

Cole answered with a chuckle and led me down the hall. I kept my guard up this time, but we walked in silence without passing any other potential embarrassments.

A heavy door marked the end of the long hallway. Cole opened with a plastic key card, and a carpeted hall forked to the left and right in front of us. We turned right and passed a door marked "1" on our left, turning slightly left and continuing along. Clearly, we'd exited the lab area and had entered the plush guest wing. I followed Cole past five more guest rooms, all on our left, curious why they were all on the same side of the curved hallway.

"Ahh, here we are," he said finally. Cole stepped in front of me, inserted a long, brass key into the lock, and opened door number 7. "Home sweet home." The elegant room resembled the image I'd viewed online.

"Step right in, milady," Cole said, waving me inside and pocketing the key.

"Are you planning to lock me in?" I asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep the panic out of my voice.

"Technically... yes," Cole answered, "but we prefer to think of it as maintaining a control environment for our subjects. We can't allow any variables to slip in and skew our data."

"I must have missed that part of the fine print."

Cole nodded agreeably. "Let me show you around your suite," he said. "You might be more comfortable changing out of that?" He gestured toward the closet.

"Thanks. Yeah, that'd be nice, actually." I opened the closet doors expecting to see a month's worth of wardrobe... or at least, a full-coverage, terrycloth robe. The "closet" was a large, mirrored dressing room, entirely empty except for a single hanger holding a white lab coat similar to the two I'd just encountered in the hallway. Better than the sodden thong and sad excuse for a top I was wearing, but hardly a creature comfort.

I pulled the coat off the hanger and started to wrap it around my shoulders. Cole interrupted by clearing his throat—a polite, but equally demanding, version of the bossy professor. I turned to find him grinning at me.

"Actually, that's for me."

I looked more closely at the embroidered name over the pocket. Cole. I threw it at him. He took his sweet time taking off his blazer and hanging it in my closet, then settling his lab coat around his broad shoulders. It wasn't a bad look on him. But then, I doubted if Cole had any bad looks.

"And what am I supposed to wear, Doctor Cole?"

He stepped all the way into the closet, reached for something on the shelf, and tossed me a folded paper johnnie. "The opening goes in the back."

So much for comfort.

I fluffed the thin white square, and it crinkled as it unfolded into a rectangle with two large armholes. "Where's the belt?" I asked, anticipating my next journey down the dangerous hallways in this place.

"Sorry," he answered, looking not at all sorry.

I hated him again.

"So, is this all I'm wearing for the rest of my stay, then?" I'd meant it as a joke, but Cole just gave me another of his inscrutable shrugs.

"Everything depends on where your desires lead."

Right.

Cole held out his hand and waited. "Are you gonna make me say it, Dawn?" he asked. "Because I really don't mind telling you to take off—"

"No!" A tingle traveled down my spine. No, I didn't want him to say it out loud. Bad enough I was alone in tight quarters with this man, about to bare all. I turned my back to Cole and let the johnnie drift to the floor.

The shoe buckles required bending over, and I tried to manage as modestly as possible. Never before had removing a pair of shoes felt so scandalous. I avoided Cole's expression as I looped the straps over his fingers, then hung the long socks over his wrists.

I stripped off the camisole and thong in one smooth motion and threw them both at his chest. He stared nonchalantly while I poked my hands through the armholes and clasped the paper together behind my back.

"Better?" he asked.

"I don't really know." Besides, I didn't love the implication of our two outfits, but I tried to put that out of my mind for the moment.

Cole motioned me out of the closet. "C'mon, let me give you that tour now. You'll feel better when you see the tub. Everyone does."

I followed him into the luxurious bathroom. "As you can see, your suite is well stocked. You'll find all your familiar brands of toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner... all the comforts of home." Minus the clothes, any sense of modesty and control, and—oh, by the way—the husband.

Cole pointed out the minibar as we returned to the bed. "Your favorite brands of tequila and vodka, if I'm not mistaken?" He barely waited for me to nod before opening the drawer of the nightstand.

I gasped at the array of dildos, vibrators and tubes of gel laid out like a smorgasbord.

"A customized selection, handpicked by our attentive staff, for your most intimate pleasure," Cole said. "The newest and best on the market. If you should need any of these models demonstrated, just let me know. I am happy to assist."

"I can probably handle those myself, Mr. Handler," I told him grumpily.

"As you wish." He gave me a contented nod. "However, the offer stands. I do hope you won't be shy, Dawn. We wouldn't want you to miss out on anything."

"No," I agreed, eyeing the various shapes and sizes with excitement and more than a little fear.

Cole slid the drawer shut, picked up the TV remote, and turned on the giant screen hanging on the wall at the foot of the king bed. "You'll find your basic cable stations on channels one through ten," he said, scrolling through to demonstrate, "and the next twenty channels are the taped feeds from the closed-circuit TV cameras in the fantasy rooms."

"You taped my scene?"

"Oh, not me. I was kind of busy, if you'll recall." He winked, sending a shiver down my spine. Yes, I remembered. "Everything is monitored here, Dawn. Don't tell me you missed that in the fine print, too?"

"I definitely missed the part about my scenes being broadcast into all the other—twenty, did you say?—guest rooms!"

"You can watch their sessions, too," Cole replied, as if that made me feel better about nineteen random strangers watching the headmaster and Cole take off my clothes, humiliate me, spank me... "Here, have a look."

I watched in horrified fascination as he clicked to channel eleven. A woman lying naked, face-down on a massage table in a candlelit room, clearly enjoying the attention of two virile, bare-chested men at once. Clearly, this woman had not spent her time online staring at the dungeon.

Cole changed the channel, filling the screen with an obviously aroused, well-endowed, young man kneeling naked in front of a beefy man fitted in head-to-toe leather and chains. I could only guess which man was the guest and which was the Arcadia employee, but Cole had already flipped through several more channels, giving me only the briefest glimpse of each.

"So, Dawn... is your appetite wet?" he asked slyly.

"I could probably find something to entertain myself for a while." I was ready for some alone time with my TV and toys, and Cole damn well knew it.

"I know you're probably feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the choices right now, but we find that most of our guests overcome that kid-in-the-candy-store anxiety after a few days. Most narrow their viewing down to three or four subjects they especially enjoy following... after watching their own, of course."

He scrolled to the channel showing my session with the headmaster. I felt the remembered tingle between my legs as on-screen Cole lifted my skirt for the headmaster's paddle. My eyes closed briefly, remembering the cool sting of leather. A soft moan escaped me, much to Cole's amusement.

"Yeah, I liked that part, too," he teased gently.

"Ugh." I turned away from the screen, as if that could erase the scene playing on god-only-knows how many guest rooms right this very minute.

"Just so you're aware, each tape loops back to the beginning when it reaches the end, but—" Cole pressed a button on the remote and the scene rewound to where I'd bent forward over the headmaster's desk. "You can also replay your favorite parts again and again. Slow motion can be fun, too..." We both watched as Cole slid my skirt up in agonizing frame-by-frame. "The remote is also programmed to accept voice commands, should your hands happen to be occupied. Pause!" he shouted suddenly, and the image froze just as the paddle met my bare ass. He left it right there and tossed the remote onto my bed.

"Gee, thanks," I said.

"All part of the job." He gave me a big ol' customer-service grin.

"So, let me ask you something."

"Shoot."

"If I... watch those other fantasies in action, won't it kind of spoil the suspense?"

"Nope, not even a little. Every fantasy is customized. They're like snowflakes; no two are ever alike."

"Huh."

His smile darkened a bit, his eyes went from watercooler banter to come-hither in a flash. "Take your schoolgirl fantasy, for example. We don't put many girls in the corner like that."

A blush heated my face, and I was right back in that corner with my nose pressed to the wall. "No?" I said, a little more breathless than I would have liked.

Cole stepped closer, lifting his palm to cup my warm cheek. "Oh no, Dawn. That was a little bonus the headmaster and I cooked up, just for you." Cole winked, turning my insides to liquid.

"Ahem... okay. And how long do these tapes keep looping?"

Cole wiggled his eyebrows at me. "Until the subject does something more interesting. Don't worry, though. When you leave here at the end of your thirty days, you'll receive a full DVD collection of all your time here to enjoy again and again."

"Thanks, but I really can't imagine ever wanting to watch myself on screen," I said, my pussy twitching even as the words rolled over my tongue.

"Well," Cole said, leaning toward me with a knowing grin, "you'd certainly be the first."

I pictured myself back home, sitting on the couch with Kevin at my side, watching these two men paddle and spank me, watching Cole's fingers disappear into my pussy, Kevin pulling me across his lap... and somehow, the omniscient Cole knowing exactly when it all happened. Ugh.

"Wait! You just said, 'all my time here.' Does that mean everything is monitored? Even now, in my room?"

Cole set down the clicker. "Oh, definitely. No opportunity to gather data goes to waste here. There are five live camera feeds in every guest suite—"

I yanked the johnnie closed at my back. "Everyone can see me right now?"

"No, no, no, not everyone." Cole set his hand on my arm to steady me. "The guests do not have access to the boudoir footage."

My heart slowed to a gallop. "But the staff...?"

"Yes, of course. Around the clock monitoring." Cole shrugged.

I looked around the suite, feeling more exposed than ever. "In the bathroom, too?"

He nodded. "We often get our best information from showers and baths. People tend to forget their inhibitions in the bathroom..." Cole trailed off, and I didn't even try to imagine what he was thinking about. "But honestly, the cameras are a minor part of the monitoring equipment. Almost not worth worrying about."

"What do you mean, 'a minor part'?" Every casual phrase that fell out of Cole's mouth seemed to hammer home exactly how vulnerable I was.

"Compared to the body heat maps, atmospheric blood pressure and respiratory monitors, serotonin sensors, limbic feeds... basically any physical evidence of arousal is captured by our equipment. The video feeds are almost irrelevant."

"Then why even bother with the hidden cameras?"

Cole answered patiently, though he'd probably heard the objections before. "Visual data points will always have merit. Sometimes, an erect nipple tells the whole story, you know?" He eyed my chest, the thin paper hiding nothing from his view.

Gulp.

"Also," Cole added, "not all of the cameras are hidden."

"What?"

Cole's gaze moved to the windows comprising the far wall of the room. He pointed to the ceiling, and I followed his finger to a camera clearly trained on the chaise lounge. "A special playground for our guests with exhibitionist tendencies," Cole said, adding, "and who doesn't have a few of those?"

I watched, my jaw hanging open, as he walked over to the chaise and pressed a button on the wall behind it. The horizontal slats covering the window tipped open gradually, letting in light and the astonishing view—the other guest rooms arranged in a circle, with wall-to-wall windows facing each other. No wonder all the rooms were on one side of the curved hallway. Made perfect sense, considering the turrets I'd seen on the website.

"What the hell?" My feet carried me to the windows. About half of the blinds were wide open, and most of the others were open at least slightly.

"What's the deal with those rooms that are partially open?" I asked Cole.

"They can see out, but you can't see in."

"Voyeurs?" I asked.

"There's a fair amount of that, sure," Cole answered, "but some guests just need a little time to warm to the idea."

Well, no wonder! All those people whose fantasy scenes were playing on infinite loop inside my TV, and mine playing on theirs, were actual, real people, right on the other side of those windows.

"And that's okay? I mean... people don't mind if you look and don't show?"

"Trust me, those who choose to open their shades are more than okay with anyone who wants to look."

"What if nobody's there to watch?"

Cole chuckled. "You mean if an exhibitionist masturbates in the forest but there's nobody there to watch, was it still fun?"

I looked at Cole and laughed. "Something like that, yeah."

He pointed again to the camera in the ceiling. "Someone's always watching."

"Right." I stepped away from the chaise. "That thing you said earlier, about people choosing their favorites to watch..."

"Mmhmm?"

"This is part of that, isn't it?" I waved my hand toward the window, wondering which rooms belonged to the two guests I'd seen very briefly on my TV.

"Only if you want it to be. It's always your choice," said Cole. "Those blinds are yours to control," Cole said quietly. "They can stay closed the whole time you're here... or not."

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