by Cat Voleur
“What are you doing?” The question came from a surprised Delilah as she was ushered into one of the Moreau Manor’s spare bedrooms by her girlfriend, Genevieve. “We’re going to lose the tour group.”
Gen locked the door behind them and turned to her partner with that wicked grin of hers. “Forget about the group.”
“This tour was your idea. You wanted to hear firsthand what they were saying about the place. Besides, what if someone notices we’re gone?”
“Delilah,” Gen’s fingers deftly worked to undo the buttons of her blouse one by one as she stepped forward, slowly closing the gap between them. “Don’t worry about it. No one saw us. No one ever sees us. No one will come looking. It’s just you and me.” By the time she had finished talking the two of them were very close, and she had let her top fall to the floor which left her with nothing but a bra on above the waist.
Delilah’s cheeks flushed with color and out of habit she instinctively looked away from the silky fabric and the amazing shape of the woman under it. There was a part of her that still felt bad for staring – even after all this time. Her family had been strict when teaching her about their moral code. She had grown up believing that arousal was something she should never feel. Arousal at the sight of another woman in particular was something that had been beyond unspeakable.
If thinking about naked women could get her sent to Hell she didn’t dare to think where she’d go for all her carnal knowledge of Genevieve. She was proud to no longer believe in Hell or the God that she had been raised with – but the fear of her sexuality was too deeply ingrained to be so easily cast away. That was a fact that still showed itself far too often for her liking.
Genevieve was patient with her though, and had been right from the beginning. She understood to an extent, having been raised with many of the same religious ideals. The only difference was that she’d never believed in anything more than she’d believed in love – whether it be between a man and woman or a woman and anyone her heart chose to claim. For her, love had never been something that could be suppressed or dictated by any holy text. It was certainly not something she could ignore for anything as frivolous as gender.
She placed her hands on the side of Delilah’s face, gently guiding her gaze until their eyes met. Her expression was serious, but undemanding. Despite her adventurous and decisive nature, she had never pushed Delilah too far. “Do you still want to find the group?”
“No,” came her whispered reply.
“Good.” There was a glint in Gen’s eyes that Delilah knew and loved well. “Now, strip.”
The red in Delilah’s face deepened, but there was only the slightest flicker of doubt before she complied. She may still be lacking some when it came to confidence in her sexuality, but she knew that she could take orders well. She was a natural born submissive, and there was not a soul that she liked taking orders from more than Genevieve. Never disobeying was something that used to make her feel weak. Now, thanks to her girlfriend, she felt empowered for it.
She was left with only a moment to feel self-conscious about herself before the next instruction was given to her. “Now lie on the bed and close your eyes.”
This time there was no hesitation at all; she just climbed onto the bed and made herself comfortable on her back before closing her eyes.
She heard the rustling sounds that gave the vague impression of something being moved and she fought to keep herself from looking. Within a minute she could feel the weight of her partner climbing up to join her on the bed. She gasped softly at the feel of cold silk slinking around her wrist before her arm was drawn up and presumably secured to the bedpost. Sure enough as she felt silk being applied to the other side she found her first arm held in place above her head with the second arm soon to follow.
She relished in the feeling of handing over complete control to Gen, at being powerless in the hands of her lover. There was something about it that was indescribably relaxing to her and it wasn’t until her legs had been bound to the respective corners of the bed as well that she remembered where they were. Her eyes shot open in a sudden fit of nerves.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here.”
“Oh?” Gen raised an eyebrow, inquisitively.
Delilah soon realized the problem. It wasn’t like they had never done things in the famously haunted Manor before – in fact, it had been the location of nearly all their trysts. “I just mean that we should wait until the group leaves. Getting caught bound and naked by the entire haunted house tour is not my idea of a romantic evening.”
“We won’t get caught,” Gen replied before chuckling. “I do like that you let me tie you up and then asked me to wait. Maybe you just want to spend more time being teased?”
Delilah instinctively tried to cover herself at that, but was still held tight by her girlfriend’s clever knots. “I obviously didn’t intend for you to keep me like this while we’re waiting.”
“Are you sure?” Gen traced her fingers lightly over the contour of her inner thigh, meeting her gaze again. “Because I think I could think of a few interesting ways to pass the time with you here at my disposal like this.”
Delilah didn’t answer, but rather moaned softly and closed her eyes again. She knew right then she would give in completely and allow herself to succumb to the expert touch of her partner’s practiced fingers.
“I could tell you about the ghosts, if you like.”
This time Delilah opened her mouth to respond but it was at that moment that Gen gracefully slid the first finger inside her, and all that came out was a pleasured moan.
Smiling at the response her ministrations had elicited, Gen started with her story. “Hundreds of years ago, the house was owned by a Mr. and Mrs. Moreau. They were very wealthy, and they made arrangements for the house and everything in it to be passed down to their only daughter once she was married.”
Gen’s other hand pinched one of Delilah’s nipples while the first was still working its way in and out of her slowly, making her squirm in her restraints.
“Only Ms. Moreau never got married. They say that she was the most beautiful woman in town, and she attracted many, many suitors, but not a single one could win her heart. None of them could make her feel,” the hand on the nipple twisted lightly, “any sort of passion at all. She lived alone for many years before finding someone to share her life with. Someone who knew exactly what she needed and could make her feel all sorts of feelings that she didn’t even know existed.”
Delilah knew those passions well, was in fact experiencing them in that very instant. She cried out softly as her body shuddered in release. Perhaps the idea of being caught was more stimulating than she had imagined, for she couldn’t ever remember finishing that quickly.
Gen pulled away long enough to untie her from the bed before pulling Delilah’s naked body into her arms where she lay silently awhile, regaining her composure. When her breathing had once more slowed to normal, she voiced her question.
“Will you finish the story?”
“Tragedy struck. Before the happy couple could announce their love and claim what should have been theirs, the suitor was killed in an accident.”
“That’s very sad.”
“The worst part is that the young Ms. Moreau was so heartbroken, she soon followed her love into the grave. “
“So they never got to be together?”
“Don’t be silly. It’s a ghost story after all, or the Manor wouldn’t be haunted. They never got to be together in life, but they are still together in death, and that’s better. Their love was so far ahead of their time that no one would have understood back then. Now it’s a timeless romance for the history books and the haunted house tours. Now they can be together for all eternity, right here where they belong.”
“I’m glad we skipped the end of the tour. I like the way you tell the story best.”
“Good,” Gen whispered. “I’m glad.”
Delilah Moreau smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep in the arms of her soul mate.
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