Unicorn Ch. 04

Adrian was behind her. The black haired boy sat on the back of the chair and touched Lauren's neck. She had pulled her wild, blonde hair up into a bun for the night and she did it for Adrian. His mouth on her neck sent a shudder down her spine and she lost all sense of reason. He said that her neck teased him and tonight, she wanted it bare to keep him in a heightened state.

Adrian wore a suit as well. It was blue, blue like his eyes and a white shirt that just made him seem almost otherworldly. He was pale, translucent, and Lauren decided he could be an angel or a beast from the woods. The suit was tailored for him. Lauren wondered whose idea it was to make the pants so ridiculously tight that he seemed to have his erection on display. He was maybe even more naked like this than he'd been when they first met. He was clearly a beast, dressing him took none of his savage, feline sexual energy away. He was just even more Adrian like this.

Lauren was impressed that so far, regardless of the change of scenery, Adrian was as relaxed as he was on the beach. Considering what this evening's activities were to be, Lauren was happy that her satyr was here to hold her hand. Tonight would be a first and Lauren was almost as nervous as she'd been the night she met the Prestons.

The four of them walked to the elevator and entered once the gilded doors opened. "My sweet girl," Mrs. Preston murmured and pursed her lips to blow Lauren a kiss. "And here I thought that you were heaven in a sundress."

All three of her lovers seemed to ease back against the mirrored wall and take her in, eye fucking her from head to toe. Lauren had chosen a black suit with a silver shirt underneath. The shirt was silk and rubbed her nipples into a frenzy. Mr. Preston insisted that she wear a tie and with the fedora and her hair tucked away, at first glance, she could be a boy. A boy with a deeply rouged mouth.

"A boy with the most beautiful, round bottom," Mr. Preston had insisted with a wicked gleam in his eye.

Now they all stared at Lauren and she felt the most feminine gush of hot juices in her tight pants as she thought of them all fucking this beautiful boy she'd become. Fucking her mercilessly, right here in the elevator in the posh Four Seasons.

Once they were inside the suite, Mr. Preston warned, "No fucking," with a solemn look on his face.

"Wait," Lauren grabbed his hand and laughed, "are you feeling alright?"

"It's more of a cautionary tale, little girl," he said with a sly grin.

"Yeah, Mark is the voice of experience," Mrs. Preston shook her head as she checked the mini fridge. "He hurt himself the last we went to La Maison."

Adrian was curious, "Hurt yourself how?"

Mr. Preston sat in the middle of the sofa. Behind him, the view of San Francisco was breathtaking. Lauren already knew that they weren't going to see much of the city. She could see the ocean and this view of the Pacific seemed completely different than the beach that night with Adrian. "Yes, I fucked too much," Mr. Preston chuckled and put his feet on the coffee table. "I took a Viagra that I didn't need and then I had to sit in an ice bath the next day."

"So what happens at the dungeon?" Lauren asked, just above a whisper.

"The dungeon is just part of it, honey," Mrs. Preston reassured Lauren. "Bourbon, anyone? Am I the only one drinking?"

Adrian joined her at the mini fridge and rubbed his hand up and down her back. "Is there any Jack Daniels in there?" he asked her softly, the sound of the black haired boy's hand on the queen gave Lauren chills. She wanted to watch him undress Mrs. Preston. In fact, Lauren wanted to sit in Mr. Preston's lap and feel what the sight of Adrian making love to his wife would do to the king.

But, Lauren remembered, no fucking until later.

"The dungeon is part of it but there's also a game room and lots of places to play. More private rooms for anything you'd rather do behind closed doors," Mr. Preston's voice was full of candlelight and mystery. Lauren could almost picture him in a private room with his pick of slaves. "There's really no way to describe it, you just have to be there," Mr. Preston said with a smile. "And I'm happy that I get to share it with my two ladies."

Mrs. Preston reminded him, "And Adrian," before she kissed Adrian on the cheek and left her scarlet lipstick mark there.

"And Adrian," Mr. Preston nodded and Lauren knew that in his mind he added, "the fuck boy."

***

La Maison du Ravissement wasn't a grand house. In fact, it was nothing like the mansion that Lauren had imagined. When the limo stopped on Delancey Street and she realized that they were surrounded by old, brick warehouses, she wondered if they weren't in the wrong place altogether.

"No worries, my love," Mr. Preston touched Lauren's chin. His fingers lingered on her flesh and Lauren knew that he regretted his own rule about no fucking. His eyes looked like he was seriously considering tossing the fedora aside and ripping her black suit off. "You'll understand once we're inside.

It was a gray door, the kind of large metal door that looked like slabs of meat might come in and out. The paint was chipped and scraped. It opened with the sound of raw metal hinges, a grating sound. Mr. Preston held the door and waved them inside.

The entry was gray with grated flooring and Lauren could see into the floor beneath them through the slats. It was black down there. There were bits of sawdust that shimmered in the layer of light that floated near the surface but nothing penetrated the dark. It was subterranean down there and Lauren felt the terror grip at her insides. It definitely looked like a dungeon. Lauren didn't want to go down in that cavern and she felt cold as she stared into the abyss.

"Straight ahead," Mrs. Preston pointed, "we're right on time."

They crossed the creaky ramp and Mr. Preston punched in a code on the box on the left hand side of the next entry. This door was almost two stories tall. It was a beautiful, gleaming chestnut wood with an old brass handle. It looked as out of place here as the first door did compared to her imagination.

There was an audible click and the wooden door slowly swung open. This was what Lauren had imagined, she thought as they crossed from the grated floor onto gleaming, parquet floors. The lights were low and the shadows danced on the wood paneled walls. The scent of flowers and candles filled the air. Beethoven played in the background and it felt as if they had suddenly stepped back in time. They could have just entered one of the old greystone mansions in the Gold Coast of Chicago.

"Mr. and Mrs. Preston," a man's voice interrupted Lauren's thoughts and she turned to see that the man's eyes were riveted on her. "It's so good to see you," he shook Mr. Preston's hand with both of his and then brought Mrs. Preston's fingers to his lips. He was clearly intimate with the Prestons and yet, he seemed somewhere else. The man had a thin, black mustache that brushed Mrs. Preston's pale fingers. Lauren felt a chill. He never broke eye contact with her nor she with him.

She couldn't look away, he was hypnotizing her with those eyes.

"And who is this creature from heaven?" The man finally reached out to Lauren with both hands. Rather than shake her hand, he placed both hands on her face and seemed to be cataloging everything about her. "You are French, non?" he asked. That was the source of the little accent, the little lilt in his voice on certain syllables. His native tongue must be French. She had wanted to take French in high school but her father had insisted that Spanish was much more practical. Little did he know.

"No, sir," she whispered. It felt right to address him as sir. Although he wasn't impressive in height or size, he didn't need to be. He commanded the space around him effortlessly.

"A truly sensuous, American woman!" he exclaimed and looked to the Prestons to confirm, as if he didn't believe it. "And so young. What is your name, my dear?" as he spoke, he drew even closer to hear her.

"Lauren," she answered. She inhaled the man's scent deeply. He smelled of pipe tobacco and the ocean air and maybe even the wood all around them. He smelled like damp sheets and a fire that had almost burned out. He smelled like creased and crumpled love letters found in an old box. He had gray hair at his temples but his face was unlined. He could have been ancient or he could have been Adrian's age. He seemed to be outside of time, immortal, as if he just watched the centuries roll by. "Lauren, welcome to La Maison du Ravissement," he said it grandly and with the perfect accent. "This is my house. I am Victor."

Lauren bit her lip and quickly made herself stop. He'd notice, with those hawk eyes that read the air, he'd know. He'd notice like he was noticing her shape and her face and memorizing the feel and the scent of Lauren. "It's nice to meet you, sir," she murmured although nice wasn't the correct word. It was something else altogether, more magic; like walking into the clearing where Adrian waited for her. But if Adrian were a satyr, then Victor was a wizard.

Lauren realized that there were others who approached them from the candlelit corridor. Four others actually, two girls and two boys. They all seemed to have the same ageless quality as Victor. Beautiful, pale, luminescent, they were mesmerizing and Lauren stared at them. The two females were both small. They were considerably shorter than Lauren

One had her long red hair pinned up with little pearls and diamonds and Lauren thought she looked like a mermaid. The other wore her black hair down and wild and perhaps had just been fucked. With that hair and the flush that traveled from her cheeks to her collar bones, it definitely seemed possible. Both girls wore a series of silver chains around their bodies. Their nipples were pierced and the chains passed through the hoops they wore there. The chains traveled up to the silver bands that encircled both of their necks. They each had a tiny padlock there. If one had the key, that person must be able to take their chains off and perhaps chain them up to something else. Maybe a bed or even a stone wall in a dungeon.

Well fuck.

That sent a chill down her spine. Lauren's eyes traveled down to looking at the girls between their legs. Beautiful and pale, their pussies were both bare and seemed to be painted a bit. Were they painted pink there as well as on their nipples, or was it just a trick of the light? Maybe it was all just the intoxicating pheromone filled presence of Victor, who brought the heat of sexual chemicals?

The girls had chains there also, two chains that looped around their hips and they chains were connected to two silver plugs. One inside their sex and then another inside their asshole. Lauren shuddered as she realized that the plugs kept them open and stretched, wet and so close to satisfaction but with no way to pleasure themselves. They were locked up and would be ravenous for touch, for the touch of anyone who had the key.

A quick glance at the two young men confirmed that here at La Maison, the male and female slaves were treated equally. The young men were both in chains and wore a plug in each of their rectums. The silver trap that their penises were both encircled with was also locked with its own, separate padlock. Lauren felt how warm her cheeks were as she imagined Victor had an enormous circle of keys tucked away somewhere and all the time in the world to lock and unlock whoever he chose for whatever reason he desired.

Victor made a gesture and the redhead moved behind Mrs. Preston and one of the boys took his place in Mr. Preston's shadow. Adrian was all the way to her left and the other slave took his elbow. The dark haired female must have been meant for Lauren and she felt heat between her legs as she imagined the beautiful girl, unlocked and open for Lauren to possess. The seam in her tight pants rode up between Lauren's lips and teased her body almost unmercifully.

With a nod, everyone seemed to know exactly what they were supposed to do. Victor took Lauren by the arm as if to reassure her that none of this was for her. "I hope you don't mind if I steal your Lauren for a bit," Victor said to the Prestons while he kept his eyes on Lauren.

"Just behave yourself, Victor," Mrs. Preston warned him.

Victor smiled and the gesture surely suggested that he intended to do anything but behave himself. But his mouth lied and he told her, "Of course, Sharon."

As Lauren's three companions were escorted in the opposite direction, she asked Victor, "Where are they going?"

Victor's hand was cool and his fingers were smooth as he held her hand as if they were very old friends instead of just having been introduced. "They're off to see the sights. You know," he shrugged as if to ask if he should go on. "With clients like the Prestons, I know what they want, so it's all arranged."

"Have you known them for a long time?" Lauren wanted to know.

His eyes held such enchantment that Lauren thought she might forget to breathe when she caught him staring once again. "I have," he smiled and that was the first time Lauren caught a glimpse of his age. His face creased across the forehead and cracked around his eyes. He was really an old man, Lauren decided. Under his spell, she just came closer. "You haven't known them long though, have you?" he asked as they walked in the opposite direction of the others. He sounded sure of the answer.

"Just since Memorial Day weekend," Lauren nodded. What was it about him that made her want to tell him everything? "I'm theirs for the summer."

"And summer is drawing to a close, n'est ce pas?" Victor wasn't asking a question, he knew. Victor led he her down the hallway into the scent. It was more flowery here, more potent and underneath the scent of flowers was the smell of sex. "What is the beautiful Lauren going to do after the summer?"

They'd never talked about it.

And now there was Adrian. Lauren didn't know what happened next or how he fit into anything but he just had to. Her heart hammered in her chest as she realized that summer was getting close to the end. "I'm not sure yet, sir," she said in a dry voice. Parched, nervous and suddenly she felt like her legs were very heavy.

"Well for a girl such as yourself, the world could be opened to you." Victor paused outside of a wooden door much like the one that opened up to this world from the warehouse. "If one just gave you the key," he said with sparkling eyes as he produced a ring of keys that was about the diameter of a grapefruit. Exactly what she had imagined and Lauren wondered if the man could read her thoughts.

He unlocked the door and waved her inside. It was an office and it was perfect. It was made to be aesthetically pleasing and it exuded comfort. There was a deep sofa, a plush, emerald green at one side of the room and a large, teakwood desk on the other side. There were stacks of books everywhere and they were on a dizzying variety of subjects. The pipe tobacco must belong to Victor, the rich, fruity scent hung in the air. "Have a seat," Victor indicated the couch and Lauren felt the hair on the back of her neck rise as she immediately responded. Obeyed was more like it. Nothing about Victor suggested anything dark or dominant but it was there, underneath it all.

"Are you thirsty? Can I get you anything?" Victor asked as he took off his black, pinstriped suit jacket and hung it on one of the hooks behind him. "Anything at all?"

Lauren shook her head no. She could feel the prickles of electricity everywhere on her body.

"What do you know about BDSM, Lauren?" Victor asked as he took a seat next to her on the couch. He was close, very close, closer than he should be if this was just a friendly chat. Lauren didn't know if she should panic or if there was any point in doing anything but watch as Victor removed her suit.

"Not much," she admitted and bit her bottom lip. There was no hiding her nervousness. Victor reached for his pipe on a side table and began to tamp down the contents.

He scowled at the pipe and reached for a remote control that was in front of him. When he pressed one of the buttons, a screen rose from inside a table across from the couch. Of course, Victor wouldn't want a television in view in this cozy office. Lauren knew that he'd consider it crass and distasteful most of the time but convenient when he wanted to see something. He pushed another button and gestured to the screen. "This is where Mark will spend his time," he said quietly, his magical eyes on Lauren and Lauren's eyes on the screen.

It looked like a boxing ring, or rather several boxing rings. There were areas cordoned off with mats on the floor. Inside each ring was a pair of men. All of the men were naked and looked to be coated with grease, that sheen had to be more than just sweat. Lauren melted forward in her seat as she kept her eyes on the screen. It was a crowd of shouting, jostling naked men and the crowd was obnoxious. Cat calls came from everywhere, taunts and whistles as the men watched the pairs in the rings.

The pairs fought. Each set of men wrestled or maybe boxed. It didn't look like there were any rules, it was hit or be hit. They swung at each other and gripped, they grunted and threw their weight into each other. There was the continual slap of bare flesh on bare flesh. The opponents would spit on the other, growl, and bite. It was all the unadulterated viciousness that Lauren never saw as a woman.

In the ring to the far left of the screen, one man had pinned another to the floor and the man on the bottom strained to get free. Lauren saw the cords on his neck pull tight as he tried with all of his might to escape the man over him, but to no avail. The winner showed his teeth in a barbaric manner, like a lion that grinned over a fresh kill. Then he reared up and the crowd began to chant as he showed his erection. It was deeply red and so hard it pounded on the man's belly. His cock looked angry and insistent and without warning or hesitation, it plunged inside the loser.

The loser's face contorted with such pain that Lauren gasped. "He's raping that man," Lauren whispered. She was shocked and her eyes were glued to the crime, she couldn't turn away and yet she didn't want to see.

"That's the game," Victor nodded and scowled at his pipe. "It's pure domination and the game room is our most popular attraction at La Maison."

"And Mr. Preston?" Lauren asked with a hard gulp.

"Has been known to stay until he needed assistance getting dressed," the man gave a wry smile. Victor lit the pipe with a match and Lauren watched the sparkle in his bewitching eyes as he held the flame.

Lauren couldn't help but smile. Of course he would, he'd fuck and rut and take whatever any other man had to dish out and regardless, win or lose, he'd enjoy it for the spectacle of it all.

"If you lose and you get raped, does that mean that you're submissive?" Lauren wondered as she watched the loser on the screen get fucked in quick, deep, punishing strokes.

"Answer that question and you'll know the secret of this house, my dear," Victor said as a trail of cherry scented smoke ribboned from his nostrils and mouth. He looked like a dragon and somehow, Lauren found that appropriate.

"What about Mrs. Preston?" Lauren asked and couldn't keep the smile that always came when she thought about the dark haired beauty.

He let out a dry laugh, "Now that is an easy one. I'm sure you'll understand when you see." He fiddled with the remote and the arena blinked out and another room was on the screen. It was a pool and there was a waterfall somewhere in the background. The sound of water mixed with the sound of lilting voices and sighs. Laughter, female laughter was sprinkled in here and there and he was right, Lauren thought as she watched two women in an embrace at the center of the pool. It was easy to tell what they were doing. They humped and writhed, they rubbed together and slipped apart. They slid together, breasts on breasts and hips and thighs sealed around the other.