Sunday, February 13, 2011

Obadiah's Journey (chapter 3)

The appearance of two figures on one of the temporary screens startled Obadiah, but he wasted no time clicking his computer program into action.  Despite his failure to identify the mystery pair, Obadiah felt some satisfaction that his final computer project worked seamlessly.  The other guard on duty failed to notice the single flicker as the screen changed from a current display to one Obadiah had recorded previously, the current activity transferred to a video file on his laptop.

Thanks to Obadiah’s search for the “notorious Senator”, he had heard the gossip about the construction area the pair had selected for this nighttime adventure.  The year’s elections had caused major upheaval, requiring that office spaces be totally reassigned.  The Senate minority had been assigned this area in the basement, which was still under construction.

Earlier attempts to paint the sandstone foundation had gone poorly; the living stone rejected the paint in many of the earlier reconstructions.  Instead, the Senate Minority Leader had decided to embrace the dungeon like appearance of the basement quarters the party had been given.  The room this pair had selected even had eye-bolts screwed into the sandstone in various locations.  The cameras had only been installed temporarily in the offices due to various allegations of fraud in the construction. Obadiah had a wealth of gossipy information, but he was no closer to identifying the Senator.

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Jordan threw the extra latch on the external door before making his way to the room where Violet waited.  There, he closed another latch, ensuring their privacy for the evening.  The party may have suffered in the elections, but they did not skimp during their construction project – these offices would be secure once completed.  But once completed, it would be more difficult to find them empty.

Violet had already prepared for Jordan’s arrival, a leap of faith even in the deserted construction area.  She had taken off her suit, hanging it neatly in the doorless closet.  In place of her daytime clothing, she wore only leather cuffs around her ankles and wrists.  The cuffs were black with purple trim, the silver fittings matching the only other item she wore – a white-gold engagement torc he had given her earlier that week, because she refused to consider a second wedding ring.

He took several long steps over to her, gathering her in his arms and kissing her soundly. Her naked body pressed against his suit, a little shiver racing down her back. Violet closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensation. It was a very innocent power exchange, being naked while he remained in his office attire, but one she loved.

After several minutes, he pulled away from her to remove his suit coat. He hung it neatly beside her suit. Stretching a bit, he plucked several items off the back of the shelf in the closet and carried them back to her. He set his cane, crop, and flogger on a table that was pushed against the wall. Beside them, he set a small bag. He unzipped the little bag and removed a few more items accompanied by the sound of metal clicking against metal.

With a few words and sharp slaps, he positioned Violet in the center of the room. Her arms were raised above her head, her wrists secured to eye-bolts in the ceiling by carabiners. Her legs were spread wide, but unsecured. Jordan began with the flogger, circling Violet, wakening her skin. After several minutes of that, he took up the crop, turning her pink skin a darker shade of red.

Her eyes were closed and her breathing harsh before he set aside the crop. He spent an eternal moment touching her, exploring her bare skin with his hands, his nails, his lips and his teeth. She whimpered when he pulled away, knowing that the last bit of the scene would be the hardest to take.

He set the cane against her breast. Her eyes opened slightly, her gaze locking with his.

“Something you want to say, little one?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head quickly, never taking her eyes from his. He brought the cane down hard, raising a red welt. He repositioned himself and struck again. Several strikes to each breast left a brilliant starburst pattern. He set the cane aside and took her breasts in his hands, squeezing them hard. She writhed against the sensation, arching her back and pressing her breasts into his hands. He ducked his head, taking first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth.

“You did very well,” he murmured, retrieving his cane, “I was going to put clamps on, but if you’re very good, I won’t.”

She nodded sharply, her lip caught between her teeth. She moaned when he stepped behind her, and hissed when the cane struck hard against her thigh. But she held tightly to her position, breathing in the pain of each strike, accepting it and loving it.

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