Demon Lush

DEMON LUSH

By

Erin Dameron-Hill

 © copyright by Erin Dameron-Hill, October 2011

Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, October 2011

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

As his fingers kneaded into my back I replied, “Okay.”

The word sounded distant and unknown.  It was not my voice that was speaking.  It came from me, but it wasn’t me at all.

My legs were shaking as I found the edges of my black lace thong.  With unsteady hands I pulled them down and allowed them to fall on the floor.  The room seemed to release an exacerbated hush, as if it was alive and demanded this from me, as well.

I looked back into his seductive eyes that were both enigmatic and erotic.  I was helpless in his gaze, helpless in his arms.  Whatever he wanted from me, he could have.  Willingly.  Wantonly.

I stood stiff as his salacious fingers caressed my forearm.  He lightly padded across my skin sending wave after wave of tingles down my spine.  His touch was both frightening and exciting.  I could barely breathe with every touch, kiss, and gentle embrace.  I could just barely hear the roar of the crowd moaning with each released breath from me and I didn’t mind that I was putting on a show.  All that mattered was the man standing in front of me, whispering sweet-nothings, entrancing me with his eyes.  He was unlike any man I had ever met.  He was a stranger in a dark alley.  He was a nightmare that elicited exhilaration and delight.  He was the man who could raise me from the emotional dead.

The man brushed back his long, golden locks across his thick shoulder and cocked his head gently to the side.  His jaw must have been chiseled from granite.  I had never seen a jaw line so sharp and linear.  He was almost too perfect as if this face was an illusion and nothing more.  Everything about him, from his walk to his touch, was quite new to me.  Perhaps I was dreaming.  I didn’t even know his name.  Did I want to?

The man then snaked a hand around my waist and instructed, “Don’t you dare make a sound.”

* * * *

“For disobeying me, I will have to punish you,” he said with a voice so decadently rich I thought I had just gained ten pounds.  I didn’t know how I had disobeyed him, perhaps the clicking of my heels was sound enough for him.  I didn’t want to be punished, but I didn’t mind if he meted out justice.  He could be as rough with me as he wanted.  He was the master.  I was merely his slave.  I was butter in his warm hold and whichever way he wanted to spread me would finally enliven me.

He unbuckled his black leather studded belt and ripped it from the hoops.  I was to be spanked.  That was my punishment.  The belt slithered between his hands making the hairs on my arms stand on end.  He wrapped the belt around my waist and pulled me hard against him, taking my breath away.  His muscles were so firm it was like holding onto a wall and even though he was warm, something about him felt very cold.

I stood frozen as inch by painstaking inch, he slid the thick leather strap down the curve of my back and rested it on my upper thighs, just below my ass.   With his knee, he pushed my legs wide open and I slightly wobbled.  He was holding me up with the belt otherwise I would have fallen.  I looked like a pathetic puppet as he pulled the strings and pushed me where he wanted me to be.

My eyes managed to glance past him, to take in the room.  All eyes were upon me, hands upon themselves.  I was their pornography.  I was their fantasy.  The thought made me even more nervous and frightened than before, forcing my legs to tremble violently and heels to tap loudly on the tiles.

The man just stared at me and forced his glare deeper into my eyes.  With every passing moment of his lingering gaze, I became more relaxed.  He was like a warm swimming pool that I would be allowed to rest in.  There wasn’t any danger to be found here, just the dark shadow hiding in the murky water.

I ignored the shadow and returned his stare like a zombie hungry for something wicked.  He was going to give me a new life.  I was going to become new.  I just needed to get through orientation.

He cinched the ends of the belt around the bend of his knee and cupped my bare bottom.  His legs were stabbing painfully in my own as I straddled him.  I don’t know how he could stand with this much weight on him, but he was so strong and powerful that I dismissed the thought.  After all, I shouldn’t be thinking, I should be feeling.

His knee jerked against my bare pelvis and began to sway with the music that had returned.  For several moments I hadn’t heard anything but the pounding of his heart and now that the music was back, I could once again move.  I gently rode his knee, brushing back and forth on him, feeling wetness slide down his leathery pants.

“That’s a good little angel,” he said, spitting out the word ‘angel’ like it was a curse word, a word to insult instead of compliment.