Page 12 of Chandelier Enthralled
I disappeared behind one of the full-length mirrors, entering a secret passageway—the same one I had designed to run between the walls of the sixth floor. It led to a private staircase.
I descended the stairs and slipped back into the great hall.
The base thumped as Beethoven morphed into modern tech in a hypnotic backdrop to the erotic central scene featuring Amelia, the submissive being showcased.
The three Doms sat beside each other on the long mahogany table. Amelia who was on her feet now, moved from one to the other, dipping her head between their thighs and sucking them off. Shiny cocks glistened in the dimness, shafts erect, the men eager and excitable. I sensed their bodies vibrated with energy, their minds spiraling with thoughts of the play and pleasure ahead.
They’d made themselves stars of the scene and knew what to bring to the moment.
Ironic that it had been me who had trained her about a submissive’s form, to be conscious with the way she appeared during a session. She was taking these skills and implementing them to perfection. Only not with me.
She focused between the thighs of the man in the center. He leaned back, resting on his elbows, and stared at the ceiling as she deep throated him, working him into a quiet frenzy. Her head bobbed, blue hair twinkling beneath the lights as she took him all the way to the back of her throat.
The men on either side watched them with interest, both stroking their dicks, waiting patiently for her mouth to find them again. Amelia lifted her head and moved towards the man on the left and bestowed to him the same level of attention. Her delicate hands rested on his thighs as her frenzied tongue lapped at his erection, and then she dipped her head to focus on his balls.
Her betrayal was a gift that kept on giving.
Revenge, it comes in many colors, hues as rich and varied as the tapestry of desire itself. For her, vengeance was a brush dipped in the darkest of desires, painting a portrait of seduction. She knew I’d hear of this. Gossip would find me and do its worst.
But right now, she had no idea I was here.
She was the queen, the one everyone admired beneath the glow of lights, untamed, and hungry for cock, as though she could never be sated.
Amelia was unwittingly fueling these flames of my own vengeance against Jewel, the one who now clearly owned her.
This session was both cruel and intoxicating.
I could leave. Not interfere. Let this exquisite pain blossom and then inspire me to burn down this place.
But she was at risk.
They were using her; there was no doubt.
A few guests had seen me, the mysterious masked figure at the back of the hall.
A man wearing this attire had the power to expel them all.
I had come here for one reason—to get her out.
Walking towards the table, I brought the scene to a swift end with a flick of my hand and a stern command to stop. Amelia ceased what she was doing and dropped to her knees, bowing before me. She knew to obey a master from the High Chamber.
The men sat up trying to gauge what was happening. One of them tucked his cock away, zipping his pants up with a struggle. The other two looked confused, unsure as to whether to tackle me or be worried they had done something wrong.
I ignored them.
“Come with me,” I told her, not caring that they would be left with no explanation as to why I’d ended their session.
Amelia followed me out.
I escorted her along the hallway in silence. The robe and mask I wore were a decent disguise—I didn’t want her bolting back into the hall to spite me.
I opened the door to the library and gestured for her to enter ahead of me, pointing towards the center of the room. She scurried over and knelt before me, fully aware that I’d come down from the sixth floor.
For her.
If nothing else, that alone should instill fear.
My beautiful former submissive knelt before me, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked up at me with curiosity infused with apprehension.
