Chapter Four

 

 

Moreen wasn’t sure why she was here, standing in front of the Cave of Pleasure. When her probation officer had told her he approved of her working at the bar, that he’d talked to Matuse, the owner, she’d been stunned.

“As long as you don’t fall behind on your community service hours or your payments on your fine, it’ll be good,” he’d said. “From the paperwork he gave me, it looks like you’ll be making more money, which is a good thing. No drinking, though. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” She’d nodded, still floored.

Then she’d gone home and found a note from Paran floating near her refrigerator, telling her to meet him at the club at nine. She’d thought about saying no, but she was afraid that if she did, she would lose her new job before it even started.

Her body still tingled from the orgasm he’d given her that afternoon. Letting him get too close to her would be dangerous, though. No relationship had ever worked for her. Aside from Randy, there had been only one man: James Nixon. He’d wanted to get close to her so he could play with her breasts. She quickly found that out, and when she’d refused him one time, he’d tried to force himself on her. She’d responded with a well-placed kick, and that had been the end of that. Since then she’d stayed away from men.

Until today.

Her clit twitched at the memory of Paran’s fingers, of the caressing and pinching. She pushed the feelings aside. They would give her nothing but trouble.

After showering and dressing in her best jeans and blouse, she took the subway to the club. Now she stood outside, wavering between going in and going home. The man working the door made the decision for her. He saw her, cocked a finger at her to motion her forward, then pulled aside the cord and ushered her through.

“He’s waiting for you upstairs, Moreen. We’re glad you’re here.” She didn’t question how he knew her. If Paran was a Djinni, and had gotten her this job at the club, there was no doubt in her mind the man who’d just admitted her was a Djinni, as were the owner and most of the workers, probably.

When she got inside, she tried not to stare at the colorful pieces of fabric that floated down from the ceiling, at the small braziers of light that hung in mid-air, or the low sitting tables filled with laughing people. She hadn’t been in a club since her early twenties. And those clubs were dark and dingy, nothing like what she stood in now.

The waiters and waitresses, dressed in light, gauzy clothing, all greeted her by name, their smiles infectious. They warmed her up inside as nothing had in a long time. Her co-workers at her jobs had always been leery of her, since they all knew her background. She was sure these people did, too, but they didn’t seem to care.

She felt Paran’s stare before she saw him. She followed the feel of him and found him standing near a staircase.

“You’re late,” he said, shaking his head. “I was afraid I would have to come after you.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m here to meet the boss.”

“No, you can do that tomorrow when you’re actually working.”

“But I need to discuss hours. I missed my volunteer time at the center today, and I have to make it up tomorrow to stay on track. I have to put in twenty hours a week.”

“And you will. You need to stop worrying about things and let me be in control.”

“Randy said the same thing. And look where it landed me.”

He laughed, then held out his hand. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t question me.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me where we’re going.”

The wicked smile was back. “Don’t ever tell me you’re not going to do something. Do you remember what I said? You will obey me.”

“If I’m not meeting the boss, I’m going home.” She turned to leave, screeching when she was lifted into the air before she could take a step. She floated beside Paran as he walked down a wide hallway.

Moreen struggled against the unseen binding that encased her body. “Let me go!”

“You’re far too tense. This will relax you.”

“Right!” She continued to struggle. “I’m real relaxed, floating through the air with invisible ropes tied around me. You son of a—let me go!”

“That’s your own fault. You should have done what I said.”

A scream of frustration tore from her throat and reverberated through the hallway. There were several people walking nearby, but no one stopped to see if she was all right, or to ask her if she needed help.

Paran pushed open a door and she glided inside. Candles hovered in mid-air, their fire the only illumination in the room. The scent of lavender hit her nose, its smell pleasing to her nostrils. Within seconds she was lying face-up on a padded table, her body strapped down.

“I’m going to take your clothes off now,” he said. “Just a warning so you don’t scream again. I have very sensitive ears.”

She screamed again anyway, making sure her head was turned toward him. When he laughed, she tried one more time. Within seconds she was naked, her legs and arms tethered away from her body.

“You need to relax.”

Instead, she panicked. “Please, please let me go,” she pleaded, then stiffened when he put his hands on her shoulders and began rubbing her.

“Shush, just relax. A nice massage will feel wonderful.”

His hands didn’t roam away from her shoulders, and that relaxed her a little. She didn’t think he planned to rape her. Still, being naked in front of him, despite the low lighting, was disconcerting. She wanted her clothes back. Now.

He placed his hands to her temples, gently moving his finger in circles. She moaned softly, trying to ease her breathing.

“That’s it, just calm down. I’m not going to force myself on you, or do anything you’re not going to like.”

Calm rolled over her in a gentle wave. In her heart, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

His hands shifted and were back on her shoulders now. He had put some sort of oil on his fingers and it soaked into her skin, warming her on contact.

“Close your eyes. Think about nothing but the oil and my fingers. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Deep breathes. That’s it.”

His soft voice soothed her, making her feel as if she floated on air. She closed her eyes, loving the feel of him. His hands moved down her chest, stopping just above her breasts, his fingers stroking in soft circles.

She let out a moan and he gently patted her shoulder. “That’s it. Keep your eyes shut. Trust me.”

She felt it, the change in his position. She opened her eyes and stared at him.

“Bad girl. What did I say?”

Her breath left her lungs as he placed one hand on her stomach and reached for the pot of oil floating next to him with the other. He dipped his fingers inside, then held them over her chest. Warm liquid trickled over her breasts, her nipples peaking under the dribble.

“At the risk of sounding like a teenage human, I just have to say you have gorgeously huge breasts, topped by those fantastic nipples.”

She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side.

“Do you have something to say to that?”

“What? For making me feel like I’m back in high school with the guys staring at my tits?”

“How about ‘thank you’? That’s the common response when someone pays you a compliment, isn’t it?”

“I have large breasts because I’m a large woman. Or did you miss my large stomach and my large hips staring you in the face? You couldn’t have missed my huge shoulders. My father used to say they reminded him of a linebacker’s shoulders.”

He studied her for a few minutes, then his hands caressed her stomach. “Did he say it as a joke, or was he being cruel?”

“He always laughed, and he always said it to try and lighten the mood when I was upset about being large.” The memory of his laugh made her squeeze her eyes shut. She enjoyed memories like those, memories of happier times.

“Let me ask you something.” He trailed his fingers down her left leg, leaving a trail of oil in their wake. “When I complimented you on your breasts, did you take it badly? Did you think I was making fun of you? That I was pointing out a deformity?”

She moaned under his touch as he dripped oil over her feet, coating each toe. He tickled the soles and she giggled, fighting against her invisible bonds. “You’re being mean. Stop that.”

“Answer me.”

“No, you weren’t making fun of me.”

“Then why wouldn’t you say thank you?” He lightly brushed a finger up the instep of each foot then back down, circling around her ankles.

“Thanks. Is that better?”

“Humph, talk about a backhanded thank you. We’re going to have to work on how you take compliments.”

She relaxed into the table, enjoying the soft caress of his hands as he massaged each calf. She could feel the heat from his body, and when he bumped her, she realized that he, too, was naked. The idea flooded her senses. She opened her eyes and looked down.

His cock stood at attention, long and thick. There was a silver ring on the end and even from her position she could see … bumps? She realized his shaft was also pierced, a row of five piercings on the underside of his penis, the balls from them decorating the sides of his cock.

“They will bring you great pleasure when I fuck you,” he said as if reading her mind.

“That must have hurt. Or is it a demon thing?” She stiffened again, almost afraid now that she remembered he wasn’t really human.

“No, I had it done. It hurt a little, but not much. I healed them with my magic so it didn’t take long before I was ready to use them, and enjoy them. I wouldn’t recommend it for a human male.” Their gazes locked and he narrowed his eyes in amusement. “Would you like to touch them?”

“Yes.” It had been so long since she was intimate with a man that the word tumbled out before she even thought about it.

Within seconds he was sitting on his knees above the table, his body not touching anything, his hard cock bobbing in front of her. She licked her lips. The ring gleamed in the light from the candles and she could see the balls better now, their rods inserted just under the skin at about one inch intervals.

The bonds that held her left hand released and she lifted it toward him, reaching out with her fingers, but stopping right before contact. She gazed back up at him, her chest moving rapidly with excitement.

“It’s all right. Go ahead.”

She gently touched the ring, moving it just a little before pulling her hand back. “It doesn’t hurt?”

“No, it feels fantastic. Run your finger along the side of piercings.”

She did as he said, and his sharp intake of breath let her know it felt good. Would she feel the rings when he was inside her? She was sure she would. But then again, it had been so long since she’d had sex, she was practically a virgin again.

“I hate to tell you this, but that’s not possible.”

Moreen slapped his thigh. “You can read my mind! You lied to me.”

“No, I never said I couldn’t read your mind. I said I could read people, and that’s the truth.” He stroked her shoulders, then gently moved her arm back onto the table.

She pulled against the invisible bonds that took hold.

“Relax. Close your eyes.”

She did as he asked, not wanting to fight him any longer. She hadn’t been this relaxed in ages, and it felt wonderful to let go. Maybe she could stay here for the rest of her life. No more rent, bills, jobs, or probation officers checking out her every move.

That would be my first wish, to have all my legal troubles disappear, to have my record wiped clean.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

“We need to have a rule about reading my mind.” She turned her gaze on him. “I don’t like it.”

“Did you ever go to a psychiatrist?”

She laughed derisively. “I had plenty of sessions while I was in rehab.” Thinking of rehab made her think of her parents, of them paying for the whole thing, even though it was court ordered. Of course, if the court had paid for it, they probably would have tacked the amount onto her fine.

He trailed his fingers up and down her arm, the sensation soft and calming. “I want you to remember one good thing from your childhood, something you enjoyed very much.”

“Well, Dr. Paran, there’s nothing, so let’s not go there.”

“Absolutely nothing? I don’t believe you.”

Images of cleaning the lamp pushed into her mind, when she’d thought of her mother’s storytelling. “My mother used to tell me anything was possible. She lied.”

“No, you’ve just lost faith in yourself. Anything is possible. You can overcome past hurts and mistakes. It may take a while, but it’s possible.”

“Bull. Once you’ve screwed things up as much as I have, you can’t go back. Society won’t allow it. And my mother just told me those things to keep me happy when I was a kid. When I needed her, she wasn’t there.”

“Tell me one good thing.”

“Let me go.”

“Tell me.”

“No. I won’t play your game.”

His eyes narrowed and he moved between her legs, trailing his fingers up and down her inner thighs.

Her body zinged in response. “Well, I guess there is an upside to having a genie, huh? Good sex? At least I’ll get something out of this besides your stupid head games.”

“I am not a genie. I’m going to find some way to drill that into your brain. I’m a pleasure Djinni.” He lowered his head, opened her lips and licked her clit, the ball from his tongue piercing sliding over her, leaving exquisite pleasure in its wake.

Moreen’s hips shot off the table. She wanted to touch him, to grasp his hair and hold him in place, grind him into her until she came. His tongue circled her, flicking over the hard bud, and more pleasure spread through her body. She remembered the orgasm he’d given her that afternoon, the way it made her feel. She was going to have it again. She was almost there.

Suddenly, his tongue disappeared.

“What are you doing?” She wiggled the lower half of her body at him. “Get back there. Don’t leave me like this.”

He floated up above her, sitting cross-legged. He looked anything but pleased. “Punishments come in many forms, and I’m very tired of hearing negative things come out of your mouth.”

His cock was still hard. When he grasped it tightly and started pumping, she jerked in an effort to get free.

“Stop it! Damn you!”

His gaze captured on hers. “You had a chance to play my game. All I asked for was one memory, something that made you smile. And you turned it into something nasty. Now I’m going to show you what happens when you don’t do as I say. I’m going to climax, and you’re not.”

She tried to look down, to watch him as he stroked himself, but she couldn’t break the lock he had on her. His eyes bore into hers, burning a path into her soul.

“You will learn to obey. You can’t even do the simplest of things.”

“Screw you! Let me go.”

He glanced down and her gaze followed his. She saw his swollen shaft wrapped tightly in his hand as it pumped hard and fast, his fingers stopping at times to toy with the ring that hung from the end, pulling it none too gently.

When his groans grew louder, she knew he was about to come.

She watched as his cum flowed out, listened as his cries of pleasure filled the air. He tugged on the ring several times as the last of the creamy liquid left his slit. Then he massaged the liquid into her breasts, the movements arousing her more. He tweaked her nipples and traced her areoles until she groaned.

“Please, please. Don’t leave me like this.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now, I’m going to transport you home. Don’t even think of playing with your clit, because you won’t be able to. When you decide to do as I say and give me one memory, then I’ll allow you to orgasm. But not before. Remember what I told you. I can be your greatest fantasy, or your worst nightmare. The choice is yours.”

The air shifted and they were standing in her living room, the dingy walls and ratty furniture made even more so after seeing the opulence of the Cave of Pleasure.

“You’re to report to work at four tomorrow afternoon,” Paran said. “If you decide to be a good girl and behave, all you have to do is think my name and I’ll be back.”

She picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it toward him, but he disappeared before it could make contact. She screamed in frustration, then did it once more just because it felt good.

Seconds later, there was a loud knocking on the door.

“Moreen? Are you all right?”

Mrs. Weinstein’s voice held more than a hint of fear. Moreen looked down, saw she was clothed, then quickly rushed to the door and opened it.

“I heard screaming.” Mrs. Weinstein looked over her shoulder, her concern evident on her face.

Moreen frantically searched for an excuse. “No, I just saw a mouse, that’s all.”

“A mouse? Oh my, how horrible. Should I send Chester over to find it for you?”

Moreen laughed even as she held back tears. It was just like her neighbor to try and make things better, even offering her cat to find the fake mouse. “No, that’s all right. You keep him there in case the mouse comes to visit you.”

“All right, well you let me know if I can do anything for you, promise?”

“Of course. Thanks for checking on me.”

“No problem dear, you know how much I like you.” Mrs. Weinstein patted Moreen’s cheek, then turned back to her own apartment.

Moreen slowly closed the door, then let the tears fall. Her body ached for release. She put her hands between her legs, only to have her fingers feel as if they had been lit on fire. She pulled them back, swallowing her cry so that she didn’t disturb Mrs. Weinstein again.

Another try produced the same results.

“Bastard!” She wrapped her arms around her chest, determined not to follow his directions. Surely the need would pass. Besides, what good did it do to remember happy things when nothing would come of it? It could only remind her of everything she’d lost, and of the fact that she was destined to live the rest of her life alone.

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Paran was indeed her worst nightmare come to life. And once again, she could trace the problem right back to Aliya. She should have kept the damn wallet, spent all the cash and sold the credit cards. It would have served the bitch right, and kept Paran out of her life.