The Haunted Dungeon Ch. 04

Throughout this exchange, I refused to look at Tony. I couldn't. "For now, let's get back to business. Room 11 would be the archetypal Honeymoon Suite, designed around a ring or collar theme. Very symbolic. Perfect for honeymooners or post-collaring ceremonies."

I looked up, catching Michelle's eye. The next room would be an emotional one for all of the ghosts. "Room 12 would be called the Jazz Suite. An homage to all of you. Photographs of each of you, if they exist, on the walls. Sketches or paintings, if they don't. Art deco design elements." Tears poured from the eyes of the six female ghosts, and even Auguste appeared a bit misty.

Physically, I tore my eyes away from their overwhelming approval. To Tony, whose expression was unreadable. "If you approve, Sir. I mean, Mr. Damon," I added hastily.

For a moment, the aloof and distant Mr. Damon held sway. But, then, the devilry appeared in his eyes. "I think it's perfect, Cinderella. Would you like to see what we've done with the ballroom?"

He offered me his hand, and I rested mine in his. With a gentle squeeze, he guided me downstairs to the completed ballroom. On the way, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tony didn't elaborate—but, then, he didn't have to. "Because I was scared. I wasn't kidding when I said I still am. Because I'm afraid to say out loud what I am—or even truly admit it to myself. Being a submissive is one thing; being a m-masochist is quite another," I finished, stumbling over the key word.

"I didn't realize that was why," he murmured into my ear as we walked into the newly completed ballroom.

It was breathtaking and just as I had imagined it. Wrapping my arms around him, I squealed, "It's wonderful, Sir! Tony...Mr. Damon, I mean." Awkwardly, I stepped away and wrapped my arms around myself.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I forgot myself."

Tony pulled me in for another hug. "It's okay, Saffy. You are going to be here several months. And I'd rather things not be uncomfortable around each other."

He cleared his throat. "You and I share a chemistry that I've never had with another submissive. If you are okay with it, I'd like these next several months to be an opportunity to explore that chemistry, that passion, safely. No pressure, and completely separate from your work here. No strings."

I hesitated, fear of what I wanted to be to him and with him holding me back. "Nothing you would safeword with. Just light training to prepare you for a relationship with someone someday. C'mon, Cinderella."

"Okay. As long as it doesn't involve the dungeon."

Tony's lips separated in a toothy grin. "Of course not, Cinderella."

"Shall we shake on it, then?"

His head bent, and I felt the warm softness of his lips claiming mine in a searing kiss. Several moments later, he released me to say against my lips, "accidentally" brushing his lips with mine, "Isn't this so much better than a handshake, Cinderella?"

My answer was a deeply passionate kiss.

********

So, that's how we were able to have a very fulfilling working—and playing—relationship over the next nine months.

The early months were spent gathering the decorating materials in order to begin renovating. Twelve teams of craftsmen worked to put together Tony's vision—and mine, I always remembered with a pang.

Our nights were spent learning the intimate secrets of the other's body. I signed a temporary contract as his submissive, defining rules and limits, of which pain and the dungeon were included.

Pete witnessed the contract with a knowing smirk on his face. Neither Tony nor I had the heart to tell him—or the ghosts—that it was only temporary.

As the rooms finished, we "tested them out," the Marquis Suite and the Victorian Suite very carefully.

About two weeks before the rooms were slated to be finished, I received a call from Tamara. The repository was to host an exhibit of early editions of the Marquis de Sade's writings. It was to be my first exhibit to curate by myself.

Tony's expression as I told him was unreadable. Finally, after several moments of stony silence, he grated out, "I thought you were going to be here for opening weekend."

"Everything is pretty much on autopilot now, anyway. I can drive Pete back to Philly this weekend when I head up north. He has to meet with that web design firm to pick out a designer for the website."

"Fine." His single word response.

********

The next three days as I readied for a return trip home were a return to the awkwardness Tony had bestowed upon me at my arrival.

But I knew there was another reason for my leaving, a secret one. I had fallen in love with him. And I was pretty sure he didn't feel the same.

On the day before my departure, the weather matched my mood. Leaden gray skies threatened torrential downpours on the morrow.

There was one thing I wanted to do before I left. I knew Tony had work to do in the dungeon that morning, and I wanted to join him there.

As his submissive.

As his masochist.

One last time.

Gingerly, I made my way down the steps. I had already stripped and was ready for him. Stopping at the threshold, I realized Tony was arguing with Auguste.

"Excuse me," my whisper echoed like a shout in the chamber.

Tony turned, his expression thunderous, furious. "What is it, Miss Gray?"

His eyes darted down, taking in my naked body.

"I'm here to try out the dungeon again. To see if I'm ready."

He stared at me uncomprehendingly for several seconds. Then, "No."

"No?" Surely, I heard him wrong.

"No, Miss Gray. Go back to the safe world of Boston and your sterile library. Where you can hide from yourself and me and who you really are."

It was as if his vitriol had struck me the full force of a blow across my cheek.

"Tony? Sir?" I wheedled. "For today. In here. No limits."

He shook his head "no" again, but he seemed to be softening.

"Please."

He relented. "Against that wall. Prepare to wear the shackles. No holds barred, Cinderella. Are you sure you don't want to safeword now?"

I padded over to the wall and turned, facing him. "No safewording. I want to see how much I can take."

Hands as hard as the iron he tethered me with attached me to the wall. He nodded. "Who are you?"

"Saffron Gray," my voice slightly shook.

"What are you?" he demanded as he picked up a flogger, the tails thick leather an inch wide. I hesitated, and he struck the flogger across both breasts. "What are you?" he repeated.

I yelped. "A submissive, Sir." My pussy juices lingered at my lips.

The flogger slapped a burning imprint on my belly. I began to drip. "What are you, pet?"

"A submissive." Another thwack. This time across my thigh—the right.

"Whose submissive, pet?"

"Yours, Sir," I cried out, hoping that answer would appease him.

His response was to flick the flogger against my breasts again, catching my right nipple and forcing a howl from me. "Now, let's continue. What are you, pet? And keep in mind, I can see and smell your sweet elixir dripping so enticingly down your thighs from the kiss of the flogger. It's time to admit what you are. Or safeword."

I glared balefully at him. Yes, I had known what he wanted me to say, to admit. "I'm a painslut, Sir! Your painslut, okay, Sir!? Is that what you wanted?" I screamed the last at him as tears poured from my eyes.

"Perfect, my little masochist." With that, he dropped the flogger and pulled out a familiar chain that glinted in the light. "Now, you are ready to feel its triple bite."

I gulped, hissing as the first two bit down on my nipples. That pinching was bearable. The pain that centered on my slick clit almost made me safeword. Instead, it made me orgasm, all over his fingers.

Standing, Tony looked in my eyes and slowly lapped his fingers clean. Then, he took my lips in an all-consuming kiss, biting down on my lower lip to encourage my mouth to open. When my lips parted, he growled, his tongue sliding in to share my taste with me.

All the while, his fingers curled and tugged on the chain, eliciting little wheezing gasps from me.

He tore his lips from mine and gave the chain a solid yank. "Please, Sir," I blubbered.

"Please, what, my pain pet?"

"Please fuck me, Sir," came my mindless, needy response.

"Glad to oblige. Especially since you so politely said 'please,'" he grunted as he pulled out his cock, thrusting into me balls deep.

This was not the slow build-up of passion we had shared the past several months. This was raw. Bestial. Grinding. Sweating. Fucking. And I craved every second of it.

Just as he was going to cum, he removed the clamps from my nipples, and the rush of blood flow back to my sensitive flesh almost forced an orgasm from me. "Saffy, when I remove the clamp on your clit, you are going to orgasm and squeeze my cock deep within you. Understand?"

He gently pulled the clamp off, and my orgasm ripped through me. My pussy, already fluttering in pleasure, clenched, gulping, around his cock in a vise grip.

His jizz shot deep within me, and I heard him shout, "Saffy!" For several minutes afterward, he held me to him, a gentle anchor after being buffeted by waves of carnality only minutes earlier.

Gradually, by degrees, I realized he had removed my shackles. Just as I realized that, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me upstairs and then upstairs again to the guest rooms.

He carried me all the way down the hall, stopping outside Room 11. The Honeymoon Suite.

Tenderly, he deposited me on the bed covered with the double wedding ring quilt.

"Why are we here, Tony?"

Reaching under the bed, he took out two boxes. One was flat, shiny black, roughly the size of my hand with my fingers splayed. The other was a ring box.

"Tony?" I asked, my voice rising a bit in panic.

He took both his hands within mine, kneeling before me. "Saffy, when I arranged for you to have the job here, I did have an ulterior motive. Yes, I wanted to collaborate with you on the business, but I also wanted you. All of you. Permanently. As my wife and my sub. I love you, Cinderella."

With one hand, he reached for the ring box. I barely looked at the box, in so much shock from my dreams coming true. I nodded, sniffling mistily. "Yes, Tony, I love you so much."

He slid the ring on my trembling hand, kissing the finger above and below where the ring rested.

Then, he opened the box. "We will need to restructure the contract, pet. This one will be scrubbed of all mention of temporary."

I glanced inside the box. A circlet of the same platinum nestled within the box. I lifted my hair, and he secured it around my neck, locking it with the key.

"I accept your collar with all it implies. I am your pet. Your sub. Your painslut. Your Saffy."

The kiss he gave to my lips revealed the same love I felt and saw in his eyes.

********

What's going to happen when Pete brings the Philadelphia web designer to Chenier House to work? Find out soon!