Thought that I’d give you all a tease after writing about how L’Escalier came to be in my previous post- From my Blackened Mind: Dark Days. I really hope you like it! Enjoy!
Warning: There is some profanity and sexual situations in this story. This is your forewarning.
Teaser from L’Escalier du Diable
Written by J. Marie Ravenshaw
The incessant clack, clack, clack, of Ronnie’s boots grated on Jenna’s nerves. She’d been to a couple BDSM clubs in the States. There was no alcohol allowed, rules were enforced. Here, she wasn’t so sure.
“Ronnie, I’m gettin’ nervous.”
Ronnie stopped dead in her tracks. She turned around and cupped Jenna’s cheek in the palm of her hand. “Why? There’s no reason to be nervous. You’re with me. No one can mess with my property unless I give them permission and I’m not giving permission.”
Jenna searched Ronnie’s eyes. When she was satisfied with what she saw there, she nodded and said, “I trust ya’ Ronnie.”
Ronnie dropped her hand. “Alright then, let’s go and see what this club is all about.”
She spun on her heel as she grabbed onto Jenna’s hand and continued the walk down the dark alleyway.
There was no line, just a darkened alley with one lit light bulb above a non-descript door. Next to the door was a brass plaque that read: L’ESCALIER DU DIABLE. With exception to the dripping and scurrying noises of the cobblestoned passage, it was silent as the grave.
Jenna gestured to the door. “Dis’ can’t be it.”
Ronnie turned toward her, hands on hips. “And why not?”
Jenna sighed, shaking her head she mumbled, “Jus’ don’t seem right.”
“What doesn’t seem right?”
“Jus’ don’t feel right.”
“C’mon Jen, how’s it supposed to feel? Comfortable? Like every other club in the U.S.? Got news for ya’ babe, we’re not in the U.S. We’re on foreign soil, it’s gonna feel different.”
“I’ll take yer’ word for it.”
On that note, Ronnie raised her hand and knocked sharply on the door. She was just about to knock again when a peep hole on the door slid open and framed a pair of the bluest eyes Jenna had ever seen.
A deep masculine voice reverberated against the door, “Qui se trouve présent?”
“Mon nom est Ronnie et c’est Jenna mon soumis.” Ronnie said this as she gestured to Jenna.
“Que voulez-vous?”
She smiled coyly and practically purred, “Nous sommes venus pour jouer entièrement des États-Unis.”
He laughed, a rich baritone that just made you want to laugh with him, “Ah…donc vous êtes l’américain. Parlez-vous le français couramment?”
“Un petit peu, pouvez-vous parler l’anglais s’il vous plaît?”
“Oui,” his eyes darted toward Jenna. In a heavily accented voice he said, “Hallo ma petit.” then closed the peep hole. Ronnie glanced back at Jenna and shrugged.
The door opened. The man smiled coyly, showcasing a dimple in his right cheek. He was tanned from head to toe. His chestnut hair was tucked behind his ears. In a sweeping motion the man gestured them in as he asked, “Are you both ready to walk the staircase of the demon?”
Jenna’s eyes scanned him from head to toe. The man had almost nothing on at all. All he wore was a black leather kilt with nail head accents. He really didn’t need to wear anything at all. He was chiseled from head to toe, but not overly so. From his pecks to his well defined six pack, his toned thigh and calf muscles…it was very apparent that this man loved his body.
Ronnie raised her brow and smiled seductively as she stepped into the doorway, “But of course we’re ready.” she trailed a fingernail across his chest as she passed. He watched every move she made, his eyes finally fixated on her back side as she disappeared into the darkened hall.
Jenna hesitated outside the door. The man noticed and held out his hand. “Come ma petit, we won’t bite unless you ask for us to.” He flashed his pearly whites.
Jenna bit her lip, wringing her hands. She knew better than to touch another person. She was to answer to Ronnie and only Ronnie.
Ronnie finally noticed that Jenna wasn’t following her. She glanced at the doorman, who upon noticing her, immediately pulled back his outstretched hand. Ronnie held out her hand as she glared at the man, “C’mon Jen, we’re goin’ inside now.”
Jenna ducked her head and placed her hand in Ronnie’s. Ronnie gave her hand a little squeeze and tugged her forward. With that little gesture, Jenna exhaled a breath that she wasn’t aware she’d been holding. The man flashed a quick grin and flattened himself against the open door.
As they passed, he looked into Jenna’s eyes and said, “Soyez bienvenus à l’escalier du démon…où vous vivrez votre fantaisie pour toujours…” His eyes flashed a deep, fathomless black. She blinked, shook her head, and stared back at him. His eyes were the bright blue she had seen just moments ago. ‘Jus’ seeing things…nerves.’ Ronnie continued dragging Jenna down the stairway as the man’s salacious laughter echoed down the rough stone stairway after them.
‘Toujours means always, right? Or is it forever? Jus’ what have we gotten ourselves into?’
~~~
The stairway was lit with dim candlelight in rough hewn alcoves, but there was no light at the end of the tunnel that they could see. It seemed as if the stairway would never end. Jenna’s eyes darted around, instinctively looking for an exit. The walls seemed to be closing in around her.
Jenna’s heart was racing, her breathing was shallow, and her palms were moist against Ronnie’s. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were trapped. Ronnie must have noticed that she was panicking because she stopped abruptly and pushed Jenna against the jagged stone wall.
Jenna’s eyes darted everywhere, looking around and right through Ronnie. Ronnie cupped both of her cheeks and forced Jenna to look her in the eyes. “Jen…Jen breathe! Look at me!”
Jenna was shaking, her upper lip glistened in the dim candlelight and her knees threatened to give out. “Jen!! Look at me!” Ronnie reared back and slapped Jenna across the face, hard. “SNAP OUT OF IT JEN!” Jenna gazed into Ronnie’s eyes. She was biting her lip, and had tears streaming down her face. Ronnie gently brushed her fingers along Jenna’s jawline. “Come back to me Jen.”
“I’m…‘ere…Ronnie,” Jenna said between sobs.
Ronnie smiled and wiped the tears away from her friend’s cheek. “Good…good hun. Glad to have you back. I think I know what you need.”
“Wha-..”
Ronnie shushed Jenna and started to dig into her bag. She pulled out the black locking cuffs and chain. “You need to feel safe, and I know how I can do that.”
Ronnie backed off and commanded, “On your knees, arms out, wrists up.”
Jenna’s eyes widened before she said, “Yes mistress.” Jenna ducked her head and fell to her knees on a rough stone stair. She held her arms out with her wrists turned up. Ronnie fastened one cuff and then the other.
The roughened material of the cuffs digging into her sensitive skin sent a shiver up and down Jenna’s spine. She smiled as she heard the familiar click and the tinkling of metal on metal. Ronnie wrapped her fingers around the chain that connected Jenna’s wrists.
“Do you hear that?”
Jenna almost looked up at Ronnie, but caught herself before she lifted her eyes, “Mistress?”
“Shh! Listen…” Ronnie whispered.
Jenna strained to hear what Ronnie was hearing but to no avail. She didn’t hear a thing.
“We must be getting close. Let’s get moving, now!” Ronnie tugged the chain roughly and pulled Jenna off balance causing her to lunge forward.
Ronnie pulled the chain taut and prevented Jenna from falling flat on her face. When Jenna was safely on her own two feet, Ronnie stepped down a step and tugged the chain. “Come now slave, we’ll see what this club is all about.”
Jenna exhaled slowly and followed Ronnie. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor in front of her. Ronnie was right though, they must have been getting closer. She finally heard what Ronnie was hearing. The further they went, the louder the pulsing sound became. A red light flashed on the stone walls ahead of them.
With each step they took, the trance music became louder, the bass reverberated through their bodies. Ronnie looked back at Jenna and smiled. Remembering herself, Jenna ducked her head. “No it’s alright. You can look at me.”
Jenna’s eyes slowly rolled up to meet Ronnie’s sparkling baby blues. “We are here for a good time. You will, however, be obedient to me. You will answer to me and only me. You will treat everyone that addresses you before me as if they do NOT exist. Do you understand me?”
“Yes Mistress.”
Ronnie nodded. “Good. You remember the word, right?”
“Yes mistress.”
“Good.”
~~~
They stood at the foot of the stairway. The walls surrounding them were so thick with condensation that they were dripping and forming a puddle beneath their feet. The pumping music was so loud that they weren’t able to hear each other. Ronnie tugged the chain and cocked her head to the right.
She led Jenna toward the music and into one of the largest caves she had ever seen. They stood motionless in the massive rough hewn stone archway gazing over the crowd.
The strobe lights bounced off faces, limbs, naked flesh, chains gleaming. It seemed as if the crowd was one big writhing body, all undulating, moving at the same time.
Jenna stood there, mouth agape. The beat of the music coupled with the sight of the crowd caused a familiar tightening low in her body. One glance toward Ronnie and she knew she felt the same way.
Ronnie turned toward Jenna as if in slow motion. Her eyes widened, she lifted a trembling hand to her brow, swiping the glimmering stray hairs out of her face she mouthed, “Oh…My…God.”
Jenna just nodded and swallowed visibly. The smell of sweat, leather, cologne, the distinctive smell of sex, and a faint metallic scent that lingered on the back of your tongue, wafted to their noses. It was…intoxicating.
Jenna exhaled a long shaky breath. She looked to her right and noticed a bar. She turned back toward Ronnie who lifted her hand in a drinking motion and raised a questioning brow. Jenna nodded in response.
Ronnie still gripped the chain between Jenna’s aching wrists as they walked up to the bar. Ronnie raised her brow at the bartender -who wasn’t wearing much more than the doorman- and started to raise her hand.
She would have ordered her normal vodka tonic but was surprised when the bartender flashed his gleaming white smile and placed two flaming shots on the bar in front of her.
She looked up at him, pursing her lips and knitting her brow. He shrugged with his hands out, a “wasn’t me” gesture. He stood there watching, waiting. Jenna looked down the length of the bar and noticed that all the patrons had the same drink.
Ronnie shrugged, released her grip on the chain, and handed Jenna a flaming shot. They lifted their glasses and looked back at the bartender who then encouraged them to drink it with a smile and a flick of his wrist. They blew out the flame, and tossed it back.
Jenna closed her eyes at the taste of it, pure ambrosia. It tasted like cherries, lingering on your tongue, climbing down your throat. It burned going down, but it was a good burn. She sucked at her teeth, tongue…she couldn’t get enough. One word echoed throughout her mind…More.
She slowly opened her eyes, licking her lips. She looked to the bartender who raised a brow, smiling seductively. He shook his finger in the air and mouthed, “No.”
Jenna stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief…she needed more. He put up one finger and mouthed, “One.”
She turned to Ronnie who looked just as dumbfounded as she felt. Ronnie reached out, grabbed onto the chain, and pulled Jenna toward her. Her eyes dropped down to Jenna’s lips. Jenna licked her full, pouty lips slowly in anticipation, a silent invitation. Jenna’s breath left her as Ronnie quickly leaned in and captured her lips with her own.
She played over Jenna’s lips masterfully, starting her exploration softly. Then it changed, becoming desperate. She couldn’t get enough, had to have more. Ronnie pressed her curves against Jenna and pinned her cuffed arms between them. A soft moan escaped Jenna, her eyes clamped shut tightly.
Ronnie sucked at Jenna’s lower lip, nipping. Tilting her head to the side, her tongue slid past Jenna’s lips. Ronnie’s hands caressed Jenna’s arms. Jenna shuddered in response, her eyes fluttering.
Their tongues met. Dancing, swirling, twisting, and exploring each other’s mouths. The cherry flavor was faint, but still present; they fed upon it, as if they would consume each other. Tasting each other fully, they sucked the sweet ambrosial liquid from tongues, teeth, lapping at the roof of each other’s mouths.
Ronnie pulled back slightly as her hands crept toward the nape of Jenna’s neck. Jenna, feeling her pull away, latched onto Ronnie’s lower lip. Ronnie grabbed onto Jenna’s ponytail and tugged roughly, breaking her seal. Jenna gasped, her neck bent at an uncomfortable angle.
Ronnie leaned forward and licked up Jenna’s throat languorously and nipped at her chin. Ronnie’s warm breath fluttered against her ear as she whispered in a roughened voice, “You forget yourself, slave.”
“Yes mistress.” Jenna breathed. Ronnie abruptly let her go, causing Jenna to stumble forward. Jenna turned back toward Ronnie, her chest heaving, eyelids fluttering, heart racing.
“Don’t let it happen again.” A slow smiled curled her lip, “Now, let’s dance.”
Ronnie handed the bartender her massive leather bag. She turned back to Jenna and wrapped her fingers around the silver chain to lead Jenna to the dance floor.
~~~
The crowd seemed to part as Ronnie led Jenna into the writhing masses. Her hips swayed to the electronic beat, her free arm moving back and forth in the air. Jenna’s eyes were transfixed on Ronnie’s ass, completely hypnotized by its rhythmic sway.
Ronnie turned around and pulled the chain slowly toward her. She leaned into Jenna and yelled, “I’m gonna let go, dance! Have fun!”
Jenna nodded. All she wanted to do was dance; to fall into the rhythm, the beat, the crowd. She closed her eyes and swayed, letting the music move her. The people around them writhing, undulating, and brushing up against them.
They danced until they were sore, sweat beading on their faces, hair sticking to their necks. Jenna’s sweat slick body slid against the thin vinyl of the cat suit, her nipples hardened to the point of pain, she unzipped the front a few inches; the sensations were just too overwhelming.
A scent, a coppery metallic scent, wafted to her nostrils. She opened her eyes searching for the source. She looked around. Nothing but naked bodies, couples fucking on the dance floor seemingly oblivious to the crowd surrounding them.
Distantly she saw a couple, the man pressed up against the wall face first. His hands stretched wide above his head, palms pressed against the rough walls of the cave, his legs spread. He wore nothing but a G-string. The woman was beating him relentlessly with what seemed to be a modified flogger. But the pattern it left behind…it left bloody welts. Jenna shuddered at the sight.
Then it occurred to her that dancing was not what she came here for. She wanted pain, craved it, longed for it. She was on the verge of dropping to her knees in front of Ronnie, abasing herself, when she spotted him.
He seemed to be more dressed than anyone else in the club. He wore a full length, zip front, leather trench coat, with red arcane embroidery. His chest was bare underneath it, the pale white skin was framed by the contrasting blackness of the coat. The flesh that was visible looked as if it could have been carved out of marble, chiseled. He wore a pair of black leather pants with buckles down the sides and heavy black leather biker boots.
He stood still among the ever moving crowd. His eyes were like green flame and never left Jenna’s. Even from this distance Jenna could feel him like a line of heat in her body. She could see his face in bold highlights, the strobes reflecting off the leather on his body. His hair, which can only be described as crimson red, slid like a soft cloud around his shoulders.
He was beautiful, though not a feminine beauty. An ethereal glow emanated from him…his skin, his eyes, even his smile. A familiar tightening low in her body…she wanted him, needed to be with him. Her fingers ached to touch him, caress the smooth line of his jaw, his neck, his chest. She distantly thought,‘Damn what was in that drink.’ It was then he smiled at her and started to walk toward her. It was as if he floated on air.
She stood there in the flickering darkness, with her mouth agape at the sight of him. Her heart beat into her throat as she waited for him to come to her. He finally stopped mere feet in front of her. He looked at her saying nothing. Everyone around them seemed to disappear. It was just the two of them gazing into each others’ eyes.
Jenna felt Ronnie sidle up behind her. She wrapped her arms around Jenna’s neck. With her curves pressed tightly against her back and her breath warm on her neck, she asked, “Who is this man, slave? Have you spoken to him?”
Jenna reluctantly dropped her gaze and bowed her head. “No mistress.”
“Good. You’re such an obedient little slave.” Ronnie licked up the side of Jenna’s neck; then, her eyes fixed on the man standing before them. She bit down on Jenna’s earlobe. Jenna shuddered; her knees weakened and she settled back into Ronnie’s warm body.
Ronnie released her earlobe and gazed into the man’s glowing green eyes. “What do you want?”
He looked into Jenna’s eyes and extended his hand as if he’d caress her cheek, but stopped just short. His eyes shifted to Ronnie, in a heavily accented voice he said, “I know what you came here for ma petite. I can give it to you both…if you just follow me.”
Jenna felt the eyes of the crowd upon them. Looking around she noticed that the people closest to them had stopped dancing and were now giving them their full attention. Their faces distorted, eyes black pits, teeth sharpened, becoming more grotesque in the strobe lights. Jenna’s heart sped up, she closed her eyes, willing the vision to go away. “Drinks affecting me.” she mumbled.
Jenna slowly opened her eyes and gazed out at the crowd surrounding them. Normal, they looked normal again. She swallowed nervously as she turned her attention back to the man standing in front of her.
He ducked his head so that his eyes would meet Jenna’s. He extended his hand to her as he said, “Please, join me. Join us.”
Jenna looked at his outstretched hand skeptically, ‘Could he really give us what we want?’
Ronnie’s warm breath fluttered against Jenna’s ear as she whispered, “If you want us to go with him, you have my permission to take his hand.”
Without hesitation, Jenna reached forward with both hands and wrapped her fingers around the man’s large, warm hand. Something like an electrical shock coursed through her entire body at their contact. She shuddered, her heart racing, chest heaving, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. The man drew her up against the hard planes of his body, he spoke into her ear, “Come now ma petite, Veronique and I will show you a good time.”
Surprised, she looked to Ronnie, a satisfied smile slowly spread across her face. Jenna’s eyes widened as a thought popped into her head, ‘Veronique? She knows im’!’ Then she remembered what Ronnie had said to her earlier, ‘Why? There’s no reason to be nervous. You’re with me. No one can mess with my property unless I give them permission and I’m not giving permission.’ She shook her head in disbelief.
The man released her, she gasped as he grabbed onto the chain stretched between her wrists roughly. He dragged her to the far side of the dance floor. All eyes were on them. People stopped dancing to turn and watch as they passed. He walked to the pounding beat of the trance music.
Jenna could feel the pressure of the crowd’s eyes upon her, boring holes into her. Her vision blurred, she stumbled and struggled to keep up with the mysterious man. She kept her head down, watching her feet as the man led her to a doorway. Stealing a quick glance back, she noticed that Ronnie followed closely, an evil smile spread across her face.
That’s all I’m givin’ ya’ … for now 😉
J. Marie Ravenshaw 