Proserpina
A light came on and I blinked in surprise.
I was in a large room. The décor was strange, unlike anything I had ever seen before.
The only normal furniture in the room seemed to be a large bed with a shiny, gaudy red sheet, and a bedpost with gleaming handcuffs dangling from both ends. Strategically placed mirrors that seemed to reflect the dim light coming from the lights created a strange effect. It was like being in a dungeon. A large cage in the center dominated the room and there was a strange cross as well, enormous and somehow threatening.
There was some sort of odd wooden frame erected on one wall and a wooden horse on one side that was cushioned in crimson velvet.
And on one side...was that a large paddle???
The room was decorated in rich red brocade hangings, but it was the assortment of whips and strange torture implements that caught my attention.
Instruments of bondage.
Slowly, the truth dawned on me, and I took a step back in horror.
BDSM?
In Lucien's club?
***
As I turned to get as far away from the place as possible, a man stepped out from the shadows.
"Jazz?" I said it in surprise.
"Yeah, sweetie, good ol' Jazz", he said, sarcastically. He sounded ugly and I moved back in alarm. He was high and I could make out the sickly sweet smell of some drug.
But there was more of a surprise ahead of me. Thomas Harding emerged from the darkness, positioning himself before the door; effectively blocking my way out.
I turned around in panic.
What was happening?
Thomas took a step forward, tugging off his dinner jacket, and I recoiled in fear.
I stepped back.
He came closer, unbuttoning his shirt, the hate in his voice making me recoil in alarm.
"You scheming b****. Too good for the likes of poor old Thomas, eh?", slamming his fist down on a table nearby as he shouted,
"YOU s*ut. You and your damned b*stards." he seethed.
He's crazy, I thought wildly, turning to flee.
When I turned to get away from him, I found Jazz behind me, a sly, unpleasant smile on his florid face.
Thomas moved towards me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around roughly.
"Always a prissy cu*t, parading herself, and then you f*ck the Boss and no one else will do, eh? You were too good for the rest of us, eh? Only a 40-year-old man's cock would suit your p*ssy?? Now you'll find out what a couple of young studs can do to your pretty c*nt, 'you sl*t!"
Uncomprehendingly, I stared at him in shock, and then a full-blown attack of panic seemed to engulf me. There was no place to run in this claustrophobic little hole.
The room was soundproof, as was obvious from the walls that were padded.
Whipping my head around, I faced Thomas.
I could see the lewd gleam in his greedy little eyes.
Thomas laughed and gripped my chin as Jazz held me, holding my arms and pulling me flush against his chest.
With growing horror, I felt Jazz's hard bulge pressing into my lower back through his trousers, and I began to struggle in earnest, disgusted and furious.
But the hands holding me tightened, and I cried out in pain.
"Why are you doing this, Thomas?" I begged, struggling in Jazz's vice-like grip.
"I..."
He grabbed my hair, jerking me close, as I writhed frantically, struggling to free myself. My breasts were crushed against his chest as he moved closer.
His breath stank of alcohol, and I turned my face away desperately.
"When Lucien finds you, he'll..." I spat at him.
Thomas held my throat in a tight grip and I felt as though I was choking.
"If you hadn't sashayed in, you wh*re, my mother would have become Mrs. Delano."
Panic-stricken, I realized I had been lured into a trap.
***
Lucien turned, narrow-eyed as a familiar perfume wafted up to him.
He raised his eyebrows coldly as the much-married Patricia Harding, Thomas's mother, snuggled up to him, pulling his face down towards hers and kissing him wetly on his mouth. Her sister sashayed up and clung to his other arm, moaning. Absently, he caressed her behind, thinking how Proserpina's soft, large a*se felt so much more wholesome and inviting, supple yet soft, with nothing artificial about her lush body.
Patricia ignored his companions who looked on, though Shark leered with his usual leery expression. They were used to women throwing themselves at Lucien Delano for he was the darkly brooding, enigmatic member of their trio and a perfect Catch as the Society pages trilled.
The announcement of his wedding to the innocent-looking girl, who was nearly half his age, had come as a surprise to them as well. But they had noticed how besotted he seemed to be over the young woman who appeared to be alternately terrified of him yet who obviously adored him.
Now the openly lascivious approach of an ex-love of Lucien's in such a public way intrigued Schwartz who was standing in the group, smiling. Some of the others felt a wave of disgust and pity for the aging woman with her surgically enhanced face who was rubbing herself against Lucien, desperate in her overtures.
She had been drinking, yes, but there was an expression of malevolent triumph that made Lucien frown.
"Looks like you should have settled for someone closer to your age, Big Boy," she purred, her hand moving suggestively over his body to his crotch.
Lucien's gaze sharpened. He gripped her hand and held it against her bottom. His drink-fueled brain was back in jealous mode again as he thrust her away roughly and turned to look at where he had left Proserpina.
She had been standing, looking miserable and ill at ease, but he had been too furious with her for attracting so much unwanted attention. The sane part of him knew that it was foolish and wrong to blame her; she could not help the natural aura of sexuality she carried with her. It was a kind of dangerous beauty that she had, this young woman of his; a beauty that lured men to her. Her winning smile, her swaying walk, and her well-rounded body that seemed to entice every man.
He had been even more enraged when he had overheard some men talking about her physical attributes in a coarse and vulgar way, suggesting that he, Lucien, would not be able to satisfy her sexually in bed.
That had been when he had left her alone. He had begun to walk around, joining his friends while she hung back, her soft mouth turned down in misery.
Now he swung his gaze around the room, his anger increasing manifold.
"I saw her sneaking away," whispered the odious woman, clinging to his shoulder, reaching up to lick his cheek, and he growled in anger.
"Go on, let her have some fun with some young boys. In the Red Room of all places!"
The woman tittered with laughter, evil, and triumphant.
"Let's see if you and I can catch a little excitement, Lucien." She pouted.
Lucien thrust her away forcefully.
The blood was pounding in his head and he strode towards the restricted entry to the private room at the other end of the Club.
The one exclusively used by the Gentlemen, as Shark had said when they created the wing.
She couldn't wait, eh? He thought savagely as he strode away, ignoring his friend James Schwartz, who looked worried and bewildered.
"When I find the little sl*t..." he thought as he walked determinedly towards the room they called the Red Room, "I'll..."