Carina falls further under James' overwhelming spell.
Chapter 3
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I opened my eyes and it took a second to orient where I was in the room. I had this dreamy, floaty feeling. And as I stretched within my sheets memories came back from last night, I blushed and heated at the same time. I was still feeling the night before and the thought of how intensely I came just with his voice made me wet when I thought about what was in store tonight.
All day at work, I thought about our date. What would the art be like? Did he know the artist? Would he come home with me again? Would we go to his place? The day seemed to drag by and when five o'clock came around I tore out of the office leaving my team to carry any late night workload that may come our way.
I showered, shaved, and got myself ready for him. I was excited to go to a art gallery opening and felt nervous about such a sophisticated date. Truth be told, I was excited to see James and my mind went wild with what I imagined could happen at the end of the night. My mind thought of many possibilities and scenarios, all ending with me in orgasm. I had been in a constant state of arousal all day and even my black lace panties were wet underneath my sheath dress with a low neckline and funky scarf I decided to wear for the night.
When the knock at my door finally came, I took a huge breath before opening it, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. James looked amazing at my threshold, wearing jeans, t shirt and well cut jacket. As his eyes traveled over my body, his smile lit up his expression.
"Hi, Beautiful."
"Hi" I said breathlessly. He took my hand and leaned in to kiss me on the very corner of my lips. A chaste kiss but it seemed more intimate than if he had just kissed my cheek. I felt it all the way down.
"Are you ready to go?" He asked. I nodded and went to grab my purse and keys. I tried to clear my head, just that simple touch had my thoughts scattered. I wondered how I would get through the night.
In the car, James held my hand, then started to play with the gauzy scarf around my neck. "You really do look beautiful tonight, and I like this scarf," he said as his fingers played with it's soft fringe near my neckline, "it gives me ideas." His eyes looked into mine, and my breath caught. I bit my lip trying to keep it from trembling.
It wasn't long before we arrived in front of the art gallery. He pulled me from the car, but navigated me away from the entrance. Pulling me down an alleyway, he pushed me against the brick of the building and kissed me breathless. "Take off your panties," he said against my lips.
My eyes snapped open, "Here? Out in the open."
"Yes, pet. Do this for me"
My eyes scanned my surroundings. We were in a darkened alley, I thought quickly was likely best. So I hooked my finger under my dress and quickly pulled down my thong. I was embarrassed to think it was likely damp. He held out his hand and I placed the scrap of fabric in it. He balled up his fist and brought it to his nose. My eyes went wide at both the act and how he closed his eyes and inhaled. A rumble from his chest letting me know how much he liked my scent.
"I don't know how I am going to get through this night with you," he murmured. Expressing my inner thoughts exactly. "Pet, you need to let me know if what you find inside gets to be too much," he warned.
Adrenaline shot through me, "what was inside? I thought this was an art gallery? But before I could ask he slipped my panties in his front pocket of his jeans and pulled me from the alley toward the front door.
As we walked through the door, I definitely got the impression of an art gallery: white walls, cement floor, warehouse ceiling and bright track lighting hung to illuminate the black and white photography that were in varying sizes in the distance. The place was crowded but not packed. I was puzzled by James' comment just before. What did he think could be too much for me?. Directly across the entrance, behind a reception desk, was a quote on the wall, "Someday I hope my art will work," by Jim Duvall. There were collections of rope, wrapped in figure eight like patterns and tied in the middle like you would see stored on a boat, hanging next to those words.
James took my hand and pulled me into the gallery, he kept stealing glances at me. Was he trying to gauge my reaction? As we rounded the corner, I finally truly saw the first photograph...and it was exquisite.
The photo had been blown up to be almost the entire size of the wall we were looking at, over 6 feet tall. Her back was to us, her hair was up and off her neck. Her arms were captured behind her back and the knots in the rope made a intricate dragonfly pattern along her spine. My eyes swooped around the room, and it dawned on me, all the photos were rope bondage scenes.
"What is this?" My throat dried up as I looked over again at James. He was watching me, waiting for my reaction.
"It is the art of Kinbaku. Japanese rope tying. It is a beautiful form of bondage and the art is in the knots and positioning of the body." He said that all very matter-of-fact, with little expression on his face. Was he scared I would run, be turned off? My eyes shot around the room, i couldn't seem to take it all in and settle on one image. LI felt out of my depth but extremely turned on.
He walked me around to another set of photographs. This time the naked woman was suspended, with one leg tied at an angle, almost like a flamingo stands. For some reason the thought of Dega's ballerinas came to mind. I learned in Art History class he used to have them hold a bar over their head so they could hold the pose while he painted. She seemed suspended in an impossible position.
I saw provocative poses, some looked sexual, like they were waiting for their lover, bound for his use. Others just looked...well uncomfortable. Thinking of comfort, I was reminded that my panties were in his pocket, so there was nothing to stop the wetness I felt between my thighs. I wondered if he did this on purpose to put me off-balance.
James bent down to whisper in my ear, "How are you feeling, Carina?" Again his expression giving nothing away, but I got the feeling he was more interested in my reactions than the artwork itself.
"Is this what you want to do to me?," the thought escaped my lips before I reminded myself to put in my brain-to-mouth filter. That sexy grin returned, he was amused at my discomfort, " No, Beautiful, this takes too much...patience. Though you would look amazing as one of these models. I am not a practitioner and would never let another touch you as required for this. Come on, I will get you a drink." He led me over to another set of photos and walked off to stand in line for the bar nearby.
I was relieved. I didn't like how uncomfortable some of the models looked strung and positioned asymmetrically. But the thought of being bound for his use definitely was turning me on.
This new set of photos were captivating, they were pictures of the models' body after the ropes were removed, showcasing the impression of the ropes left in the skin. For some reason I found the patterns beautiful and wistfully thought the art had "left its mark"
I felt like I was in a daze. I hoped my expression didn't let on how much I felt like a tourist in a foreign land. I started to look at those in attendance. To my surprise, they were a mix of what looked to be wealthy sophisticated socialites and those who wore much more provocative clothing, some even with collars. I was caught staring at one women who wore a black top so sheer it did little to hide her pierced braless nipples which had a fine chain stretched between them. She pushed her breasts out toward me as she caught me staring, proudly displaying them. My own nipples tightened in response.
