Cursed Within: A Banks Series

By K.L Stone

K. L. Stone lives in a small country town in Australia. She is happily married to her adoring husband and has two beautiful children, who have a passion for writing just as much as she does. She is from a screen-writing background and decided to give novel writing a try.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jun 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499008142

K.L Stone

K. L. Stone lives in a small country town on the outskirt of Newcastle, Australia, where she often loves her solitary identity as a screenwriter and author. An avid reader, she counts among her vices good wine, chocolate, the raising eye of her husband when she belts out a tune on karaoke, a mix of symphonic metal opera as a feed to her dark and twisted storylines, and a lazy Sunday afternoon watching trashy TV. She adores her three children and can already see a flare of imagination in her middle daughter, who, as she puts it, is “an old soul” with a wicked laugh.

Book preview

Prologue

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‘W ow! I’m pooped!’ Melena slumped against the yellow-striped concrete wall beside me. Heavy sweat ran down my neck from the day’s gruelling cheerleading practice. I inched away from the wall in case I became stuck t here.

She stretched out her long legs next to me and gently rested her head on my shoulder. ‘Work hard. Play harder.’ I squirted cold water into my mouth from my bottle. My throat felt dry, and my muscles were burning. I shook my head. It was worth it; we were going to nationals. Any niggling thoughts were thrown to the back of my mind.

‘So are you going to be home tonight?’ Melena mumbled softly.

‘If you need me there, then yes, I will be.’

She locked her fingers with mine and gripped my hand tightly.

‘I need you there, Selena… I really do.’

I clinched back. ‘Okay.’

‘Have you spoken to Christos?’

I nodded my head lazily. ‘Yes. Why?’

‘Has he said anything about Simon?’ she asked with a chuckle.

‘No. Why would he? Melena, what have you said?’

‘What?’ she scoffed.

‘Um. That the freak keeps leaving love letters in your locker.’

‘Jesus! Please tell me you didn’t. You know he has the temper of a speared bull.’

I pushed myself up angrily of the floor.

‘What? Someone else has to know that the creepy janitor is stalking you!’

‘Just leave it, okay, Melena?’ I said, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingers.

This is what she did—dramatise.

‘Hang on a sec! Why are you getting up in my face about it? Christos asked me why you’ve been acting so bitchy lately.’

‘Look, I said I’m handling it. It’s fine.’ I folded my arms angrily.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Clearly. Which is why Christos needed to know.’

‘What has Christos said to you?’

‘Nothing. Why? Should I know something?’

‘No… I was just curious about if he’d said anything.’

‘Well, he’s pissed about Simon. You should be thankful he’s on some yacht far, far away, or he would’ve been here by now to address this matter.’

‘Yeah, of course,’ I muttered, scuffing my white Chuck Taylor shoes on the hard stadium floor.

‘You’re lucky that Daddy or Darius don’t know about this little situation.’

‘I’m handling the situation,’ I retorted, raising my hand. ‘I will have a talk with Simon.’

Melena shook her head. ‘No. No. No. I’m not talking about that. I’m referring to Christos.’ ‘What?’ I gasped.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘What? You didn’t think I’d know? He couldn’t keep his eyes off you at the boathouse last weekend.’

‘I have no idea what you are on about,’ I said quickly.

‘Oh God!’ Melena whined loudly. ‘Do I have to spell it out? You. Banged. Christos.’

‘I didn’t!’ I did. All weekend.

She laughed loudly. ‘So the evening disappearances and extra-long jet ski rides had nothing to do with you being flesh deep in with the Greek god?’

‘He was… Well, you know…’ I stuttered.

‘A good fuck?’

‘Melena!’

‘Oh, stop being a goddam prude! I’m not stupid. We did share the same womb. I know when shit changes with you.’

‘Look, I just didn’t want to make this a big deal,’ I breathed.

‘Big deal,’ she scoffed.

‘We tell each other everything, Melena. No secrets! I just didn’t want this to be weird for you.’

‘Weird? Why would it be that?’

‘Because, technically, Christos is like family. Shit! I don’t know. This all has done my head in.’

Melena cocked her head. ‘Ah… Well, no. For one, he isn’t related by blood or through marriage. The only part that may pushing is the fact that our fathers were childhood best friends.’

‘And I’m Julian’s goddaughter,’ I said, frowning.

‘So? As if something wasn’t on the cars down the track.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What I mean is that Christos has always treated me like a sister, but with you… well… it was different. He paved a path for you to tread carefully and wham! As soon as you got boobs and booty, he was in for the kill!’

I laughed, shaking my head. ‘Oh God! I just love your smut mouth.’

‘So, no more secrets?’

‘No,’ I sighed. ‘No more secrets. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.’

She shrugged. ‘I’ll get over it. But I want details later tonight.’

‘Hell, no!’

‘Fine. I’ll just ask Christos then.’

I pointed my finger at her. ‘Don’t you dare!’

‘Well, spill! I told you with Chase,’ she said, extending her hand to me.

‘Do you really want to know?’ I took her hand into mine and pulled her up.

‘Word for word!’ She smiled wickedly.

‘Fine; tonight then. And another thing… you need to lay off the fries,’ I teased.

She playfully nudged me. ‘You need to lay off the Greek dick.’

‘Least I won’t get fat! What’s your excuse?’

‘God! I’m gonna miss that bitchy mouth of yours when you go off to college.’ Her arm locked under mine.

My sister… My best friend… my everything . . .

‘Oh crap! I forgot.’ I stopped suddenly.

‘What?’

‘I promised Coach Ryder that I’d leave the track times in her office.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. But make it quick. I’ll wait by the car.’

I quickly ran up the long, narrow, corridor, nearly slipping on the recently cleaned floors. The overpowering smell of pine tingled in my nostrils, and I quickly held my breath.

Surprisingly, I had a sudden burst of energy, even though the day’s acrobatics had pushed me sky high. But I was sixteen; I should be surging off it. I pushed open Coach Ryder’s door. God, she was immaculate. Everything had been placed faultlessly in its position. I bet she has got some feng shui going on here, I thought. I speedily rested the folder neatly on her desk, squaring it perfectly like an interconnected jigsaw puzzle.

Bang! The door slammed loudly, and I immediately spin around.

‘Hello… precious,’ Simon hissed like a glowering snake. I jerked back, bumping my thigh sharply against the corner of the desk. He flicked his cat-like eyes excitedly at me. Panic thumped hard in my chest, setting off a ring of warning in my ears.

My eyes darted to the door—my escape.

‘Did you get my letters?’ He slowly removed his tattered baseball cap; his dirty blond hair was slicked down around his freckly face. For a short, frumpy man, he was still intimidating.

‘I-Simon, please let me leave!’ I managed to choke out. I could feel my throat constrict as his dark eyes fixed heavily on my heaving chest.

‘Come here to me. I want to show you something.’ He crooked his finger at me. I shook my head.

‘Please… I have something for you.’ He was one step closer.

I shook my head once more.

‘No!’ he shouted, stomping his feet loudly. ‘I’ve waited long enough for you.’

Alarmed, I crouched to the ground, trembling. I shut my eyes and mouthed into thin air over and over, ‘Please be a bad dream.’ My beating heart was assaulting my chest, and I couldn’t breathe.

Oh fuck! I wanted my dad. I wanted Christos… I needed Melena.

‘Please don’t fight me. You belong to me.’ I felt his hot breath hit my neck, and I could hear his muscles or bones cracking as he came closer.

The thick smell of bourbon burnt into my flesh, my stomach tightened, and the pesto chicken I had eaten for lunch was now stinging the back of my throat. I tried to push my body further into the wall. It was cold, but I was hot.

‘I’ve got photos of you all over my room.’ His fingers brushed stickily through hair. ‘Some naked.’ I clenched my hands solidly into fists. I had to fight him.

‘Now be a good girl and let me see that mouth of yours.’ His anxious hands brushed over my shoulders.

Anger instantly exploded through me like petrol thrown on an open fire. ‘Fuck off, you sicko!’ I screamed, snapping my face towards him and pushing him away.

Suddenly, his eyes sparked with rage. ‘You fucking bitch!’ An ugly shade of red peppered his face as he grabbed my shoulders, yanking me up. He then slammed me hard against the dry wall, which the back of my skull smashed into loudly, creating a fuzzy blur in front of me. He pulled me against his chest, burying his face into my neck. ‘Don’t make me mad. I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said. His slimy tongue licked up the side of neck to my ear, where he dipped it inside. A small sob escaped my lips as the lashing of his tongue flushed my eardrum, ensuring it was all I could hear. I could feel myself shaking from head to toe, and I ached violently. The pain spread like wildfire, destroying me inside. He had poisoned me.

‘Get your fucking hands off her!’ Melena screamed, her hands hammering loudly against his back. ‘You fucking sick bastard!’

A loud, angry growl erupted from him, and he quickly turned around and lunged at her. She then grabbed a nearby chair and cracked it across his head. A baneful groan then rose from the back of his throat as he fell to the ground.

I couldn’t move; I was paralysed and still pinned against the wall. I’d bit that hard on my tongue that I was spitting blood. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Melena’s hands grabbed on to my face; she was shaking, and I was shaking.

‘Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. I won’t let him hurt you.’

Her head is yanked back, and she lets out a terrifying howl; he’s got her by hair. I try to scream, but nothing but blood sputters from my mouth. My legs give way; I slump to the ground, unable to move; and I watch my beautiful sister being flung around like a battered rag doll.

Umph! I crawl on my stomach, pushing through the fear fighting my body—I need to help her. Her body slams hard next to me. I reach out, grabbing her limp hand into mine. I’m crying. She’s not moving, except for the tears running down her bloodstained cheeks. He kneels over her. I can hear ragged breathing drumming the air loudly. I had to be brave—brave for her. A slithered shadow comes across her baby doll face, like a thief of the night, taking all that he could. She squeezes my hand; I can feel her weak pulse attach to mine.

She’s giving up.

I give it all I had to rise up and look up at him, then at the pointed blade; it’s clear fate has been set.

Oh God! No! Please.

She presses her thumb into my palm. I sob as I pull to her, and I can do this I can save her. Save us. But I don’t.

He plunges savagely into her chest, cracking her ribs, making them rise up as the terrifying blood-curdling scream breaks from her throat.

I pull myself to her shoulder, pleading for her to stay—stay alive, for me.

Again he punctures cruelly into her chest, twisting her body with it as he rips it down.

‘Nooooooo!’ I scream.

Bright blue eyes come to mine; her skin begins to fade grey, and her lips open slightly. She will not go alone. I am here; I am all that she has. I squeeze my eyes shut. This is it. I’m losing her. She’s dying! Her hand begins to shake. I open my eyes to hers, nothing. I can’t hear her pain. A flood of black begins to pool from the centre of her eyes, swallowing up all the flecks of salt blue like a spread of burning lava, destroying, robbing all colours of life till nothing is left.

And there I see… death take her.

Chapter One

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S even years later… The dim lights of New York’s feverish night laser through the tinted glass car window. My breathing was excited as we were sucked into a long, dark tunnel. Everything was black, deathly silent. Except for the vibrations of the car moving, rippling across the heated stitched leather seats. ‘I wanted this,’ I kept telling myself, ‘to be a part of something diffe rent.’

To feel it—pain.

Pain was my entity clawing at the memories. Yes. I wanted darker, to venal out this burden at whatever sacrament to be put. I would sacrifice and I would bleed, even if it meant losing all knowledge of her.

Melena.

What to many would feel like a nightmare, this was anything but. I was controlled by something darkly maniacal that burnt so deep into my soul that the imprints were barbaric. Each dream I would die in some sort of sacrament, like a caustic horror movie on replay over and over. I had hoped to slip away, to be free, but all I did was awake to a body of sweat—a sickening reminder that I was still condemned to being alive.

This was hell.

My eyes snap open to the shadow in front of me, Christos. He still hadn’t moved from his seat, not even flinched. At times I had to look at his chest for vigour movement. I couldn’t understand why he was blocking me. He had pushed me to this point—begged me to come, to meet my future.

I wanted to ask, but instead, I too shared the silence.

Maybe it was better this way.

My eyes once again came to his, and I could see a sudden hunger surge thickly through his well-built powerful frame. I could smell it, taste him in the air—vanilla and sex. Something dark was kindling inside him, and now I could certainly feel it.

His silky black hair hung wildly around his collar, and his eyes were grey as the mist of a hard winter, spilling over you, frozen in time. He drew me in sharply as if he were the seasoned god himself. I sucked in a breath. He was saintly beautiful, a baby-faced thirty-year-old, indebted to a fishing empire, a Greek autocrat that thrived on power, sex, and all things leather—slammed hard against his bed post.

‘Are you afraid, thespini mou?’ His dark head bent down to mine, levelled. His carved jaw tensed in a frigid manner that made the butterflies in my tummy thump insanely.

My eyes flickered to his. ‘Never.’ I knew this game too well; fear was what fed him, and fear was what got him hard.

The hunger was evident; the blue shadow edged lightly around his chin and up the sides of his powerhouse jaw, which meant he was in a hellish mood. Especially when his hand fisted so tightly, baring specks of white flesh brandished over his tawny knuckles. He was itching for release, craving pain, wanting me at my weakest.

I could feel him, and possession burnt into me like an uncontrolled fire.

‘Theos.’ He drew out a deep chuckle. His hand rested on my knee. I felt the car stop.

‘Christos, what are…’ I closed my mouth quickly as movement with heat was suddenly pushing up my leg. I looked down as his long fingers skimmed up my hidden thigh; it was shielded by the deep-red silk gown I was wearing. I breathed deeply as the depraved flitters of need began to freckle over my skin. A playful tug on my black laced underwear hitched a quick breath in my throat once more as I watched those damn fucking eyes ricochet a deep pull from within me.

‘You look amazing,’ he said as he drew his finger precisely on the groove of my sex, just pausing above my throbbing clit. I tried to shift my hips, hoping his finger would press down. But he didn’t.

‘As do you,’ I said. The words barely came out. Christos knew how to seduce; he was skilled at alluring anyone to their knees. His hand quickly flicked out and he leant back. The edges of his mouth crept into amusement; he knew he had gotten me wet and played gaily on that enjoyment.

The Greek bastard had struck again.

The car door opens, and we exit on to massive red granite steps. Christos rests his hand on my lower back, guiding me up carefully. Nothing but tall shrubby trees and high fences shield the thickly set peached stone mansion in what looks like a rundown street. Oddly, there are empty houses pieced along the road, which makes me wonder if this is all a front. Heavily uniformed guards with collared Rottweilers patrol the grounds, their beady eyes glow eerie under the blinking street lamps.

Holy shit. What am I getting myself into?

My thoughts are pushed away as a Herculean of a man steps out from the brass double doors. Christos commands his shoulders back as he exchanges firm whispered words. The man moves aside and lets us through.

Christos’s large hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me in close as we make our way up a long burgundy-carpeted hallway; the heavy smell of musk lingers through the deep-mustard embossed walls, as if it is inch with a coat of thick dust. I swallow hard and brace myself; it is a struggle to breathe, and I don’t know whether it is from the shroud of limited oxygen or the Vera Wang corseted dress cleaved to my chest and stomach, restricting any air flow. It is vivid red, a colour that Christos said made my light Greek skin transmit into a luring goddess. I nervously tuck a falling strand of hair behind my ear, thankful that most of my hair was braided messily and pinned back. Suddenly I am flung against the wall. ‘Jesus, Christos!’

‘Shhh, glikia mou.’ He locks on to my gaze, pushing his hips into me. I freeze, unable to breathe, unable to move. I am aroused as he came without warning, like a slick Taipan; the survival rate was synonymous with his intense toxic slam. ‘Do you trust me?’ His husky voice vents chillingly against my ear.

‘Yes,’ I whisper.

Slowly I slide my palms down his muscled shoulders over his dark raven tux. His breathing quickens, filling his chest as I explore lower, running my hands freely. I can feel the heat come through his shirt, as if my fingers had slipped through the white cotton touching his red-hot flesh.

‘I’m so sorry, yineka mou.’ Christos’s voice conveys a sadness he felt. He takes my hand, and placing it on his chest, says, ‘You will always be in my heart, Selena.’

‘Christos, what’s going on?’ I bring my hand up and trail my thumb along his stubbled cheekbone. He tenderly kisses inside the palm of my hand, slowly working a feathery assault of his supple lips down along my arm. I whimper a soft moan as the heat begins to flush thickly, blistering to my most sensitive of areas.

‘Forgive me.’ Christos breathes warmly on my neck. A cold chain wraps around my throat.

‘What is this?’ I ask, touching what feels like a satin-like jewelled choker.

‘A test.’

Before I can form another sentence, two lumbering figures cut in sleek tuxedos approach sullenly. Christos’s arm snakes protectively around my waist, pulling me into him.

‘Mr Theodori… It’s time,’ one of the men voices an order. Oddly, they both are wearing sunglasses, and yet we are blanketed in darkness; this all reminds me of a scene in Men in Black. Christos nods stiffly, and we follow the men out.

I step into a private box that steeples above a reciprocity theatre. My eyes scan to the optical fixtures hanging on a batten above the stage, and its soft lavender light sprinkles on to the high-class-attired crowd below. ‘Are we at the opera?’ I look around at the vacant seats behind me.

Christos’s face is deadpan as he looks around the room. ‘You could say that.’

‘Hardly stimulating if you ask me. I thought there would be whips and chains.’ I run my fingers along the nut-brown grainy rail.

‘Wait till the main event.’

A waiter brings a glass of Martini and a chilled peroni out from the side of the thickly pleated gold curtain behind us.

‘How did they know what we drink?’ I whisper.

A smirk creeps along Christos’s face ‘He. Knows. Everything.’

‘Oh really? Is he going to be joining us?’

‘Yes. This is his private booth.’

I gasp quietly, ‘Christos, what have you done?’

His takes a long sip of his beer, his heated eyes never leaving mine. ‘I’m giving you what you want.’

My hand steadies on the rail for support. My heart is racing; the fear or excitement begins to revel instantly through me.

Breathe! Just breathe.

Christos steps in closer to me. His shirt brushes lightly over the top of my breasts.

‘Why, Christos? Why now?’

‘It’s time.’ He brings his hand up, tucking another loose strand of hair behind my ear. ‘I won’t lose you again. He can give you what you want.’

I swallow the glass wholly. The burn stings wildly at the back of my throat, pushing down that dark impulse that is growing inside me.

Christos dances his fingertips down my arm. ‘This is what you want. Theos?’ he murmurs softly.

‘Yes,’ I sigh, closing my eyes.

I knew what he was doing. He was taking me back to that day, the day and moment that my life was given hope. The world had seemed to stop when I walked in on Christos in a scene. The striking blonde model was spent from his lashings, as deep-drawn welts smoothed over her buttocks like a buttery spread, making her porcelain skin glow brightly. Her tiny were hands bounded tightly in leather that was leashed to a thin glittery collar around her neck. Something told me that she had been here before. Her harrowing cries caused her body to wither in the tangled satin sheets. She was begging for Christos, forcing a deep animalistic growl that came from her trembling flushed lips; it made my mouth drop open to hear her. I turned to run but something pulled me back. His strong hands wrapped around my waist, spinning me around to face her. Christos didn’t speak; his hot breath came hard on my neck, just like the growing width pushing through his jeans.

I bit back a gasp.

I could feel his rising chest press against my back. He was naked from the waist up. My mouth had watered up; he was a killer—naked.

That was my weakness.

Her moans became louder, she was in pain, and I could feel it. Short, sharp breaths were coming quickly, splitting through the air; she was panting loudly.

For what? I couldn’t register why this women was tied, flogged, and uncontrolled in Christos’s bed. I scanned the room till they fall on the long black whip next to her.

My blood thickened.

On the floor was a bright red wooden paddle.

My breath started to shorten.

On his dresser were silvered clamps and a string of glassed purple beads.

My sex clenched tight. Shit, what was happening?

A dark flush came across her pretty face as her eyes locked on to mine, and then I saw it.

Fuck me.

She was enjoying this. ‘Christos!’ she hummed again loudly. And suddenly my back was bare; he was gone, standing next to her. Her eyes warmed to him as he brought his hand gently to her face, brushing his fingers over and over her cheek. Caressing sweetly, he was in awe with her; nothing in this world mattered; a private moment that they had only locked. Her violet eyes swept to mine—a hunger swirled. Lust. Possession. Need.

She licked her lips hungrily. I was mesmerised by her; she was controlling me as if her fingers were digging into my flesh to surrender. A sudden heat burnt in my stomach, and what I thought was damaged, shattered out of me like a broken mirror.

I was alive.

I brought my fingers up to the top of my cotton dress, where one by one I popped each button. She moaned lightly, not letting her eyes fall from mine. Christos was still focused on her; his hand rolled down her soft tummy, where he drew small circles with his index finger and whispered sweet words to her like an exotic lullaby.

The dress fell to my feet; her face lit up excitedly as she trailed her gaze from my toes to my chest.

‘Oh, fuck,’ she hissed, throwing her head back. Christos breathed loudly as he pushed two fingers into her sweltering folds. She moaned softly as he rocked his strong hand to her hips. I wanted to force my fingers into the hot skin beneath me to feel what she witnessed.

‘Come here, Selena,’ Christos murmured throatily.

I stepped forward slowly.

‘Remove your underwear,’ he said.

I stopped and did as he said, shakily pushing them down my legs and flicking them away with my toes.

‘Come for me.’ Christos spoke only to her as he dipped his head down, taking her lip between his teeth and tugging it. She gasped loudly, arching her back up, legs twitching. He broke his tongue in through her mouth, deep, blanketing her moaning. It was fierce, carnal, and a taste he needed. I could smell her arousal. It rolled over me, hardening my nipples and making me wet below.

She was magical, an angel in my eyes. A martyr of pain, showered with love and devotion.

I wanted that. I needed it.

She slumped back down and affectionately twinkled her fingers up and down his arm. For moments I just watched them share a feeling, a reflection of some sort, an understanding. Her eyes then switched back to mine; they suddenly darkened, and there I felt the envelope of pain.

Now it was my turn.

Christos leant back up and turned to me. His face was cold and eyes as feral as a hunted wolf. My cheeks began to burn, and I quickly put my hand on my stomach as it clenched.

Shit. I felt it.

Felt him taking control on me.

He stalked slowly towards me. I wasn’t scared of him or felt threatened, but I knew he was unpredictable. I stepped back, but with each step I took, he took two till I was caged against the wall. His long concrete arms pressed above my head, and he bowed his eyes to mine ‘Are you okay?’ he said with a thick spray of breath that touched the side of my ear and slid down my neck over the thin layer of skin on my throbbing pulse.

I nodded.

‘Good.’ Christos pressed his warm mouth to my ear. ‘Now… I’m going to fuck you.’

I gasped inside. My eyes widened. Sweet Christos was gone; something dark and twisted had replaced him. I rocked a shiver that pooled deviously below. He knew I had found my release.

Pain.

Right then and there he fucked me hard against the wall. It went for days till my body was broken and finally I fell asleep.

‘Selena,’ Christos said with warning. I shot my eyes open, coming back to reality and turned to face him; his eyes lazily fell to my breast, then fiercely snapped back to mine. I watched him finish his beer.

‘Now if you excuse me, I have a matter to attend to.’ He shook his head and locked his fingers with my hand, taking me over to a long vintage red-velvet plush lounge with button cushioning.

‘Well, where is this so-called maverick?’ I say.

‘He’s standing behind you.’ Christos’s gaze burnt into me, pressing me down to sit.

Fuck! I freeze. My hands fumble nervously into my lap. The butterflies bang against the walls in my stomach.

I feel a presence behind me—It’s him. My pulse beats loudly in my ears. I haven’t realised I’ve held my breath.

I feel sick.

‘Good girl.’ Christos nods.

‘I-Chris,’ I stutter.

‘It’s a game… remember.’ Christos leans his head down, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. ‘Now play, Theos.’ I nod lightly.

‘You really don’t know how special you are.’ His eyes search mine and for a moment. I think he wants to say more, but his mouth closes quickly. I bite my lip painfully, fighting back tears.

‘I will always be yours, but—’

He cuts me off, placing his finger on my lips. ‘No. No, you won’t,’ he says with a slow shake of his head and straightens his back up.

I watch him walk away out of the corner of my eye, and I don’t yet move. I’m too panicked to look behind me.

Breathe, just breathe.

The same waiter comes in and places down another Martini and an iced Tumbler—Scotch? I debate to have that instead. The lights go dim and the stage alights.

‘Are you scared, Selena?’ he whispers deeply, and I jump a little at his salacious voice.

Christ, what is happening to me?

I shake my head. I’m a mute to speak.

‘Rule number one. You. Can. Not. Look. At. Me.’ The voice warrants from behind me.

I nod my head quickly as my eyes do not leave from the stage. His long lean arm brushes past me and takes his glass. I gasp inside at his youthful hand; his long tanned fingers curl around the glass.

Fuck me! I quiver, squeezing my thighs tightly shut.

Suddenly the curtains are drawn to a fully pieced orchestra dressed in formal attire, all quietly seated. A tall, languid man in late thirties, sharply suited in bell-bottoms comes to the stage.

‘Can I have your attention please, ladies, gentleman, and my fellow guardians? Tonight is a very special night, a real treat for all to watch. We have a new member to our top eight doms due to Miguel’s sudden retirement.’

Soft murmurs raid throughout the room. The man raises his hands for silence. ‘I know. I know he was a talented man, but my friends, he went soft, if you know what I mean.’ A light laugh comes around the room. ‘Now this young man