Indigo Bloome Collection: The Avalon Trilogy: Destined to Play, Destined to Feel, Destined to Fly. Indigo Bloome

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Indigo Bloome Collection: The Avalon Trilogy: Destined to Play, Destined to Feel, Destined to Fly - Indigo  Bloome


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Webster this morning?

       He finally flips my body so I’m face up. He straddles my belly and starts to tickle me mercilessly and I, of course, shriek in response. ‘No, stop, please, I hate it,’ I gasp out between attacks.

       ‘No way, not until you promise to share.’ I’m trapped beneath him as his tortuous fingers continue their assault.

       ‘Okay, okay, I can’t stand it, please stop.’

       He waits patiently for me to compose my breathing, anchoring my hands either side of my head so he has full view of my face. I decide to make it as fast and brief as possible.

       ‘I’ve always had this fantasy of being completely restrained and blind and flogged and pleasured and I want to understand the root cause because I’m deeply embarrassed by it. There, end of discussion.’

       He looks quizzically at me, a smirk on his face but his eyes wide. I silently beg him to leave it be.

       ‘Interesting.’ He stares at me thoughtfully, the silence expanding between us.

       ‘Did you enjoy tonight, Alex?’

       ‘Yes.’

       ‘A lot?’

       ‘Very much.’

       ‘Did you expect to?’

       ‘No, not really.’

       ‘I am more than happy to be directly involved in researching any part of your thesis.’

       ‘Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind.’

       ‘Thank you for sharing.’

       And I can’t believe I’m off the hook.

      ‘Anyway, I’m thrilled that you are finally on your path of self-discovery. It means my plan is working exactly as I anticipated.’

      ‘Oh dear, there is nothing more ominous than you with a plan, Jeremy.’

      ‘Don’t sound so cynical, sweetheart. Look how far you have come already and we still have so far to go.’ He is just teasing me, I’m sure, although his reply is a little too enthusiastic to instil a large degree of confidence in my assumption. ‘Just out of interest, did you ever end up exploring the psychology of your hypotheses first-hand, like we discussed?’

      ‘No, Jeremy, I didn’t and besides, you would have known about it if I had.’

      ‘Oh, why is that?’

      ‘Do you really need to ask me that? As if I would do anything like that with anyone other than you.’

      ‘I can’t tell you how much that pleases me, Alexa, in so many ways.’ I’m not one hundred per cent sure what his comment implies but I am one hundred per cent sure I want to move away from this conversation, quickly.

      ‘Okay, far be it from me to put a dampener on this journey you have so carefully planned for me.’ I finish my coffee and place the empty container on the table.

      ***

      I really need to use the bathroom after my coffee. This is going to be awkward. I can’t believe I have to ask him; it is so embarrassing. It is at these times that being dependent is just plain awful. But what choice do I have?

      ‘No problem, just in here.’ He guides me through a door. His hand threads through my legs and pulls a zipper down around my bottom, between my legs and up toward my belly. I can’t honestly believe he has just done that.

      ‘The toilet is right behind you. Oh, and don’t worry about your knickers. They’re French, for easy access.’ I can hear the smile in his voice.

      ‘I’ll leave you to it and wait outside.’

      Is there one minutia of detail he hasn’t considered this weekend? Anything left unaccounted for? Probably not, he has always been a meticulous planner and obviously those skills have only been more finely tuned over the years. Zips and French knickers. Good grief! I wonder whether they are for convenience such as this, or did he have something else in mind? The thought shudders through me as I make myself focus on the task at hand.

      ‘Right, all set?’ he asks.

      I nod.

      ‘Great, come with me. Let’s get you harnessed up.’

      Oh crap, is all I can think.

      My feet remain anchored to the ground as my stomach embarks on another roller-coaster ride of anticipation, fear, calm, fear, calm, fear, fear …

      ‘Harness …’ I ask hesitantly. ‘And that’s a statement, not a question,’ I add quickly for clarification.

      He leads me silently and blindly forward. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll love it.’

      ‘Love it? Love what?’ My voice turns suspicious, as I cast around for something that I love that involves a harness. I draw a blank.

      Straps are placed over my shoulders as I hear ‘click, click’. I feel rough hands around my legs doing the same thing; around my waist, ‘click, click’. It’s all I can hear as my anxiety rises.

      ‘Jeremy?’ They don’t feel like his hands. I can smell stale cigarettes.

      ‘How does that feel, love?’ A strange man’s voice. I realise he is talking to me as one strap is pulled tighter and readjusted. I am tugged and pulled, clipped and then a final snap.

      ‘That’s better,’ the voice says. ‘Looks like you’re both set. Don’t worry, love, you’ll be right once you get into the swing of it. It’s only the first part that’s shit scary.’ He laughs and pats my shoulder as if to reassure me. My voice leaves my throat and is unable to protest that I can’t see through these sunglasses, just as my legs begin to liquefy. Swing of it? Shit scary for the first part? Although my mouth is attempting to shape the words, there is no sound forthcoming. I desperately try to make sense of what is happening minus the visual stimulation. I have clothes on; that has to be good, doesn’t it? But the zips, the access between my legs, the straps, the clips, they are all very, very worrying. My mind is filled with images of wild sex games and orgies. How could he? Why would he? This is going too far. I can’t do this, I will never do this … It is not who I am. My breath is shallow and my mind freezes as panic sets in.

      I hear someone’s voice.

      ‘Alex?’ It is in the distance somewhere. My knees buckle as my head spins and I struggle for air. I crumple toward my feet and am caught before I hit the ground.

      ‘God, AB, are you alright?’

      ‘No, I am not alright at all.’ I’m not sure whether my mind or voice speaks the words.

      ‘Just take your time, breathe.’ Strong arms around me keep me walking somewhere as my legs wobble beneath me. ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you, that’s it, one step at a time.’

      Yes, one step at a time, that’s right, stop the feeling, stop the spinning. Good advice, my mind confirms, as we continue up some steps and along a little further.

      ‘Here, sit down, would you like some water?’ I’m lowered onto a hard, cushioned seat.

       Yes, water, good idea.

      ‘Alexa, water?’

      I have already said yes, then I realise it’s my mind talking so maybe he hasn’t heard me. I nod my head. I feel water at my lips and take a sip, then some more. I need to prolong this to gain control over my head and stomach, and tell Jeremy we need to stop what we are doing.

      Take a deep breath … My stomach is still churning but the dizziness is leaving me, thanks


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