Free The Dollhouse by Stacia Stone Page A

of my eyes and threatened to spill down my cheeks. “Please, no..sir.”
    “I will allow you to wear this clothing when you walk to the main room, but you will be completely nude for your punishment.” His voice was implacable and the reflection of his relentless gaze burned through me.
    I squeezed my eyes tight, willing myself to wake from the nightmare. Where had my attentive patron gone, the one who provided me with both pain and pleasure — the one who almost seemed to care?
    A coldness pervaded the room, making me shiver. It was as if the detached nature of his regard had sapped all of the life from me.
    The hand that wasn’t gently stroking my thigh moved from behind his back to reveal what he held in his hand. A long instrument curled in his fist. It looked like a braided rope made of thick leather that divided into smaller cords at the end. It swung ominously to and fro with each movement of his hand.
    “This is a cat of nine tails.” He twitched it sharply and the leather cords snapped through the air, close enough to my skin that I felt the air move harshly over me. “I won’t lie to you. It will hurt more than the belt.”
    I pulled away, finally turning to face him. His face was even more handsome than my memory had crafted it, as if I couldn’t quite comprehend his beauty until I was confronted by it.
    But the same face that haunted my dreams now stared at me, expressionless and cold as marble.
    “You can always walk away, of course. All of this still requires your consent.” The hand holding the whip reached out to stroke down my cheek, the softness of his skin juxtaposed against the harsh texture of the leather. “Submit and you will be rewarded.”
    I didn’t realize how far I had stepped back until my spine struck the glass, whispers of pain ran through me. “No!”
    “Leave if you wish.” His sardonic gesture indicated the door. “But you won’t ever be able to return.”
    I swallowed against the lump in my throat, more terrified than I had ever been before. He moved closer and my heart beat harder with each step that he took. I don’t know what I expected but his free hand only rose so his fingertips brushed across my lips.
    “Say yes.”
    My lips were dry and my throat sore. I wanted to scream or run as far away as I could until my legs collapsed underneath me. I hadn’t prepared myself for this and the situation was so foreign as to be surreal. But I wanted his hands on my skin — whether in reverence or anger didn’t matter. I wasn’t physically capable of walking away.
    “Yes.”

    * * *
    T here were more people in the entrance hall when I followed him out of the dressing room. I saw the flash of a familiar face as we walked towards the large living room. Cassie’s blonde curls bobbed in the crowd but I wasn’t given a chance to say hello. The steady click of Julian’s heels across the tile did not hesitate and neither did I.
    Someone called his name but he didn’t halt his inexorable progress forward, merely inclined his head at the greeting. I hurried to keep pace. It was as if I had tunnel vision and everything around me, save the shape of his back as he moved, had ceased to exist.
    A girl that I didn’t recognize, but a Fantasy Doll I quickly realized, reached out to brush my arm.
    “Good luck.”
    He stopped at a raised dais in the center of the room. It looked like a large letter X made out of dark wood that was at least a foot taller than me. Restraints made of thick nylon with Velcro straps were attached at each point. A spotlight shown on it, deliberately highlighting the apparatus of my degradation so that it was clear for everyone to see.
    I halted at the edge of the platform, terror preventing me from taking another step forward. I wasn’t able to do this. I couldn’t let him humiliate me like this in front of all of these people.
    Julian mounted the stage, his movements lithe like a cat’s. He turned back to face me.
    “Step up,” he ordered.
    I just