tagBDSMArcadia Castle Ch. 03

Arcadia Castle Ch. 03

byHal1031©

Chapter 3: THE INTRUDER

Cole unlocked my room, and I proceeded directly to the bed and collapsed with a loud, contented sigh.

"Please tell me I'm not wearing this johnnie to dinner," I said.

"Nope, we're all done with that." He held out his hand, and for once, I happily peeled off the only thing covering my naked body, wadded it up, and tossed it to him.

"Does that mean there's something new hanging in my closet?" I was too tired to turn my head to look.

"I will deliver your evening attire when I come back for you."

I closed my eyes and nestled my head into the fluffy pillows. "Mmm. Mind turning off the lights when you go?"

Cole chuckled. "At your service, Ms. Leary." Pshh, as if. "You won't forget that shower we discussed?"

"Promise," I mumbled, just before nodding off.

***

I woke almost an hour later, fully rested and rejuvenated. I stretched my arms and legs with a huge yawn and sauntered into the bathroom.

I sat down to pee, snippets of my fantasy-filled day hitting me one by one like tiny lightning bolts. I could not stop smiling. Coming here was a very good idea.

My limbs tingled with that pleasant, post-workout fatigue as I shuffled to the sink. I caught a glimpse of my reflection while I brushed my teeth. Fuck if I wasn't glowing. Yep, I looked like a woman who'd had herself a very, very good day. And from the sound of it, Cole wasn't finished with me yet. Jesus. Were all the handlers as perfect as Cole? I couldn't imagine every guest at Arcadia was having as much fun as I was.

And then I remembered the windows, the cameras, all those TV channels... I suppose I could find out exactly how much fun people were having if I decided to dip my toe into those waters. A ripple of excitement tore through me, but it would have to wait. I'd promised my handler I would clean up.

The shower was big enough for a party, and the water pressure beat the hell out of our showerhead at home. I lathered up with my favorite shower gel, and shaved with care: legs, armpits, and neatened up the patch below. I shampooed and conditioned and rinsed under the powerful stream. Yes, the cameras were tracking me, but it was easy not to care. Maybe I'd get used to all of it after a while—the fantasy setups, the impromptu, random encounters with strangers who were permitted to see and touch me wherever and whenever, the nonchalant use of whips, clamps, feathers, fingers, the windows and cameras and constant state of arousal.

By the time I got out of the shower, I felt more like myself again—but a new and improved version, relaxed and eager to see where Arcadia could take me.

I wrapped my hair in one towel and my body in another and sat at the edge of my bed. I didn't know how much time I had before Cole would show up again, but I did know I was damn curious.

I grabbed the remote and clicked past the romantic massage on channel eleven, even though it looked like my fellow guest was headed toward a very happy ending. I flipped past the rough anal sex taking place on channel twelve, still unclear whether the guest was the leather-clad top or the twink bottom. Channel thirteen was some elaborate role play with fairy costumes. Click, click, click. I presumed my session was playing on seventeen, and I found myself clicking toward it when I was stopped in my tracks at channel sixteen: a woman bound to a chair with thick, white rope.

A tall man, dressed like a cat burglar in all black from his ski mask to heavy combat boots, paced behind her. His eyes, a mesmerizing green, were the only part of him not covered.

The woman's arms were pulled around the sides of the chair and bound behind, forcing her elbows wide and leaving her chest vulnerable. A thin, yellow tank tugged tightly across her chest and rode up past her belly button. A sliver of white cotton panties flashed beneath the denim skirt pushed high on her thighs, her bare ankles bound securely to the legs of the chair. I was half tempted to rewind the tape so I could watch him tie her up, but too excited to see what would happen next.

I dropped the remote next to me on the bed and scooted back toward the headboard to watch.

"This is the last time I'm going to ask nicely," the man said in a menacing voice that sent shivers up my spine. "What is the combination to the safe?"

My gaze moved from the glint of panties to the woman's face. Her eyes were wide with excitement. "I already told you," she answered, "I don't know." Her voice had a quiver of fear that almost made me feel sorry for her.

At the same time, I found myself rooting against the woman. I wanted—no, needed—to see what this dangerous man would do to her.

The man shook his head as if she'd disappointed him, then pulled a square of thick, white fabric from his pocket. "That was your last chance to talk, rich bitch." He rolled the cloth into a long, fat wad, pressed it between her lips and pulled it tight around her head.

She sucked in a panicked breath while he tied the gag behind her. No limits here. Once you signed that contract, everything they deemed "arousing" was fair game. What if I were the one tied up and gagged? Would I like it?

She let out a scared little mewl. Too scared to be turned on? It was hard to tell, but watching her was most definitely making me horny all over again.

"Well, here we are," the burglar was saying, pacing again, back and forth across the screen. The woman's eyes followed his every move. "If you're not gonna give up the jewels, I'll just have to take something else for my time and effort." He stepped behind her chair and yanked the tank top up over her bra. "Any ideas?"

She squealed into the gag, her breath coming quick and shallow. I opened my towel and let it fall open.

"Oh, right," he said cruelly. "Sorry, I forgot you can't speak."

He produced a switchblade and waved it in front of her eyes. "Don't move—not that you could." He bent over and sawed through the bra until the two cups popped apart. He pushed the cups roughly off to the sides and chuckled darkly as her breasts snapped back to the middle. "Those'll do, for starters."

She blinked her giant doe-eyes. Her chest rose and dropped with quick, shallow breaths. He watched, took his time pocketing the knife, making her squirm.

"If I didn't know better," he said, suddenly grasping both nipples at once between his gloved fingers, "I'd be tempted to say you're enjoying yourself." All she could do was groan into the gag. He laughed. "Guess I was right."

My hands slid to my breasts. I rolled my nipples between my fingers and plucked at the tight knots. I let out a moan. I could still feel the grip of those clamps.

The masked man moved to the woman's side to watch her face while he brushed his thumbs across her nipples. He leaned in and took one nipple between his teeth while he twisted the other roughly between his fingers. She cried out sharply. I pinched myself harder.

"Oh... you must be getting good and wet now, aren't you? Let's see, shall we?" He reached a hand beneath her skirt and ran the glove up the inside of her thigh. "What would your husband think if he heard you moaning like this for a stranger?"

She whimpered, her breaths deepening.

"Maybe he'd like to watch. What do you think? Should we wait for him to come home and find you all tied up and spread out for me?"

He taunted her while he slid his hand higher and closer to the shadow between her legs. "You dirty rich girls are all the same. Luring me to your home with your jewels, then holding out on the combination so you can get my filthy hands all over you... That's been your plan all along, hasn't it? Tell me the truth."

She let out a low moan. I skimmed my hands down my belly. Touch her, I begged.

He flicked open the blade again and crouched at her knees. "One false move and your pussy will have a new slit. Understand?" He waited for her to nod, then bunched her panties into one hand and sliced through with the knife. The fabric pulled apart, leaving her triangle of dark hair clearly visible between her legs.

He sawed her skirt in half until it fell open on both sides, then tucked away the knife. He pushed his hands along her thighs until his thumbs met at her bare pussy, brushed his fingers across her opening and spread the puffy lips, as if posing her for the hidden camera, for the viewers. For me.

Thank you. Thank you. I slid a finger inside my pussy.

"You are so wet. Fuck, you're ruining my gloves with your juices." He lifted his fingers to her nose. "Smell that sex? That's you." He wiped his fingers across her cheeks. "What do you say, sweetheart? Do you want me to touch you again? Hmm?"

She nodded. He laughed. "Was that a yes?"

Yes! Yes! My fingers were buried inside my pussy now.

She moaned, her eyes big and pleading, her cheeks pink with heat and shame.

"I'd make you beg if you weren't gagged," he teased. "Tell you what. Since you asked so nicely, I'll even take off my gloves." He peeled off his gloves and tossed them to the floor.

I don't know who groaned louder, the woman on the screen or me. His fingers were long and thick, and I could only imagine how they would feel on me, in me.

He moved behind her chair and bent forward, slapping his palms heavily onto her breasts and squeezing them until she strained against the gag. "I will definitely be back for these another day," he promised, gliding his hands down her belly.

She threw her head back and grunted as his fingertips traveled down her abdomen. He grasped a handful of dark pubic hair in his fist. She drew in a sharp breath behind the gag. He placed his lips at her ear.

"Next time we meet, this bush is gone. You understand? I don't want anything between your pussy lips and me." He held tight while she shook her head. "Good girl. I'm sure you have some fancy place you can go and have them wax it all off. When they rip out your hairs, and you feel like screaming... think of me." He loosened his grasp and swept his fingertips over her opening. She squirmed as much as the tight bondage would allow.

I circled my fingertips over my clit. I was so close, I wasn't sure I could wait for my on-screen neighbor.

He pushed one finger inside her and pressed his palm against her pubic bone. She squeaked.

In and out, he fingered her and ground the heel of his hand against her clit.

"Good thing I gagged you or your neighbors would be calling the police with all the noise," he taunted her. "The richer they are, the sluttier they are."

I closed my eyes, matching the rhythm of my hand to the thief's, pretending it was me tied up in that chair, my pussy he was fingering, me trying to keep my moans quiet, my neck he was breathing down with his teasing as my orgasm built...

"Well, well, well!" Cole. "Look who's got her fingers jammed inside the cookie jar."

Crap. I hadn't heard the key in the lock. Hadn't heard him walk over to the foot of my bed. Didn't know how long he'd been watching me touch myself. My cheeks blazed with heat.

I opened my eyes, saw him studying me at close range. Fuck, he looked hot as hell, dressed in a damn tux, hands on his hips, hungry gaze locked on mine.

"Well, go on, Dawn. Far be it from me to interrupt your fun." He sat down on the bed, his trousers touching my hip, hands folded in his lap, his eyes running up and down my naked body.

I considered doing it, finishing in front of him, which only got me hotter and more bothered. Instead, I grasped the towel beneath me and covered up as quickly as possible. "Nah, I'm good," I said, hoping it sounded more nonchalant than I felt.

"Are you sure? You looked like you were about to have a moment there."

Yeah, I was. "It's fine."

"If you're sure..."

"I'm sure."

He shrugged. "In that case, let's get you dressed for dinner. I'm starved."

***

The evening gown seemed too good to be true. Red silk halter-top, elegant and sexy, perfectly tailored to my curves and hemmed to the exact length for the satin stiletto heels.

I didn't even mind that there was no underwear or bra. The dress hugged me like a second skin. I felt classy and sexy—and human.

Cole even waited somewhat patiently while I applied mascara and the bright red lipstick that just happened to be the perfect shade for the dress. And he had the good graces to whistle when I emerged from my bathroom.

"You are looking extremely hot tonight, Dawn." Warmth spread through my body.

"You're not so bad yourself."

Cole bowed his head adorably. "Why, thank you." He looped a tiny evening bag over my wrist. "It's mostly for show, but there's a roll of Lifesavers in there."

"Thanks. That was sweet of you."

"Shall we?" He offered his elbow and I took it most happily.

A pleasant buzz accompanied us down the carpeted hall. Just before we reached the locked doors leading to the lab wing, Cole opened a nondescript stairwell door I'd assumed was the fire exit. A carpeted stairway led only up. I searched my memory for anything on the Arcadia Castle website about dining options, but I came up empty.

"So, is dinner always a formal affair?"

Cole turned to face me. "Nothing is always anything here," he answered. "Tonight is black tie...for us."

Okay, then. I didn't ask any more questions, and Cole offered no further information as he led me up the flight of stairs. I determined to enjoy the pleasure of his presence next to me for as long as it would last.

The stairwell opened to a very elegant dining room on the second floor. We might have been in any five-star restaurant in New York City. A waitstaff of men and women in black pants, gold jackets, and black ties buzzed quietly around tables set for two to four people. There must have been twenty tables, most already filled by the time we arrived, adorned in white linen, fine china, and softly flickering votives. I don't know what I expected, but I breathed a sigh of relief at the normalcy of it all. I couldn't imagine a more welcome end to the day I'd had than a quiet, elegant dinner with Cole.

Cole greeted the hostess, who knew him by name. She gave us both a wide smile and led us to a small, round table toward the middle of the large room. "Enjoy your dinner," she said.

Cole pulled out my chair, then settled me and sat down across from me.

"This is very nice," I said.

Cole nodded. "The food is excellent, too."

A server arrived right away to fill the water glasses and deliver a bread basket with various dips. It occurred to me that we hadn't been presented any menus, which might have been strange anywhere else, but I'd filled out food preferences and allergy surveys a mile long online. They'd probably measured my hunger through changes in atmospheric pressure and determined the best way to satisfy me. I stifled a chuckle.

A chilled martini glass was set at my place. The waiter opened the silver cocktail shaker over my glass, then poured the Cosmopolitan without a word. It was light, light pink, in other words, very, very strong.

Cole raised his water glass. "Cheers, to your first day at Arcadia."

I clinked my martini to his water and tasted my drink. Perfect, as expected. "Mmmm."

I smiled at Cole, and he smiled back.

I had a thousand questions, and he knew all the answers, but I sipped my martini.

He took a small piece of bread and slathered it with the olive tapenade. "Did you enjoy your nap?" he asked.

"Yes, it was lovely."

"You had a busy day today."

I sipped at my drink and snuck a peek around the room. It was impossible to distinguish guests from staff, but the tables of four had me curious. "Is this one of those opportunities you were talking about to come into contact with other guests?"

Cole smiled. "Yes, the communal dinner nights can be... interesting."

"Looks pretty tame to me," I said.

Our salads arrived, and I washed down the arugula and parmesan with the rest of my drink. I was feeling tipsy, relaxed, and happy. When the waiter arrived with my refill, I made a crack about being glad I didn't need to drive anywhere. He and Cole chuckled and nodded their encouragement.

I'd nearly drained my second drink when a tuxedo-clad man approached our table. "Hey, Cole. Sorry to intrude."

"No problem, man. What's up?"

The man turned to me. "You're the guest in room seven, correct?"

"Yes." I glanced questioningly at Cole, who turned to the intruder.

"Can we help you with something, Mason?" Well at least they knew each other, and Cole didn't seem particularly alarmed by his presence. I couldn't get a read beyond that.

The man smiled and pulled around a chair from a nearby table. Without asking, he sat down between us. "Matter of fact, yes."

If the monitors had been attached to me right now, they would've picked up on my quickened pulse. I trusted Cole to handle the situation.

Cole glanced at me and cleared his throat. "How so?"

This guy Mason studied me for several uncomfortable seconds, then turned to Cole. "Your dinner companion has something on her person that belongs to me."

My hands went clammy. I managed to set my drink down on the table. "What? I don't even know you." I looked frantically at Cole. "What could I have?"

To my great relief, Cole stood up and defended me. "I believe you are mistaken."

"You're vouching for this woman's character?" he challenged Cole. "You've known her... what, all of ten hours?"

My heart was pounding a mile a minute. I didn't know this man's authority, and I prayed Cole's word would suffice.

"That's not the point," Cole answered. "I personally picked out her outfit and helped her into it, and I can promise you, the only thing 'on her person' is that dress."

Mason stood up, toe-to-toe with Cole. He was significantly taller, and he did not look happy with Cole's answer. "What she stole from me could easily be concealed... somewhere I am far too polite to mention at such an elegant dining establishment."

I gasped. "No! Cole! I've never seen this man before. I have no idea what he's talking about!"

Cole pressed his finger to the man's chest. "Look, buddy, you have the wrong lady."

"How can you be so sure?" The man's lips curled into a scary snarl. "Unless you performed a thorough internal examination before putting her dress on..."

Cole snorted. "Not since this afternoon."

I would have been mortified if I weren't so terrified.

Mason was not amused. "Then she was alone for some stretch of time afterwards?"

"Yes. I left her to take a nap and shower."

"And my diamonds!" Mason added forcefully.

"What?" My head swiveled back and forth between the two of them. "Where would I get diamonds? You're crazy! I have no idea—"

"Hush!" Mason stunned me into silence, then turned to Cole. "Sit down."

Cole swallowed heavily, then sank into his chair. What the fuck? This was surreal. "Cole, I swear, I didn't do whatever he's—"

Mason slapped his hand onto the table and glared at me. "I told you to hush!" His voice was louder than restaurant-polite. I felt the eyes of every table upon us. This was getting out of hand.

Cole gave me a slight nod, and I pressed my lips together.

Mason sank heavily in his chair. "Now... what are we going to do about my diamonds?" He glanced toward the door, where an armed security detail had appeared at some point during this whole exchange. "Shall I summon the officer over here to solve the problem?"

"Yes!" I answered, indignation burning inside me.

"Dawn..." Cole locked his gaze on mine and gave his head a firm shake. "You don't want to do that. Trust me."

"But—"

"Let's work this out ourselves," Cole said calmly, then turned to Mason. "What would you suggest?"

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