The Executioner

Cara was just sliding the tight-fitting gold spandex skirt down her hips when the doorbell rang. She gasped and looked at the clock. It was already 8:00! In a rush to answer the door, she grabbed the gold headpiece and armbands to her costume and slapped them on as she hurried down the stairs.

With a final glance in the mirror, she plumped and adjusted her breasts, making sure that they were displayed to full advantage in the skimpy Roman-style top she wore. Actually, they were dangerously close to overflowing. The thought of a wayward nipple making an appearance at the party made Cara's pulse quicken. Excited at the idea of a little "accidental" exhibitionism, she wore a flushed smile as she opened the door.

To a sight that was not at all what she was expecting. "Nickie?" Cara waited rather nervously for a response. The man who stood at her door was completely covered from head-to-toe in a black hooded cloak, cinched with a leather belt that had some strange silver rings attached to it. And he held a very real-looking medieval-style axe, which glinted wickedly in the porch light. Several long seconds ticked by. Then the man lifted a hand to push the hood back.

Cara sighed with relief and almost jumped into his arms. "Nickie, you scared me!" She eyed his costume thoughtfully. "What are you supposed to be? I thought you said to dress in Roman attire so we would match." She frowned, looking in confusion from her outfit to his. There was no way they matched now.

Nicolas tried to keep from laughing at the look on her face. He held a finger to her lips to quiet her. "Happy Birthday," he said in a low voice, as he pulled himself from her enthusiastic embrace.

Cara had always hated being born on Halloween, because her birthday was more often than not forgotten by even her closest friends, who were usually preoccupied with costume parties, hayrides, and haunted houses. It touched her that Nickie would remember, especially since they had only been dating for two months. She thought she may have mentioned her birthday in passing conversation during their second date, but she hadn't expected him to take much note of it. Most men, at least in her own not-so-vast experience, weren't that attentive to the little sentimental details that mattered to women.

Maybe Nickie was different. She felt the beginnings of a warm feeling for him start in her heart. And spread south from there.

Nicolas caught her chin and tipped her face upward so that she was staring directly into his eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Of course. You know I do, Nickie."

"I want to give you a very special birthday present, Cara. Something that I think you've been wanting for a very long time. But you have to promise me that you will do whatever I ask of you tonight, no matter what."

Cara paused, her heart racing. Somehow she knew that if she agreed, tonight was not going to be like any other Halloween--or birthday--she had ever had. She swallowed hard and nodded.

"You have to say it."

"I promise, Nickie. I promise to do whatever you ask." Cara shivered. "Umm, for tonight," she added, as an afterthought.

"Good. That's all I'm asking of you. For now." Nicolas let his gaze roam her body, taking in the sight of her luscious breasts, rounded hips, and ultra-long legs with the appreciation of a connoisseur. "I like this outfit. With a few minor alterations, you will match my Executioner perfectly." He held out a gift-wrapped package to her, which he seemed to have produced from somewhere beneath his cloak.

Cara ripped into it eagerly. A birthday present! But once she got the package open, she stared, dumbfounded, at the contents. A set of gold manacles and leg shackles, with a key, sat in a box lined with soft tissue paper. What? She looked up at Nickie with a wrinkled forehead.

Before she could say anything, Nicolas reached up and plucked the tiara-like headpiece from her head and threw it into the house behind her. "That won't do," he said. He ran his fingers through her waist-length jet-black hair, smoothing it out down her back. Then he picked up the manacles and shackles from the box and clamped them around her wrists and ankles. They felt heavy and cold against her skin.

Still kneeling at her feet, Nicolas held out his open palm toward her and waited. Cara knew what he wanted. The key. It was still in the box. He couldn't lock her up without it. She picked it up with a shaking hand, thoughts spinning. For a second, she couldn't bring herself to release the key.

Nicolas smiled at her. "Relax. It's just part of the costume, Cara," he said.

But it wasn't just a costume. Cara felt the tension in the air, recognized the heavy chains at her wrists and ankles as symbols of something more than just a bit whimsical Halloween fun. They had real locks on them, for goodness' sake!

Cara bit her lip. Did she really want to go through with this? On some level, she acknowledged that the idea of being held captive aroused her, but how well did she know Nicolas? She was conflicted. Thoughts whirled around in her head.

His voice snapped her out of her reverie. "Drop it, Cara," he commanded, a touch of irritation in his voice. The key fell into his palm.

###

Cara fell backward into the passenger's seat of Nicolas' car, chains jangling between her legs. She had never felt so out of control before. Although, looking back and forth between the two of them, she had to admit, their costumes definitely did match now. She would play the condemned woman to his Executioner. They might even win a prize for Best Couple's Costume.

But Cara wasn't worried about winning a prize anymore. She was worried about how she would manage to hobble around the party--or dance--with her legs shackled together. What would people think? What would they say? What could she possibly tell them to explain this?

Nicolas started the car and Cara glanced over at him, wondering what he was thinking. "Nickie, maybe this isn't such a--"

Nicolas cut her off. "For the rest of the night, you will use my full name, and speak only when I ask you a direct question. Is that understood?"

Cara's eyes grew wide. Were they to take their roles that seriously? The independent woman inside of her balked at the terse order. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. Although, to be honest, she didn't really mind it. It was kind of nice not to have to make any decisions, a welcome change from the fast-paced, high-powered business world that she spent most of her days immersed in. She bit back a retort and rested her head against the seat back cushion, closing her eyes for the rest of the ride.

###

"Cara, wake up. We're here."

Cara opened her eyes and saw that they had pulled into the parking garage of the hotel where the party was being held.

"Open your legs for me." Still sleepy but willing to obey, Cara parted her thighs. Over the course of the past two months, she had become accustomed to Nicolas' insatiable desire to touch and caress her. She hadn't minded accommodating him at all. Most of the men she had known in the past hadn't even known what foreplay was, much less showed any interest in it. At his request, she had made it a habit not to wear underwear whenever they were together.

Nicolas rubbed his thumb in gentle circles over her clit and dipped another finger inside of her. Cara realized, with some embarrassment, that she was already soaking wet. Apparently this whole Executioner scenario turned her on! She had a brief moment of worry that there might be a damp patch on the back of her skirt. She discarded the thought as unimportant, once Nicolas began working several fingers inside of her.

Cara squirmed and began thrusting her hips up to meet his fingers, wishing that it were his cock. She moaned and pulled her hands up to cup her breasts. The chain swayed back and forth with her movements. She felt a deep, clenching feeling beginning in the pit of her stomach, and began moving even more urgently.

When he knew that she was on the verge of orgasm, Nicolas removed his fingers from her pussy. Cara wanted to scream with frustration, but, remembering where they were, she also didn't want to draw attention to their car in the darkened garage. She thought briefly of touching herself to get some relief, but didn't think that Nicolas would be happy with that.

When she finally got her breathless body under control, she felt like cursing at him for denying her release. She opened her mouth to speak, and found it unexpectedly filled with his fingers. She gagged a little, tasting her own fluids on his skin. Seeing, after a moment, that he wasn't going to take them out, she closed her lips and sucked them. When they were clean, Nicolas removed them from her mouth. "Good girl. Now lean back and spread wider."

Cara wondered if he was going to go down on her in the car. That was a welcome thought. Glad she hadn't yelled at him for stopping earlier, she slid her seat back as far as it would go and reclined it, then spread her legs for him.

Nicolas leaned over her prone body and put his head between her legs. She couldn't see what he was doing, but lifted her hips expectantly, eager to feel his tongue. She felt a gentle pressure on both sides of her clit, and a strange coldness. Silently, she waited for more. But she realized with dismay there was no more to come when Nicolas sat up and pulled her skirt down, patting her thigh with satisfaction.

Cara was still feeling frustrated and confused when he came around to her side of the car and took her hand to help her stand up. But she decided to wait and see what would happen. Obviously, he had something planned for tonight. He had said it was something she would like. So she would do her best to just go with flow, and see what he had in store.

###

The dance floor wasn't crowded yet, since it was still only 9:30, but there were a lot of people at the party. Cara kept her head down and her eyes on the floor, as Nicolas had instructed her, but she could hear voices all around.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see some of the outrageous costumes that others had worn, and was glad to see that hers wasn't that out of place. She was also glad to see that she didn't recognize anyone here, so far. Though the jovial, otherworldly nature of the Halloween festivities made her feel more free to really get into the role that Nicolas wanted her to play, she still had some reservations. And she wasn't sure exactly how far Nicolas wanted her to go.

She followed behind him, watching the hem of his cloak, as they made their way to the bar. Nicolas ordered her a dry martini and held it to her lips to drink. She couldn't have held it herself if she had wanted to. When they had gotten out of the car earlier, he had chained her arms to her leg shackles with a length of chain that wasn't long enough for her to raise her hands higher than her waist. And if that wasn't enough, the entire contraption that held her was chained to the belt at his waist, which forced her to follow wherever he went, like a little dog.

Cara gulped the entire martini down at once, grateful for the extra boost of confidence. The liquid burned as it went down her throat, but left her with a warm, mellow feeling. She started swaying to the music, patiently waiting for him to speak to her. With her eyes on the floor, she remained blissfully unaware that her provocative outfit had attracted the attention of most of the males--and some of the females--in the room.

Nicolas tugged on her chain, alerting her to his forward movements. He held out a hand to steady her as she took short, quick steps forward. They were moving to a smaller room in the back of the main party area. Nicolas stepped through some heavy curtains, holding them back to allow her to pass.

Cara ducked and scooted under his arm into the room. She stopped about three feet beyond Nicolas and stared into the dimly-lit room, open-mouthed. There were candles everywhere. Millions of them. And there were several darkened corners, draped with black, web-like netting, which rustled every so often. They looked like spider's webs, but thicker. Halloween decorations? They weren't like any she had ever seen before.

She thought she heard soft noises coming from behind them, but couldn't make out anything distinct beyond the louder background sounds of wild wind, rain, and thunder that punctuated the muffled silence. But it wasn't raining outside. After a moment of puzzlement, Cara realized that they must have some kind of a CD playing the sounds as a backdrop to the whole scene.

Cara was so fascinated that she would have kept shuffling forward, except that the length of chain attaching her to Nicolas' belt ran out, yanking her to a jerky halt.

A muscular, rather beefy-looking man suddenly appeared, and held out an arm to prevent them from going any further. Nicolas quickly stepped forward and presented the man with a card, and they were allowed to pass. Cara followed Nicolas into a private alcove, unspoken questions filling her head.

Once inside, Nicolas turned to her. "Kneel, Cara."

Cara hesitated. This wasn't what she had expected at all.

"Kneel. I don't want to tell you again."

Unable to restrain herself, Cara had to speak. This was too much. Too new, too unexpected, too... everything.

"Nickie? Umm, I mean, Nicolas...what is all this? Is this some kind of freaky, sexual haunted house?" Cara gestured helplessly at the room around them with her manacled hands.

"Cara. Kneel!" Nicolas looked angry with her. Thunder crashed in the background, as if in emphasis to his words.

For an instant, seeing the fire in his eyes, Cara felt like bolting from the room. Fear started to take over her mind.

Then a blast of sensation hit her full between the legs, and--unable to control herself--she fell to her knees, gasping and shocked. Once she hit the floor, just as suddenly, the sensation ceased. What was that? She lifted her head and saw that Nicolas held a remote control in his hand.

"You promised to obey me, Cara. Did you forget?"

Cara said nothing, only halfway hearing his words. She was too busy wondering what Nicolas had attached to her clit while they were in the car. Her fingers itched to pull up her skirt and look at the instrument of torture--and pleasure--that he had fitted her with.

"You may answer me now." His voice held a hint of warning and he stared at her with a scowl. With flushed cheeks, Cara realized that she had been unconsciously wiggling her hips in a very suggestive manner, as she attempted to dislodge the device she now knew was there.

"Nicolas. I'm sorry."

"I'll forgive you this once. But I'll have to punish you if you do it again. Remember, you belong to me tonight. In all ways."

Cara shuddered as she contemplated exactly what that might mean. Although she harbored many secret fantasies about sexual submission and slavery, she had never told anyone about them. Especially not Nicolas, whom she had only known for a handful of weeks.

The idea of pursuing such a relationship was intoxicating to her, but the reality was terrifying. So instead, she had always contented herself to hole up in her room, reading scores of books on the subject, and visiting internet sites that specialized in the topics of domination and submission. She wondered what had made Nicolas think she would be suited to such a role?

"Put your hands flat on the floor in front of you." Nicolas' voice came from behind her, right at her ear. She jumped in surprise. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed him move.

His breath tickled her earlobe and made her breasts ache to be touched. She noticed that he had removed the chain connecting her wrists to her leg shackles. She desperately wanted to lean back against his body, but instead she bent forward and carefully put her palms on the ground.

"Further. Stretch forward as far as you can."

Cara walked her hands forward until her forehead was flat against the carpeting and she was lying prostrate in front of him. Like some virgin sacrifice, she thought ruefully.

Nicolas pushed Cara's skirt up over her hips, revealing her lush, naked ass to his gaze. Cara felt the cool air on her thighs and shifted uncomfortably. She wanted to lift her head, but his hand pressing firmly at the small of her back was a silent warning against any movement.

Nicolas' body moved to cover hers. His voice sounded again at her ear. She sighed happily as he whispered softly to her. "You like this, don't you?" His fingers were at her pussy, caressing, teasing. She sucked in a breath and pressed herself back onto his hand. "Mmmmm. That's right, Cara. Move for me. Show me how much you want it."

Nicolas watched her writhe for a few moments.

"Yes. Just like that. Ah, Cara mia, my sweet little slut."

Cara heard his voice, but it was as if her head were detached from her body, and she was floating in a distant fog. Almost mindless with need, she heard herself making unladylike grunting noises but couldn't seem to find the strength to hold them back. She began dragging her chest back and forth, rubbing her hard nipples against the carpeting through her flimsy top. She felt so aroused that she was sure there must be a puddle forming on the floor between her feet.

Nicolas nodded. She was ready. It was time to kick things up a notch. He moved his hand away from her and stood up. "No!" Her cry of disappointment turned into a sharp intake of breath, as he flipped the switch on the remote vibrator attached to her clit.

"Cara, I warned you about speaking without being asked."

Cara heard but didn't care anymore. She could barely focus on anything but the fire between her legs. She heard rustling behind her, and hoped fervently that Nicolas was going to fuck her. She needed to be filled.

Something brushed softly against her back, trailing down to the curve of her buttocks. It wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted Nicolas to increase the vibrations. She wanted...

"Quiet." Nicolas' voice crackled with authority.

Cara was startled. She hadn't realized that she'd been speaking aloud. Before she had much time to contemplate that, she heard a vicious cracking sound and felt a sharp sting across her cheeks. She jumped and cried out, trying to lift herself up. Nicolas put his boot against her back and pushed her back down.

"Tonight is not about what you want. It's about what you need. And I am giving it to you." He continued whipping her. She was sure that welts must be developing, and struggled against his foot, trying to get away. Her hips bounced from side to side, but she couldn't tell which direction the next blow would come from. She let out a mewling sound.

"Please, Nicolas..."

"Cara! You keep misbehaving. You're testing me, aren't you? Trying to see how far you can go. STOP talking."

When he had first started whipping her, the pleasurable vibrations in her clit had disappeared, and all she'd felt was the burning, stinging pain. And fear. But now, as he continued, and as he spoke to her in a stream of low, calming words, she felt her body beginning to respond in a different way.

Cara stopped squirming and struggled to keep from moving around as Nicolas brought down the whip again and again. She felt herself growing wetter with each stroke.

Nicolas varied the intervals between strokes. Sometimes he would wait several long seconds, teasing her with the wait. Sometimes there would be several quick strokes in succession. She tasted a salty wetness on her lips and realized she was crying.

"Good girl, Cara. I'm proud of you. You are making a great effort. Give in to the feelings. You don't have to be in control here. Leave everything to me. Let go."

Let go. His words seared into her consciousness. She realized that she didn't fear him anymore. Not really. He was doing this for her, not to her.