Preston The Lost Angel

Obsession Series, Book Four
1. Auflage 2016
ISBN: 978-1-945648-15-1
Verlag: Pink Flamingo Media
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet/DL/kein Kopierschutz

E-Book, Englisch, 104 Seiten

The dramatic conclusion to the four novel Obsession Series. Grace Madsen has finally overcome her sexual repression in the arms of nightclub owner Jim Jefferson. However, their happy life in Chicago abruptly ends when she sees the grotesque horns of a demon named Lucius Barrington. After insinuating himself into her life, Barrington claims Grace as the Mother of all Evil from whose womb the Anti-Christ will be born. Grace boldly tries to reject her past beliefs and fears, but visions of the demon and the sound of his voice continue to torment her...

Autoren/Hrsg.

Preston, Paul

Leseproben

Chapter One The Horns of the Demon I see the demon for the first time a week before Thanksgiving. I’m at my usual table in Obsessions chatting with one of the patrons when I see the horns reflected in the wall mirror directly in front of me. I rub my eyes and look closer to be sure I’m not imagining it. No, the horns are real, protruding out in two sharp points from the man’s forehead, as if surgically implanted into his flesh. The horns have this repulsive reddish-black hue; the color of a centipede. My blood runs cold when I see them. I’ve been afraid of the devil ever since I was a little girl. Despite the fact I had convinced myself the devil is not real, Satan has come for me in the flesh to make his claim on my body and my soul. The horned man catches me looking at him and he stares back at me in the mirror. Normally I don’t mind being an object of lust for the gentlemen in the club, but the demon’s lascivious gaze makes me uncomfortable down to my bones. Thankfully I see my Dom, Jim Jefferson, standing next to the beast. James notices me in the mirror and smiles in that shy affectionate way of his. I escape for a moment into the tranquil pools of his beautiful brown eyes. I’ve never seen this odd creepy man in Obsessions before. James is evidently taking him on the standard tour he gives to all first time visitors. It has always been my Dom’s policy to allow any person to visit his club who wishes to explore an alternative sexual lifestyle, regardless of their physical appearance or proclivities, as long as they follow the rules. I just wish on this occasion he had not been so welcoming. Two Goth-looking women dressed in unflattering black lingerie stand next to the demon, apparently as part of his entourage. Though they don’t wear pointy black hats, they look like witches just the same. They’re rather plain-looking, apart from the thick mascara under their eyes, and have stringy black hair. Their faces are expressionless. They attend to his needs like servants, one woman holding his drink, the other his cane. The horned man pays no attention to them. As James speaks to the man, the two women stand obediently at the demon’s side, awaiting his next command. Everyone in the club stares at the pair of witches. Although the women don’t seem to notice the strange looks, I feel sorry for them. However revolting the demon is to me, I think it’s wrong to judge them for their devotion. I know what it feels like to worship a man. If the Christian friends I once knew ever found out about my submissive relationship with James, they would assume I too was a lost soul, destined for an eternity of suffering in the pits of Hell. To them, I would be considered as nothing more than an unchaste woman, a whore. I know I’ll never be accepted by my parents, my friends or the church I once belonged to. But I also know my Dom loves me exactly as I am. I finally found a place in this world where I belong, where I no longer need to repress my desires. I made a choice to pursue the pleasures of the flesh rather than the spirit and it was the right decision for me. With James I feel so alive and free. I wondered if the two witches were as fulfilled in their lives as I was. When the older of the two witches turns her body slightly away from me, I see something else very upsetting in the mirror. I observe what looks like red marks across her right shoulder, as if made by the lashes of a whip. The marks are not the result of a light consensual session of discipline between a Dominant and his sub. The ugly raised welts appear to be permanent. Has he been beating her? The grotesque man lifts his eyebrows suggestively after noticing me staring at his witch. I shudder and immediately look away. I try to put the demon and his witches out of my mind by focusing on the gentlemen visiting my table. I try listen to what he’s saying, but cannot. Even though I dare not look in the mirror again, I know the demon is watching me. I can feel his presence slithering closer to me, his coal-black eyes burning into the back of my neck. My forehead begins to perspire. I feel light-headed and slightly queasy. I want to escape from the club and get as far away as I can from the demon. But now that he’s found me, there is nowhere to hide. Up until this moment, I’ve enjoyed my time at Obsessions and felt totally safe here. My Dom designed the club precisely for the protection of vulnerable women and keeps a vigilant watch over us along with his security team. James takes the rules of the club seriously. Only a collared submissive under a signed contract with a Dominant is permitted in Area 2, where I’m currently sitting. A submissive in Area 2 must be chained either by her ankle to the table leg or by her wrist to the O-rings mounted on the wall. Both the wrist and the ankle may be restrained if the Dom prefers. Only non-sexual touching such as casual kiss on the cheek, a handshake or a brief friendly hug is allowed between a man and woman in this section. I feel quite comfortable in Area 2 and have met quite a lot of nice people and made many friends over the last months. Area 1 is for single women who desire to meet an unattached Dominant male or is perhaps just curious about the BDSM lifestyle in general. It’s the largest section of Obsessions and is very similar to any other night club, with table service for drinks and a dance floor. The women in this section are free to roam about the club unencumbered though they may not order drinks directly from the bar. Area 3 is the smallest and most risqué section, corded off from the rest of the club. A submissive in Area 3 must be chained by all four limbs and displayed in an X-shape upon a raised platform. Her legs are spread apart and her ankles are attached to cuffs in the floor, while her wrists are fastened over her head to chains dangling from the ceiling. There are chairs positioned below the platform for viewing. Like in Area 2, only a woman in a committed submissive relationship is permitted there. But in Area 3 women must give their consent to be fondled and stroked intimately by anonymous men, with their Dominant’s permission and only under his supervision. Clothing in this section is optional. It is customary for a woman to achieve an orgasm in Area 3, though a sexual release by a man anywhere in the club is strictly forbidden. My previous Dom, Charles Anderson, once displayed me there, but James has never shown a proclivity to share me with other men, though it is clearly written in our contract that he has the right to do so. As of now I think James feels more comfortable keeping me captive in Area 2 where men can look at me all they want, but not touch. I very much enjoy spending my evenings here. Since I’m the submissive of the club’s owner, I like to be the least dressed woman in the room. On most occasions I wear a sexy dress without a bra or on lingerie nights nothing but a see-through camisole, a pencil-thin G-String, thigh high stockings, garter belt and heels. Most of the regulars who patronize Obsessions have a not so secret crush on me. They stop by my table to talk, leer at me and buy me a Perrier. I suppose I’ve come a long way since I was a devout Christian attending First Assembly of God and listening to Pastor Orman’s fire and brimstone sermons every Sunday. Now it doesn’t even bother me in the slightest when visitors who are unaware of the club rules inevitably try to kiss me or slip their hands under my lingerie to squeeze my exposed breasts and ass. It happens almost on a nightly basis. Being fondled by a stranger in the club isn’t really a problem for me. When one of the gentlemen gets a little too frisky, the inappropriate touching abruptly comes to an end as soon as I point my Dom out to them. Jim Jefferson is the largest and most intimidating man in the room. He sports a large scar running diagonally across his cheek, suffered in his childhood while defending a woman from being raped, which makes me proud to be his submissive every time I see it. Though I happen to find his scar quite attractive, it frightens most gentlemen in the club enough to keep their hands to themselves. James doesn’t even get upset anymore when an inebriated gentleman in search of a submissive starts to paw at me. Before I became his submissive he would erupt into a jealous rage when he saw anyone touch me. Once he even picked a wealthy, long-term patron up off the floor by the lapels of his suit and kicked him out of the club for removing my dress and fondling my breasts. Now James is much more relaxed, knowing I belong only to him. If he sees a gentleman touch me inappropriately, he just asks one of his security guards to call the poor man a cab and calmly usher him out of the club. I think it’s a testament to the trust we’ve built between us as Dom and sub. He seems very happy and at peace with our arrangement and often tells me how lucky he feels to be my Dom. Life with James has been a pleasure, up until the moment I saw the horns in the mirror. My serenity seems… broken now. I wish the demon had never walked into our club. I blame my ridiculous fears of the devil on the sermons I heard as a child. My Dom and I have discussed these matters at great length. I even persuaded James to sign our first contract months ago in hopes it would put my past behind me. To some extent, it has helped. Since signing the contract, I no longer pray to God to take away my inappropriate sexual thoughts. I’ve chosen not to go back to our church, First Assembly of God, to the dismay of my parents. I now see First Assembly as the place I...