Strange Doors That We

Never Close Again

I told Helen and Linae the news. The earliest train I could get was early afternoon, so I wandered the streets of York for a few hours before it came. The narrow, cobblestoned streets full of charming little shops still seemed more like something from a fantasy book than a real place to me, but I couldn't really concentrate. All I could think about was James.

Damon texted me throughout the day, winding me up even more. Especially when my train was late. I'll pick you up at King's Cross, he messaged. We'll need to go directly to the club. I don't suppose you have anything suitable to wear with you.

While on the train I ended up texting him a complete list of everything I had with me, to which he replied: Perhaps you'll have to go naked...

And then a bit later: With no time to prepare you, V. has an ingenious idea for your debut.

He said nothing about what the ingenious idea was, though, which I'm sure was intended to key me up. Knowing that didn't keep me from getting keyed up, either.

He teased me with a few other texts, too, like: The director makes his own floggers and flails. When he approved you he told me he was making one especially to use on you himself.

In other words, I was a nervous wreck by the time I arrived in London. I tried to imagine how the reunion with James would go. Maybe they would put me to serving drinks, which was something I was certainly qualified to do. I would be carrying a tray with a glass of whiskey to a man seated in the parlor, talking politics. He would look up to accept the glass, see me and...?

Or maybe I would be lined up with the other trainees. I remembered the pony players from the party in York and imagined us lined up like horses waiting for riders, each one tethered to a post, as club members would come by and look us over. And then along would come one tall, well-dressed man, whose eyes would light up in delight and relief when he saw me...

The party was probably going to be nothing like that, but I couldn't stop myself from hoping and dreaming.

At King's Cross, Damon was waiting on the other side of the turnstiles, as if taking no chances on us missing each other. He swept me into a kiss that bent me back before I even realized what he was doing.

"What-?"

"Sh. Making it look good for the constables," he said into my ear, as he righted me and began walking quickly, one arm around my shoulders, toward the exit.

"Are you kidding me? Damon-"

"Ah ah, it's Mr. George, remember?"

Shit. "Yes, Mr. George."

"Tsk-tsk, and I'll have to punish you for that."

"Of course you will," I said, somewhat sarcastically, "Mr. George."

He opened the back door of a limousine at the curb and then followed me in. I didn't get a look at the driver, but the car began to move and then my attention was on other things.

"I enjoy your wit and playfulness," he said, "but some club members will find it too irreverent. Others will think it is an invitation to punish you. Is it, Karina? Are you doing it to provoke me?"

"I'm not. You didn't say I shouldn't be sarcastic."

"I shouldn't have to, if you have any instincts about how to act around authority. But as I said, there's no time to train you more properly before tonight. Next week you can start lessons with Vanette. For tonight, maybe we'll just gag you." He drummed his fingers against the ledge of the window. "I assume you're as eager to get this resolved as I am."

"If you are thinking about putting it off, with all due respect, no way." I wasn't going to miss this chance after coming so close.

He nodded. "I figured you'd feel that way. I want it resolved quickly. Now get your trousers off. You have a punishment coming."

"Right now, Mr. George?"

"Yes, right now, and expressing reluctance by asking bogus questions is another no-no." He shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

Meanwhile, I shimmied out of my jeans, thinking how familiar this was, stripping in the back of a moving limousine, and yet so totally different because I didn't have the feelings for Damon I had for James.

He gestured to his lap and I hesitated, not sure what he wanted. "At the risk of asking a bogus question, sir, I'm not sure how you want me or what that gesture means."

"Across my lap, your bare arse up, please," he said with a wicked smile. "And now, you see, that was an appropriate question, respectfully asked."

I crawled across him so that my ass was in the air at the edge of his lap. His hand was warm and dry as he rubbed circles against my cheeks.

"What's the proper way to display reluctance?" I asked.

"I'll show you later. Asking questions in the middle of your punishment is also not correct, Karina."

"I'm sorry, Mr. George."

"No, you're not. But you will be when I'm done."

I nearly opened my mouth to ask if this was going to be like the caning and if I should keep the count, then thought, Duh, Karina. He said no questions right now. James never told me not to ask questions. In fact, he'd told me I should. I pressed my lips together, waiting to find out how this was going to go. If there was a pause after the first swat, I thought, then I could give the count of one like in a caning.

There was no pause. He started to spank me with brisk slaps of his hand on my backside, several on one cheek before moving to the other. The rhythm was quick and steady, but where his hand was going to fall I couldn't predict. As he moved around my ass and down my thighs, the slaps were getting heavier and harder the longer it went on. It wasn't long before I was yelping, kicking my legs involuntarily on each heavy blow, as if I could launch myself off his lap to freedom. His other hand slid warm and solid against the back of my neck, holding me in place.

And still the spanking continued. The driver was probably used to hearing all kinds of noises from the backseat, but I wondered what it sounded like to him anyway.

When Damon stopped, we were both out of breath, and I coughed a few times, trying to catch mine.

The next thing I knew, Damon's hand was in my face. I looked at it, his palm as swollen and red as my buttocks felt.

"Kiss it and say you're sorry," he said.

Oh. I kissed his palm and it was scalding hot. He ran it through my hair, like he was petting a cat, and I remembered to say, "I'm sorry, Mr. George, for getting your name wrong."

"That's better." He hauled me off his lap and onto the leather seat, which felt cold against my scalding-hot ass cheeks. "Take off the rest of your clothes."

"Yes, Mr. George." My voice was breathy, not in a sultry way, but more like I'd run up a flight of stairs. He smiled at me like he found it sexy, though. I slipped out of my shirt, wondering what he was going to make me wear.

But now that I was completely naked, he ignored me, looking through the heavily tinted window with a brooding expression on his face.

I looked out my own window, but couldn't really make out where we were or what we were passing. The air-conditioning in the car was chilly, and the sweat I'd broken into during the spanking cooled down fast. I crossed my arms.

Without looking at me, he said, "Don't do that."

"Cross my arms? Sir?"

"A sex slave should never make herself less available to her master," he snapped. "She should always be making herself more available to him."

I slowly straightened my arms as I cleared my throat. "Forgive me if I'm incorrect, Mr. George, but I wasn't under the impression that you were my master."

He shook his head as if to clear it, then looked at me. "Of course not. Not yet, anyway." He moistened his lips with his tongue. "And you're not a sex slave. You're a club trainee. But if I have my way, Karina, you'll not only be my sex slave, you'll beg to be."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

"Spread your legs. Show me," he said.

Remembering how James had liked me to do so, I brought my feet up onto the seat, then let my knees fall apart.

Damon ran a finger lightly down the inside of my thigh, then upward between my folds, spreading my own natural wetness over my clit. He massaged it with two fingers, moving in a circle. "The fact that you can get this wet from a spanking, ngh." He grunted. "It's truly difficult not to fuck the living daylights out of you. But I shan't. Not until you've given up on this loser."

He spanked me on the clit then, with much lighter slaps than on my ass; these made me yelp but also thrust my hips up into each swat.

"Greedy girl," he said as he pulled his hand back. "Could you come from that?"

"I don't know, Mr. George." I was so aroused the entire area between my legs felt inflamed.

"Perhaps later we'll find out if you can. Your masochistic streak is very intriguing." He looked out the window again. "All right. Time for a blindfold."

"But I already know where the club is..." I said, confused.

"Who says this is to hide anything from you?" he said with a grin. "Maybe I merely like you helpless."

"Whatever you wish, Mr. George."

He grinned and slipped the tie from his neck, then wrapped it around my eyes.

A short time later I felt the car come to a stop and heard him hop out before the driver could open his door. My door opened and I heard Damon's voice. "Reach out for my hand and I'll guide you."

I stood carefully. The floor felt like concrete and it sounded like we were indoors. Some kind of garage. They wouldn't risk anyone seeing a naked woman walking up to the front door, I guessed.

The air in the garage was cool against my bare skin, and Damon pulled me gently by my hand. "Forward, forward. Now step up."

I stepped up onto carpet. We were in a hallway now. He led me into a room and closed the door.

I jumped at Vanette's voice. "Is that really necessary?"

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Vanette," Damon said as he lifted the tie off my eyes.

I saw I was in what looked like a small bedroom. The early-evening sun filtered through diaphanous white curtains onto a twin bed. Several implements sat on the coverlet, leather, metal, and rubber.

Damon looked them over. "She's not voice trained at all," he said. "Have we got a gag that matches this?"

Vanette frowned. Today she was in a black cocktail dress with gray piping, her hair in a bun and her feet in strappy black and gray shoes. "If we're making her other orifices unavailable, don't you think we might need to leave her mouth free for use?" She turned to me. "If you can't abide by a gag order for one night, then we certainly can't have you here."

"I can only try my best, Vanette."

To my surprise, she smiled at me. "Your best is what I want. All right then. Once you leave this room, you will not speak. If you are in distress or need help, the one word you may use is Mayday. That will bring a member of the staff straightaway." She glanced at the slim watch on her wrist. "Your role tonight will be that of new girl. You won't have to do anything specific like serving tea. Everyone will want to admire you and try you out. I regret I won't be able to supervise you myself tonight as my attention is required on another matter. In fact, I must go." To Damon she said, gesturing to the stuff on the bed, "I trust you can manage this?"

"I am certain I can."

"Once it locks, only I can open it," she reminded him. "So be sure you have it on right."

"I will."

They nodded to each other and Vanette left briskly.

I looked at the items on the bed. "I take it this was the brilliant idea of hers you texted me about?"

"Indeed. Have you ever worn a chastity belt before?"

"No, Mr. George."

His smile was gleeful. "A first. I do love firsts. Bend over, darling, and rest your upper body on the bed."

I did as he asked, and the next thing I felt was his fingers spreading my wetness around even more. Up to my anus and all around my lips. Then I felt something more rigid pushing against me.

"This is rubber," he said. "It's a two-pronged toy, with a small plug for your arse and a small dildo connected together. They'll obviously prevent any unauthorized entry."

He teased me with them, though. Instead of putting them into place immediately, he fucked me with one prong first, then the other, before using both at once, making me whine and moan. I was still aroused from all we'd done in the car, and this was a deeply pleasurable sensation. Being penetrated in both places at the same time sent ripples of pleasure all through my abdomen.

"You're enjoying that far too much," he said. "Stand up straight now, and spread your legs."

His hand kept the double-prong in place, and with the other he pulled the straps off the bed and wrapped them around me. This was the belt part of the chastity belt, with one strap that went around my waist and another shaped leather piece that fit between my legs. There was a small split here as well, although it held the prongs in place, exposing my clit and upper lips. The lock was on the side, at one hip, and he clicked it into place.

He pressed against me from behind, his hand snaking down my front until his fingertip could tickle my clit with light flickers. "You'll be allowed to come as many times as you want tonight," he said. "Unless the club member playing with you at any given time orders you not to. Do you understand? Different people will demand different things. You'll have to do your best to obey them."

"Yes, Mr. George."

"Vanette, that minx, she knows how tempting you are. The belt makes good sense. Any member who forgets your dictum won't be able to get too carried away. Myself included." He growled in frustration. "I want you more and more, Karina. It's going to drive me mad to see the others having their turns with you tonight."

I pressed back against him, aroused and needy, but glad of the belt myself. Would it drive James mad with desire to see me in the hands of someone else? Would many men make me come tonight?

Damon's finger slid over my clit and I bucked. "You...you said you like firsts, don't you? Mr. George?"

"Yes, I do."

"I've never come while wearing a chastity belt," I said. "That would be a first."

He chuckled into my ear, rubbing my clit harder for a few seconds, but then pulling his hand away as I writhed back against him, whimpering. "You've also never been tortured to the edge of orgasm again and again while wearing one either," he said. "I think I like that one better."

"Ahhh, sadist!" I cried as he did it again.