He was the last of the three passengers to take his seat in the cabin. He was like the golden Adonis, and he obviously knew it. Bronzed skin, eyes the color of the ocean, dimpled cheeks, and blond hair brushed to the back of his head, he seemed to have an exaggerated sense of self-worth.
“I’ll hang that for you, Mr. Savory,” Madison said, a broad smile on her face.
She took his garment bag, placed it in the closet, and returned with a tray bearing three glasses of champagne and three glasses of orange juice. He reached out and chose a glass of orange juice, murmured a half-hearted “thank you,” but never looked up at her. Thank god, the other two passengers were friendlier than Mr. Grumpy. As the night wore on, no matter how hard she tried, he continued to treat her in an offhanded manner. She was sure he was just a company employee who was traveling on company business, but in his conceited mind believed he was the owner. She had met a few passengers like him during her sixteen years working as a flight attendant. She never allowed them to get under her skin, but tonight, Mr. Savory was doing just that.
* * * *
Rules dictated that she could not ignore him forever, so she summoned up her courage and approached his seat. This time he immediately looked up at her, and staring at her name tag, he addressed her for the first time that night.
“Please, call me Ken.”
“May I get you something?”
“What do you have to offer?”
“I gave you a menu at the beginning of the flight. It tells you what we have for you tonight.”
He rummaged around him but couldn’t find the menu.
“Would you like something to drink, or maybe a snack since you didn’t have any dinner?”
He said he hadn’t been hungry, but now decided on a selection of sandwiches and a glass of red wine. As she was about to walk away, he called out to her.
“Madison,” he said, meeting her gaze, “why do I have the feeling that you don’t like me very much?”
She smiled before replying to his very forthright question.
“Whatever gave you that impression, sir?”
“Ken,” he reminded her.
“Why do you think I don’t like you, Ken?”
“I’ve noticed how friendly you are to the other passengers, but never to me.”
“You seemed busy most of the time, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”
He lifted the computer away from the tray table, placed it to the side, and looked up at her.
“I’m no longer busy, Madison,” he said, flashing her one of the sweetest smiles. “Sit and talk to me.”
“I’m not allowed to sit, but I’ll stand here and talk to you if you like.”
“Well, let’s start all over again. Hello, Madison,” he said, extending his hand.
“Hello, Ken,” she replied, taking his hand.
It was warm and soft. She was sure he had never done any kind of manual labor. When he smiled, she noticed that he had the most beautiful pair of kissable, sculpted lips. His medium-length strawberry-blond hair had become a little ruffled, so he wasn’t that perfect after all. His prominent jawbones looked as though they had been sculpted by Michelangelo. She couldn’t help but stare at the movement of his lips as he spoke to her. She learned that he was on his way to London for a television interview at one of the leading broadcast stations. He was there to speak about the television industry and the comparison between the United States and Great Britain.
* * * *
“This is not a come-on, and I hope you’ll believe me. You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve seen on this run in a very long time, but then, I don’t notice very much. I usually sleep from just after takeoff until the aircraft lands in London.”
Ken Savory was friendly and most of all, he was a gentleman, and she felt a little unsettled by the treatment she had meted out to him earlier in the flight. At this point, he gathered up his overnight bag and disappeared behind the bathroom door. He stepped out ten minutes later, looking refreshed and casting off a hint of sandalwood.
“I was about to come through with the duty-free articles,” Madison said. “If you need anything, there’s a leaflet in your seat pocket.”
“I’ll have a look. Could you bring me a glass of juice?” he asked, ever so politely, and with that smile that almost melted her heart.
“Of course,” she replied.
He was perusing the duty-free leaflet when she brought him the glass of juice.
“I need your help, Madison. Can you recommend a perfume for a young lady, about your age?”
“It has nothing to do with age. It all depends upon your wife’s taste.”
“I don’t have a wife, Madison.”
“Well then, you haven’t paid enough attention to what your girlfriend wears.”
“Don’t have one of those either.”
Was he trying to tell her something? Whatever he was thinking, he never did reveal it to her.
“Well, I like Chanel. I think a lot of women like that fragrance.”
He chose a bottle of Coco by Chanel and put it into the pocket of his briefcase.
The aircraft landed with a thud and finally came to a stop at the terminal. Madison delivered the passengers’ coats and stood at the door to say goodbye.
“Thank you for a lovely flight, Madison,” Ken Savory said.
He stepped out the aircraft door and handed her a little package along with his business card.
“For you,” he said, and hurried up the gangway.
She stared after him and then at the business card, and looking inside the package, she saw the bottle of Coco by Chanel perfume he had bought earlier.
“And he didn’t give me a chance to thank him,” she said to her co-worker.
Shit! Her thoughts revolved in her head. What’s he going to do to me? This is what I wanted, but not under these conditions.
“I promised to teach you about my life,” he said softly. “The time has come, Madison, for me to show you what I’m all about.”
Her body shook and her hands became clammy. The music clanged in her ears.
“There’s nothing to fear. I won’t hurt you. You wanted to know all about my hidden side, and this is your chance. Threesomes? BDSM? What is your pleasure?”
She looked around her, wondering if he had lost his marbles, but thought it better to remain quiet.
“I’m not crazy, Maddie,” he said as if reading her mind. “I’m a man with a very vivid imagination.”
“What are you going to do to me? I have been honest with you. I could’ve kept it a secret, but I thought I should come clean.”
“I thought you were different from all the other women who’ve passed through my life. Do you think that telling me you slept with one of my friends would make a difference? The deed has already been done.”
“That’s unfair, Stephan. I told you all about it right after it happened.”
“You never said it was with Ken Savory. I forgave your infidelity, but sleeping with one of my friends is unacceptable.”
“No buts!” he shouted.
He pulled a white sheet from a drawer and covered the bed.
“White,” he whispered close to her ear. “It’s the sign of purity. Something you’re not, Madison.”
Those words hurt her to the core, but she had brought it all on herself.
* * * *
“Under normal circumstances, I would blindfold you because it heightens the experience, but this is a very unusual situation. You are mine and you belong to me, Madison. Every part of your body belongs to me and no one else. I’m the only man who holds your every little pleasure in my hand, and the only man allowed to bring you to an orgasm.”
He walked away, pulled out a drawer, and turned to face her. In one hand he held Brutus, and in the other there were contraptions she had never seen.
Her eyes grew wide, and her gaze followed him until he stood before her.
He placed it at the foot of the bed, along with the unknown contraptions and walked off again behind her. This time he went to his wall of instruments to select paddles, testing them on his palm.
Madison was unable to turn her head to see what he was doing, but she could hear the gentle slap as he tested each paddle on his palm.
* * * *
He had made his decision, and returned to her, a strange look in his eyes. The cymbals continued to clang and the sounds of the Bolero symphony filled the room, and looking at her naked body, he wanted her to not only hear those instruments, but to feel him jamming to them inside her body. She liked it rough, and tonight he was more than willing to accommodate her. As he walked toward her, all he could envision was her and Ken together in the throes of ecstasy.
“You liked this game when we played it before,” he said, running the paddle up and down her thigh, close to her center, before moving it away again.
Her body stiffened as she stared from the instrument back to his face.
“Stephan,” she whispered.
“Yes, Maddie,” he replied in a gentle voice. “Have you something to say?”
“If I hurt you, I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t hurt me. You disappointed me, but I still love you despite what you’ve done.”
“My hands are tired,” she said, struggling against her fetters. “Please release me.”
“That will happen very soon, Maddie, but first we’ve got a little game to play. I want you to think of the word. Regret! Will you remember it?”
She stared at him without replying.
“Do you know why I have chosen that word, Madison?”
“Good. You know you must use it if things are getting out of control.”
She stared at the paddle in his hand. She knew she had messed up, but there was a way out, she thought. Should she use the word before he started? No, she had already been unfaithful, and adding cowardice to the equation wouldn’t be helpful.
“What is the word, Madison?”
“Regret,” she whispered.
She was about to protest when a blow struck her rear end. Smack! Her body jolted forward and she cried out. Smack! The paddle landed on the other cheek. This time her body stiffened and she closed her eyes tightly.
“Open your eyes, Maddie. Now! I want you to see everything I’m doing to you.”
Laying the paddle down beside Brutus, he stood behind her, and with his palm facing upward, he thrust his right hand between her thighs, spanning her complete mound of curls. He eased his middle finger backward and thrust it into her pussy, allowing the other four fingers to sprawl across her mound. She cried out as he moved that finger in and out of her warm channel, while her clit became the recipient of an unintended massage.
“Who owns this?” he shouted.
“You do,” she murmured, the excitement causing her juices to flow freely.
“Then you cannot give away something that’s not yours, and you have done it.”
“Oh god,” she murmured. “’I’m so sorry, Stephan.”
* * * *
Another lash connected to her already red backside, and he kept on administering those blows until he had lost count. Still she did not use the safe word he had given her. Her backside stung from the blows, and she was relieved when it ended. Stephan climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her, spreading those two rosy cheeks. He gently rubbed the crisscross pattern of welts on her behind, and when that was over, he circled each bruise with his warm tongue until she mewled with contentment.