David felt a knot in his stomach and an ache in his groin and a confusion of emotions in his mind. What on earth was he doing here at Isabella Stern’s address at this time of night? What was he doing here at all for that matter? He barely knew the woman, for crissakes; although, he knew enough to be aware that she was married. That in itself ought to have deterred him from coming here but it hadn’t. He knew that she was heavily into kinky sex too. That should have deterred him as well, shouldn’t it? Shouldn’t it?

David felt dog tired all of a sudden, drained of all strength, and sick of himself for being so weak-willed as to have come here in the first place. He felt frightened too, couldn’t stop himself from trembling. But it wasn’t too late. All he needed to do was to go back to his car and drive home, nothing could be simpler. He was sorely tempted to do just that too, and he went so far as to feel in his jacket pocket for his car keys. But he didn’t pull them out. Instead his fingers came out of his pocket as if of their own accord and punched at the entry panel. And that was when the die was cast; that was when his fate was irreversibly sealed.

What if, he used to say to himself afterwards, what if he had known then, by means of some strange quirk of chronology, what was going to happen to him? What would he have done? Turned around and got in the car and gone home again? Because if ever there had been a point at which he could have changed things, it had been when he’d been gazing at that entrance panel, trying to decide whether to go home or to press for entry. But ‘What ifs’ didn’t help at all; they were irrelevant. The fact is that he did what he did; and, from that point on, he was lost.

The next few moments passed as if in a dream; and, suddenly, he found himself in a big, high ceilinged living room filled with pristine antiques, rare china, fine oil paintings, and gilded mirrors. The room was very imposing but then so too was the imperious raven haired beauty in high stiletto-heeled boots and a skin-tight cat suit who had let David into the property and before whom he was now standing.

That exquisite black leather outfit accentuated Isabella Stern’s shapely form exceptionally well, molding itself beautifully to her perfect curves. Indeed, everything about Isabella was perfectly formed. She was truly stunning to behold, and she conveyed such a powerful image of dark desirability and dominance that it made David’s blood race through his veins. Her lustrous shoulder length hair was forest-dark. Her large, shining eyes had a strikingly Asiatic cast and – just as strikingly – were as black as coal. She had luminescent white skin by contrast, and a wide, sensuous mouth. Her sleek, exquisitely shaped body moved with a feline insolence, cat-like indeed in the tight leather cat suit that clung to it like a second skin.

She had an extraordinary presence too, a regal bearing, a poise and elegance that immediately commanded respect; although, the expression she was wearing on her face right then was cold and cruel. In fact, she looked incredibly cruel. In truth, she looked, at that instant, essentially what she was: a predatory bitch-goddess, an extraordinarily sadistic femme fatale, a leather-clad dominatrix from Hell. David couldn’t possibly have known the amazing depths of her sadism and depravity, not then. But he did know that she scared him to death… and excited him immensely. A sudden shiver of fear ran through him and connected to his cock, giving him an erection that pressed uncomfortably against his pants.

Isabella hadn’t said anything when she’d let David in; she had just led him through to her luxurious living room. She remained silent now. As for David, he couldn’t say anything, couldn’t stop shaking either. He knew instinctively and without doubt that what was about to happen to him was going to change his life forever, that he was going to emerge from this encounter a different man.

Isabella stared at him, her black eyes hypnotic, her lips so sensuous that he yearned to kiss them; but, of course, he didn’t dare do any such thing. His heart was pounding like crazy, and he felt barely able to breathe. The silence in the room became deafening; but, still, she didn’t say a word, nor did he.

Then she did finally speak. “Strip naked for me,” she commanded, staring into his blue eyes. He immediately obeyed, taking off all his clothing in double-quick time. He tried to control his shaking but couldn’t. He tried to control his sexual excitement, too, but he couldn’t do that either. His cock was rigidly erect now and pulsing constantly. Isabella looked him up and down; her sinful black eyes moving hotly over his body as he waited, waited for her first touch. But she was in no hurry. Her eyes lingered on his skin, disturbing and exciting him more and more. She strode round him in a slow circle, seeming to examine every detail of his fine, toned body until she’d completed her circle and was standing in front of him again.

Still she didn’t touch him, though, simply kept looking at him. But what a look! Her shining eyes were as intense as search lights, and David was now irrevocably caught in their beam as she gazed directly into his eyes. Nobody had ever looked at him like that before. He could feel her dark, beaming eyes boring into him, tormenting him with desire. His body cried out for her touch, and he couldn’t stop shaking. But, still, she kept staring and staring into his eyes. And that piercing, hypnotic stare had the strangest effect on him. It made him feel as if he was starting to be transformed right there and then into another person, not himself.

When David thought back, he was sure that it was at this point in his visit that Isabella had begun to hypnotise him or brainwash him or whatever the hell it was she’d gone on to do. He remembered that she had only been gazing at him in that amazingly intense way for a short while before he got the weird sensation that he was beginning to be transformed. Then something happened to the focusing mechanism of his own eyes. Everything blurred and disappeared for what seemed like only a moment. But when his vision reasserted itself and he readjusted his eyes to the reality of the world, that world seemed to have shifted on its axis, and he was no longer the man he’d once been. He was someone else.

At last Isabella averted her hypnotic gaze from David’s eyes. He took the opportunity to glance down, to reassure himself that he was still there, to check whether she had exchanged him in some way for somebody else. It was the same body he’d arrived in. But, somehow, that didn’t help because he felt different inside his own skin.

Isabella reached out her hand in the direction of David, or the person who resembled him as closely as if he was his identical twin. She lightly moved her fingers with agonising slowness over his mop of dark hair and down the sculptured cheeks of his handsome face to the muscular contours of his arms and his chest. He could feel his heart beating hard, could hear his breathing coming faster as she moved her hand tantalisingly further south before taking hold of his erection and squeezing it. That touch was like an electric jolt; it made him gasp and nearly climax.

She slapped his cock away from her dismissively. “Kneel before me,” she demanded, her voice as hard as a hammer hitting a nail, and down onto his knees he went without even thinking. He felt faint with excitement as he waited for her next move; he was still shaking. His heart was pounding. His breathing had become even more laboured. She moved behind him again so that he couldn’t see her. Then he couldn’t see anything as he felt the leather blindfold cover his eyes and felt her buckle it into place behind his head. Then nothing. He could see nothing, could hear nothing. He didn’t know where she was now. He didn’t know where he was really, he felt as if he was in some strange, erotic limbo land.

But he knew where he had been less than an hour ago when he’d gotten her call. He had been in his own house, near the center of Brighton, and he’d been fresh out of the shower. “Are you on your own?” she’d said, and he had replied that he was. What could he do for her? he’d asked.

“Get yourself over to my place now,” had been her reply.

And here he was at her place, naked and blindfolded and on his knees, shaking like a leaf and breathing heavily. And he was more sexually aroused than he’d ever been in his entire life.

He was shaking more than ever now, and he could feel spasms of desire shuddering through his body. His breathing had become short and shallow. His cock was steely-hard and throbbing fit to burst.

Isabella! How he wished he could see her, hear her voice, feel her touch on his skin, this woman he barely knew but to whom, in some inexplicable way, he now felt he belonged.

Time stretched like infinity and all was complete silence, not a word from her, not a sound. He couldn’t even hear her breathe any more. It was eerie. Then he heard her moving behind him and everything in him stopped: his heart, his breathing, even his thinking– that is, until he felt her fingers on the back of his neck. Then his imagination suddenly went into complete overdrive. What in hell’s name was she going to do next? Trail her fingers down his back before, what, hand-spanking him? Or would she take a belt to him instead, or a whip, or a paddle? Would she beat him really hard, beat him black and blue? 

But Isabella did none of these things. Instead, she brought her fingers up from his neck to the back of his head and unbuckled his blindfold. “Get dressed and go home now,” she said, her voice icy cold. “When I want to see you again, I’ll call you. Don’t ever call me.”

And that was that. It was over.

In what seemed like no more than the blink of an eye, David found himself back on the street, walking like an automaton towards his car in the sulphur glow of the street lights. She’d done nothing to him, nothing. Yet, already, he’d started waiting for Isabella Stern’s next call, and he knew that he would be unable to put her out of his mind for even a moment until he heard from her again.

 He felt that he belonged to Isabella now. She could do anything she wanted to him. He would obey all her instructions, follow her anywhere, and submit to any of her demands, no matter how extreme they might be, no matter how sadistic. But this was all complete madness, wasn’t it? Madness heaped upon madness. Where were these demented thoughts coming from? He simply had no idea. She’d done nothing to him. Isabella had hardly touched him – physically, that is; but mentally, oh dear, that was a very different matter.

He didn’t understand the dramatic, the profound, the sinisterly bewitching effect she’d had on him; he didn’t understand it at all. It terrified him and it aroused him in equal measure; he was still rock-hard when he climbed into his car. Isabella Stern was some sort of demonic force he was powerless to resist, was that it? Or had she hypnotised him in some devilish way, put him under her satanic spell? Or was it a perverse combination of the two? It was all completely irrational, this skewed way of thinking, utter lunacy; but if anyone had tried to tell David that, he wouldn’t have taken any notice.

There was no logical explanation for why he should feel the way he did, but he knew – just knew – that he belonged to Isabella now, belonged to her completely. It wasn’t a rational thing at all. It was a visceral thing; he felt it in his gut, felt it to the very depth of his being. He felt it more deeply than he’d ever felt anything before.

David Alexander was indeed lost, lost in some dark, ungodly place where he was now at the mercy of one of the darkest, most devouring predators imaginable. Isabella Stern was the devil in human form, that’s what some people said about her. If that was so, she’d just made David Alexander her most devoted disciple yet.