Sophie enjoyed clubbing. Not the mainstream type of clubbing. She preferred the dark and seamy fringe clubs that were part of the indie music scene. The atmosphere they provided suited her. All her life she had felt she was on the fringe. But somehow in those clubs among those people, she wasn’t an outsider anymore; she could be free and celebrate her unique self without being judged. In fact, she was quite admired in this scene, she stood out, but she knew it was in a good way, and she enjoyed this feeling, which so heavily contrasted with the way her highly conservative and conventional family saw her. To them, she was the shame of the family and never good enough. Her enquiring mind and her compulsion to challenge traditional belief systems and stereotypes did not sit well with them at all.

In some ways she was a loner. She had lots of friends, but she suspected these friendships were often built more on curiosity, or admiration, because of her individual, and non-traditional brand of femininity, rather than the sharing of any truly close emotional bond. Men were drawn to her more than women were, they seemed to be fascinated by her independent way of moving through the world, and initially saw this as a challenge, as if they wanted to break her – get inside her.

She was striking to look at, certainly not traditionally beautiful, but her jet-black hair, petite, slightly boyish figure and her indisputable powerful aura made people notice her. And when she went out, she was always clad in beautiful gothic style clothes, which she had found in second hand shops, complimenting her long red fingernails, and her pale complexion.

However despite this magnetic energy which drew men to her, she was really quite unaffected by this. She liked men, a lot; sometimes she felt she liked men more than women. She found them fascinating, she wanted to hear their stories and she wanted to understand them, but her overall attitude toward them was one of curiosity, and she did not share the desire or the need that her friends seemed to have to be partnered up with one all the time.

Most of the people in her social circle had come to believe that because of this, she was not interested at all in being in a relationship. They thought it strange, couldn’t understand it, and some were even envious of her ability to be so independent. But that was only one part of Sophie, the part she showed the world. What they didn’t see was that in another part of herself she harbored a deep yearning to share with someone, physically, emotionally and mentally. If she was to be with someone, she wanted it to be because there was something exceptional, not just standard, about them, and the way they connected with her. She wanted to feel a sense of union in her soul, not just her body, if she was going to share any part of herself with another person. However none of the men she had met had been able to excite those three essential elements in her, so this part of her remained hidden, a secret that only she knew.

When she went out – always late at night, to her favorite, dark, noisy and atmospheric clubs, while her friends tried to pick up, or huddled in a corner with their boyfriends, she would instead glide through the crowds of people looking both untouched and untouchable, searching for new faces, new people to talk to, searching for someone to arouse some deep emotion in her, to challenge her.

Her untouched and untouchable aura was not just a façade, or an image she had created to make herself mysterious. She was in fact untouched, physically she was still a virgin, and she felt like a virgin emotionally too, no one had been able to penetrate that part of her yet, and she wondered if anyone ever would.

Sophie’s strong desire to find someone who could perforate the membranes of her sexuality and emotions, lead her to experiment with men on occasions, men who she thought might have the potential of being able to touch her, to break through. But although she found these interludes fascinating and enjoyable at times, she still felt disconnected during these encounters. It was almost like she was taking on the role of a scientist, examining and exploring phenomena, but not actually experiencing it. She found that the physical touch of these men left her cold, and the only way she could feel any intense pleasure in these liaisons was when she was completely in control, when she was touching them, watching them respond, listening to them respond, feeling them respond to what she was doing to them.

Because of this she ended up settling into a familiar and predictable pattern on the occasions she did choose to acquiescence to some mans declaration of desire for her. She liked the look of surprise on their faces when she would take complete control. This look would often then change to one of frustration when they realized they could only look at, but not feel, her untouched and untouchable body and spirit. But for Sophie, the part she enjoyed the most, was watching the play of emotions on their faces once she really got going.

She would toy with them and tease them. She liked to take her time, savoring the moments of being able to create so much pleasure. She would massage their back, legs, and chest, while occasionally letting some part of her body or clothing accidently brush their cock which would always get hard during this preamble. Then she would take it in her hand, and play with it. She liked to see how their responses to different types of touch, so she’d mix it up – sometimes firm, sometimes gentle, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, and sometimes she would just hold it firmly, hand still with just her thumb moving, exploring the tip of their penis.

She never quite knew how each different man was going to respond, and this fascinated her. Some would beg to be allowed inside her and others would fully submit to what she was doing and let her have complete control, while they would just lie back and ride the waves of sensations that she was able to arouse in them. But regardless of each ones unique way of responding, she always relished the fact that she could have this impact on someone, and excite them to levels that she as yet, had only dreamed of being able to reach herself. Unfortunately though, none of these men had ben able to pierce her cool exterior, and arouse in her a mutual excitement.

Sometimes, after playing with them with her hands, they’d find themselves wild with desire for her – begging to touch her, join with her. But she never felt a strong enough answering response from her own mind and body, to want to let go and open herself up to them, be vulnerable to them. So, she’d then go down on them instead, using her mouth and tongue, to play with them, in much the same way as she had done with her hands and fingers only moments earlier. She’d listen to how their breathing changed, and the noises they made, to guide her in taking them to their ultimate climax. Often after they came they’d want her to stay, to lie down next to them and to fall asleep in their arms, but the thought of this made her feel claustrophobic, as if she would be stifled by them, so she would quickly leave, gliding out of their life, in the same way she had glided in. Untouched, untouchable.

Sophie and her friends had a favorite club that they would go to, every Friday night without fail. Most of the people who went there were hardcore regulars like they were. The music was always great, the drinks were cheap, and they never had to pay to get in. And because they knew so many other regulars it usually had the feeling of being a private party, rather than a club.

Sophie usually loved her time there on Friday nights; it was a perfect way to wind down from the week and to kick the weekend off. But this week, for some reason, it wasn’t working it’s usual magic on her. She had a dance, a few drinks and chatted to lots of people, but instead of this making her feel refreshed and relaxed like it normally did, she found herself feeling increasingly bored and restless as the night wore on. The music didn’t seem to sound as good as it usually did, when she was dancing she didn’t feel the same sense of release, freedom and abandonment that she normally did, and for some reason she found that any men who approached her, irritated her, rather than stimulated her curiosity as they usually would.

In a nutshell, the night wasn’t coming together for her and she was feeling at a loss as to what to do. So she went and leant against the crowded bar, hoping that another drink might pick her up, and also hoping that neither of the guys standing on either side of her would try and start a conversation. Her untouched and untouchable aura seemed to have strengthened to an impenetrable shield though on this night, warning others not to approach, and she was left alone, undisturbed, as she lit a cigarette, lost in her own thoughts, while she waited for service.

While she was standing, waiting, she suddenly felt a frisson of sensation through her, first a shiver up her spine, followed by a warm tingling suffusing through the rest of her body, however it wasn’t just her body that was affected, it almost felt as if someone, or something had reached inside her and touched her soul as well. She became lightheaded, and overwhelmed she found that she was hanging onto the bar for support, rather than just leaning against it, as she had been moments earlier.

This extraordinary sensation that made it seem as if the whole world had suddenly shifted on its axis, alarmed her. She didn’t know what was happening or why, and the change in her demeanor from her usual cool, calm and in control persona, prompted the barman to ask her if she was alright and enquire if she’d perhaps had a bit too much to drink. But she shook her head, and said she was fine, making one of her usual jokes about being able to drink anyone under the table. This familiar banter, helped to restore some of her equilibrium, and her world became a little more stable again. The barman quipped in response that maybe she just needed more to drink, and whipped up a Black Russian, slipping it to her on the house.

Although her feet, thankfully, seemed to at least back on the ground again, she was still far from normal self; her body was trembling, her face even paler than usual, and her legs wanted to buckle under her. As luck would have it, she saw a couple get up from one of the couches that were strategically dotted around the club, so she headed straight for it and sank down in the well-worn red velvet upholstery, which covered the old sagging cushions. Her body language was clearly saying keep away, and she was grateful that no-one tried to approach her, beyond friends giving her a wave or mouthing ‘are you ok?’ as they wandered past.

She sipped her drink slowly, holding it in her still slightly trembling hands, and tried to make sense of what had just happened. But she couldn’t, it was so unlike anything she had ever experienced before, there was no reference point, or logical answer.

As the relaxing effects of the alcohol seeped into her body, a sense of control started to return, and scanned the club to see who was doing what and who was talking to who. She saw one of her good friends in a passionate embrace with her some guy she didn’t recognize on another of the couches, and she smiled to herself wondering how much further they would get, before they were told by security that they should take it elsewhere. Everyone around her seemed to be buzzing, busy and a little manic, so she continued to sit and scan the dynamic scene that surrounded her.

It was then that she noticed the man. He almost camouflaged into the black wall he was leaning against. He also seemed to be resisting the manic pull of the people around them as he stood, still, calm, and cool, watching her. And the same electric surge, which she had experienced when standing at the bar, passed through her body again. In some strange way it seemed like they were connected somehow, even though she knew she had never seen him before.

This both scared and excited her. Normally she was very confident, and if she saw someone who piqued her interest, she had no problems with approaching them and starting a conversation. But the extraordinary, powerful effect that this stranger was having on her, just from a brief moment of eye contact completely immobilized her, and the intensity of the moment compelled her to look away. When she glanced back a few minutes later, not being able to resist the urge, he was gone.

As the evening wore on, her friends were astute enough to know that something strange was going on with her, but when they asked what it was she found she couldn’t explain it to them, she couldn’t even explain it to herself. Her friends had however also noticed the newcomer, as he casually wandered around the club, and they also noticed that his gaze seemed to frequently be directed towards Sophie, and that her eyes would dart to him every now and then so without her having said a word about him, they concluded that perhaps he was somehow responsible for Sophie’s unusual behavior.

This was a facet of Sophie no one had ever seen before; nothing usually rattled her, particularly not men. And her friends found it exciting, considering she had always been so resolute in her singleness and independence, yet here she was, softening and changing, becoming flustered and losing her cool, right before their eyes, It was intriguing. So, taking it upon themselves to play cupid they encouraged her to approach him, but Sophie refused, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she couldn’t do that, she needed to process what the hell was happening with this man she was sure she had never met, but felt like she already knew.

Her friends at this point decided to scatter, and seek him out for themselves, if Sophie wasn’t going to do it, they would, but just as quickly as he had seemed to appear, he had now disappeared, nowhere to be found.

When Sophie realized he had gone, which she had sensed well before her friends reported they couldn’t find him it was if a bright light had gone out. No matter how much Sophie tried to get back into the night, to put the bizarre feelings she’d experienced behind her, she couldn’t, her thoughts kept getting drawn back to him.

Who was this man who affected her so deeply, where had he come from, why had they never seen him before, what on earth had happened between them, and most importantly, would she ever see him again…

A week had gone by now, and it had been a busy one, something she was grateful for, as it had helped her to stave off thoughts of him. So when it was time to get ready to go out, her sense of calm control had returned, and she was confident, she was not going to be caught off guard this time; her cool, untouched and untouchable persona would remain intact.

Long, elegant, black gloves, heavy silver jewelry, short antique black lace top teamed with a long tight black skirt, sitting on the hips exposing a band of bare flesh and the belly button, knee high black high heeled boots hugging slim calves, red lipstick and intricate black eye makeup accentuating blue/grey eyes. Sophie was ready for another night out.

She looked powerful. Her carefully prepared outfit and adornments all spoke of strength, and she held herself tall, with a regal air. One could almost imagine that time had shifted and she had just stepped out of a gothic castle, rather than the inner suburban terrace house where she lived.

She entered the club with her friends feeling a familiar surge of energy; this was what she loved, the darkness, the music, the people. She was home and this was her court. Tonight she would be queen Sophie.

Her puissant aura drew even more attention than usual. And she reveled in the intoxicating feeling this bought, as she accepted gifts of alcohol, cigarettes, compliments and admiration. But, although she didn’t want to admit this, she was poised, hoping, and waiting, for his arrival.

She felt him before she saw him, purely from the energy he emitted. The same rush of sensation coursed through her body, as it had done the week before, but this time she knew the cause, and she was prepared. Glancing over her shoulder, and scanning the crowd casually, as if looking for a friend, she spotted him…Talking to a woman, a statuesque blonde, a semi regular at the club, but only vaguely familiar. Sophie felt herself go cold, but this coldness was not from her being untouchable and unaffected, it was an unexpected, piercing, icy stab of jealousy.

Not knowing what to do with this feeling, which was so unfamiliar, she turned, and transferred her attention back to her courtiers. One of them slipped his arm around her, warm hand skimming the bare skin of her back as he moved to lightly squeeze her buttock, while leaning forward, trying to kiss her, compelling her to take a step back, out of his embrace, and smiling graciously she said ‘not tonight’.

Over her suitors shoulder she could see him watching her, still talking to her, and when their eyes met he raised his glass to her, nodded and smiled, as if acknowledging the presence of an old friend, and she did likewise in return.

Her female friends, having noticed his presence too, encouraged her to go and talk to him, determined that she wouldn’t let the chance slip through her fingers this week, keen as they were to see what would happen. But, no, Sophie was not going to do that, he could come to her. And she waited. But he didn’t come.

Despite how unaffected she looked outwardly, she was acutely aware of his presence all evening. She knew when he was near her, who he was talking to, and at one point she felt his body brush against hers, igniting an unquenchable flame of desire within her. But he didn’t stop.

But Sophie felt, just by his sheer presence alone that it was as if he had the power to reach inside of her, and see parts of her, touch parts of her, which no one else could, creating a palpable tension, which she could feel, and suspected he could to.

So what was he playing at, why didn’t he come to her? In fact, what was she playing at? It was as if they were involved in some strategic game, the rules of which she didn’t know, each waiting for the other to make the definitive move.

Eventually Sophie reached that point where her desire to ‘know’ him had become too strong, to be able to keep up this game they were engaging in. Yes, she was used to having men approach her, but then no man had ever affected her this profoundly before. And her assertive nature came to the fore as she forced it to override the fear and anxiety quivering inside. She lit a cigarette, knowing the effect, combined with her long black gloves, created a refined air. And stepped towards him….

As she approached him, a buzzing started inside her, and the closer she got to him the stronger it became. An irresistible electrical force, drawing her towards him. Even if she had wanted to, she wouldn’t have been able to turn back now. But she didn’t want to turn back anyway, this pull was too strong.

‘Hello my queen Sophie he said when she was finally standing face to face in front of him. His voice was deep and rich; with an accent she couldn’t quite place Faltering, she wondered how he knew that Queen Sophie was exactly who she was playing tonight. She didn’t ask him though, she couldn’t ask him, she was too mesmerized by the look in his eyes, and the sparking currents of electricity pulsing through her body. She was locked in a spell, his spell. Her surroundings became distant, as if the club and the people in it were not a part of her world anymore. Noises were muted, images were blurred, all she could see, feel and hear with acute clarity, was him.

‘Why have you not come and spoken to me then, if I am indeed your Queen Sophie?’ She asked, trying to bring back the feeling she’d had earlier that they were playing some game. She liked games, and she thought by taking some control of this one, she might be able to subdue the buzzing, and be the one to enchant him with her spell instead, as she was so accustomed to being able to do with men. There was security for her in having that control. This spell he had cast over her did not feel secure, it felt as if her power had been stripped away.

‘You know why’, he replied, ‘this is the way it had to be; it wasn’t my place to come to you. And now that you have come, it’s time for us to leave, I have something I want to share with you.’

He was tall, very tall, towering over her small frame. But Sophie didn’t feel threatened by him physically, her anxiety was about his ability to move her, as if he was somehow already inside her. But the anxiety was also mingled with a sense of wonder, and, in some strange way, a sense of relief. He was making her feel things on a level she never had before, and all she seemed to be able to do was submit. And perhaps that’s what she was supposed to do. Perhaps it was time.

So, although by normal standards, Sophie would have felt her defenses rise at a suggestion like this from a near total stranger, this didn’t happen, simply because it felt so right, almost as if they had merely been picking up on a conversation that had already started a long time ago, at another time and place, she just couldn’t remember when.

So she agreed.

He took her to his place. From the outside it looked like any ordinary home, but when she passed through the door, she entered a different world. Stepping back in time again, into the castle that she had imagined herself walking out of at the start of the evening.

It was dark inside, the only light coming from the flickering of candles in the elaborate candelabras around the room, and the dancing flames in a large fireplace.

‘Please, sit down’ he said, motioning toward a large, throne like couch. It was silver, with deep purple velvet upholstery, fitting for a Queen. And as she sat, he handed her a heavy pewter chalice containing a rich red wine.

She perched herself on the edge of the couch, not quite knowing what to do next. But he confidently and seamlessly took control, placing his wine on a nearby table and kneeling down beside her. ‘Please, it’s time to relax’ he said as he gently pushed her back against the plush cushions, lifting her legs up onto the couch, so that she was now half reclining, legs stretched out along the luxurious fabric. The buzzing became more acute, the current between them now crackling, and popping with energy.

‘My queen’ he said, feasting his eyes on her, drinking in the image of her reclining form as she delicately sipped her drink. Sophie felt warmth suffusing her entire being, from the wine, his words and his eyes as they travelled over her body. He seemed, now, almost as spellbound as she. This was what she had wanted, and she relaxed, deeply, as he’d asked her to.

Then she let him touch her, as she had let no man ever touch her before. He ran his hands up the inside of her calves, finding the zips at the top of her boots, drawing them down and removing them. This act alone felt so sensual to Sophie, evoking a new awareness of her own body, parts of her that had been slumbering for so long were springing to life.

He massaged her feet, calves and thighs, unclipping her stockings when he reached her upper thighs, and carefully removed those too. Her skin, usually a creamy white, had taken on a rosy hue in the flickering candle light, making him catch his breath as he gazed at her bare legs, stretched out against the plush purple velvet.

He was getting closer to her, getting inside her, one layer at a time, somehow neutralizing her usual resistance; and instead willing her to open up to him, every fiber of her physical body and every secret part of her soul.

‘ Do you trust me my queen?’ he murmured.

‘Yes, yes I do, I really do’ she whispered in reply as she closed her eyes and submitted to sensation, giving herself up to him, as he continued to undress her, caressing and kissing each part of her body as it was revealed, one part at a time, until there was nothing left, no barriers, no protection, no defense.

She could hear music playing in the background. Something not of this time, but familiar to her, and there was a sweet aroma filling the air, mingling with his scent, intoxicating and sensitizing her.

He had long dark hair, which had been tied back when she first met him, but now he released it, allowing the silky strands to brush against her body as he moved over her. She strained upwards as she felt it’s feathery touch against her breast, her belly, and the delicate skin between her legs, she needed him closer, she needed him inside her. As he gently parted her legs, and began exploring that hidden, secret, sacred space, untouched, unseen, by anyone before, her body pulsed with her desperate need.

Almost paralyzed by pleasure now, she wanted to tell him how much she needed him, to beg him to take her, to make her his. But she couldn’t speak, there were no words that would fully express what she wanted to say, so she yielded instead to her body to his, and let that tell him what he needed to know.

As his fingers gently parted her labia, he paused, relishing the sight of her hidden, secret place, inviting him to enter. Arching her hips up towards him his fingers slid inside, to be encased by her slick pulsing heat. She gasped as she felt unimaginable pleasure flowing through her body, and as she heard herself cry out for more, she tried to wrap her legs around him, to bring him deeper and deeper inside her. He murmured in her ear, ‘we’ve been waiting so long for this my Queen, I don’t want to rush you, it must be perfect for you.’

‘It already is’ she whispered. And with those words, he gently allowed his cock to press against her soft flesh, finally entering her, moving slowly, in anticipation of resistance, and when he felt it, she clasped his buttocks, pushing him into her, helping him break that membrane that she had guarded so closely. And for the first time, Sophie felt completely full, in soul and in body.

As the fire hissed and crackled in the background, their bodies moved together; finding their own unique rhythm, instinctively in perfect unison, taking her to places that she had never known existed.

The energy that had been building between them now felt dangerously high, and she sensed the explosion that was imminent only seconds before it happened. Every cell in her body felt like it was erupting, as the fire in the background popped and crackled sending up a shower of sparks, leaving her body spent, tingling, pulsing, as they lay together sated, on their throne. Sophie, had finally found the fix she’d been looking for.

– Judi Reed, 2014