Leafing through my wardrobe I came upon a pair of old lightly scuffed blue jeans, sporting a few rips here and there. They'd be perfect. Now what else was I going to wear? A T-shirt just seemed wrong, and a polo shirt even worse. I wanted to be halfway between smart and casual, so I guess I knew what that meant. Searching through my shirts, I finally found a white Hugo Boss number. That would work. Now all I had to do was run some gel through my hair, spray a bit of aftershave here and there, and I'd be ready to go.
I already had an idea of what I would need, so I'd packed a small holdall with a few items that might come in handy later. The address of the safe house was stored carefully in my pocket, and the coordinates had already been programmed into my satnav. I'd been made aware that there was security on the door to the building, but told they would be expecting me. Mark had told me there was no immediate rush, and that it could wait a few days if needed, but I wasn't going to give the bastard a chance to change his mind. A brief phone call to Lilah was all that was needed to free my calendar for the next couple of days, and now I was free to play. It felt good. I'd been working far too hard lately. My brief sojourn at Escape a couple of nights ago had been the only downtime scheduled into a month of sixteen hour days, back to back meetings, and gruelling long haul trips all around the country. While Lilah would probably throw a fit at my sudden departure, I suspected it would be worth it. Besides, that was why I paid her a big fat bonus cheque every year. Now that my conscience was clear, all I needed to do was get my ass down to that safe house. Wait, wait, I cautioned, because as usual I was getting ahead of myself.
Deciding I'd better eat before I tackled torture on a mass scale, I searched through the freezer until something almost edible came into view, and just in case it wasn't I nuked it to within an inch of its life. Although I had a housekeeper she'd taken the week off, and I couldn't even cook baked beans. I'm serious. I had absolutely no idea how the oven worked, nor did I have any inclination to learn. The microwave was my bitch, though, and I knew exactly how that baby operated. Shove it in, press all the right buttons and treat her gently. I'd also learnt the hard way that you should never go past the allotted time slot, else she was likely to explode or burst into flames.
Cracking open a can of diet soda to accompany my meal, I launched myself upon the sofa and found the sports channel. Formula One was on, and it just about managed to keep me entertained for the duration of my short meal, though there were no noteworthy crashes. Normally I would have settled in for the ride, but not even a finely tuned Ferrari or Mercedes engine could keep me entertained this evening. I was still after a finely tuned body, of course, but featuring a very different design.
I already knew roughly what the design would entail - long legs, perfectly symmetrical features, big blue eyes and bright blonde hair. That was the standard specification of a Matthew's woman. I didn't have a problem with that, although I didn't mind the other variants, either. All I knew was that the woman waiting for me tonight would be absolutely stunning. That on its own wasn't enough to hold my attention, but the methods I employed for extracting information from her might keep me entertained for a few hours or so. Time would tell. I just hoped the woman had some stamina. If she fell at the first hurdle it was going to be a very disappointing evening, and I didn't handle disappointments well.
Parking my car in the underground garage indicated in the brief I'd been given, I wasted no time grabbing my holdall and making my way above ground. The property was relatively easy to locate, less than a three-minute walk away, and in no time at all I was conversing with the security guard.
The burly man looked me up and down and checked my likeness with an image he'd been given on his cell. When he was confident I was the man in question, he gave me a standard pin tumbler lock key and indicated an archway to his right. He also gave me his business card, which contained his cell phone number. I would need to call him to be granted access in and out of the main gate. Placing the card in my back pocket I thanked him as he unlocked the entryway for me, and strode on quickly ahead.
The metal gate that greeted me parted easily to my touch and closed silently behind me, whirring shut in my wake. In front of me was a bizarre creation, but you got used to things like this in London. Once upon a time it had been a quaint little Victorian residence, but some posh city designer had recently done a number on it. There was a three-storey extension that had been rendered, giving it a smooth, matt black finish. There were also lots of massive glass panels everywhere, some of which housed a rooftop garden, and others that framed the kitchen and lounge. Everything looked minimalist in design, which didn't surprise me at all knowing Mark, and I already had a rough idea what to expect when I got inside. It would have cream walls, brown leather furniture and chrome features, or something very similar. I smiled. It seemed that my victim's prison wasn't half as bad as it could be. Trust Mark to go easy on the woman. Bloody soft touch, that boy was.
Using my key, I opened the door quietly and stepped inside. Making a minimal amount of noise I tried my best to listen carefully for sounds of life. No one had told me where the girl was being kept, and I had visions of her coming at me with a carving knife. Would Mark have been smart enough to remove all hazardous items from the house before bringing her here? Unlikely, and he'd find it all the more entertaining, knowing I was the one that would have to deal them. I wondered if the bastard had CCTV in here. I didn't give a fuck, anyway. If he pulled a blackmail stunt on me after I'd just tried to help save his wife's life, he was a total asshole. It was unlikely, because if he was taking footage of me he was also taking footage of his ex-employee and that would get him in a whole load of shit, too. Advancing forward carefully, I stopped dead and strained my ears for noise. After a full minute I frowned. It was possible that the woman was sleeping, but unlikely. If I'd done a number on Matthews, and he'd managed to get his hands on me, I wouldn't be sleeping, that was for sure. So where was she, and what was she doing? Come out, come out, wherever you are.
I was standing in the lounge and it didn't look like anyone had been in here. There was a brown suede sofa without a cushion out of place, a glass coffee table complete with several pristine-looking magazines that didn't look like they'd been touched, and a large flat screen TV. Placing my hand gently upon the TV confirmed that it was not warm, and had not been used recently. Advancing to the kitchen area provided no more clues to the girl's whereabouts. There were no glasses or dishes in the sink, and the back of my hand on the swanky chrome coffee machine and kettle detected no heat there either. Hmm. I scanned the work surfaces for a knife block and didn't find one. What I did find was a magnetic knife rack next to the cooker which currently held four stainless steel knives, all evenly spaced apart. The question was: had it held more? Time would tell.
Advancing stealthily upon the black slate tiles, I rounded the corner and found a dining room. A quick glance confirmed that no one was hiding there either. The downstairs toilet also heralded no signs of life, so it looked like I was going to have to venture upstairs. If the lady in question did have a knife I was going to be mightily pissed. I was wearing one of my favourite Boss shirts and if she managed to put a few holes in it I was not going to be best pleased.
Pausing at the bottom of the stairs for a few seconds I listened intently once again for anything that might indicate a human being was within, with no more success than before. Where the hell was this woman? Cursing under my breath I made my way upstairs as quietly as possible.
Fortunately I was met with no immediate pitfalls. There were no creaky floorboards that might have given away my presence nor were there any obstacles barring my way. Hmmm. Upon reaching the top of the stairs I was greeted with four doors, all of which were closed. How convenient. Now I just had to guess which one she was hiding behind. This game was getting more exciting by the second. Eenie-meenie-miny-mo.
Scrutinising the doors I noticed one with a lock upon it, which was obviously the bathroom. It was possible she'd locked herself in there, but ultimately futile. The lock could be undone with a screwdriver, so unless she intended to stay awake twenty-four-seven, eventually I was going to get my hands on her. If she'd picked a bedroom she might have found something to prop under one of the doors, which might make my life difficult for an hour or two, but I didn't see it as being a problem. A chest of draws or a chair wasn't going to keep me out for long.
Opening the first door in front of me, feeling it was unlikely she'd have chosen the one nearest to the stairs, I was unsurprised to find it empty. It was a generous double room that had seen one of London's top interior designers, judging by the amount of gold gilt and mirrors splashed around the place. I sighed. One down, three to go.
Creeping along the carpeted hallway, I opened door number two as quietly as I could. This time it was a single room, decked out in an array of autumnal colours and suede, and just as empty as the one before. I was getting closer to my prey.
The next room was the bathroom, and I already had a sneaking suspicion that was where she'd be. She'd feel safe with a lock and better yet, she'd have running water and a toilet to hand if she ever decided to let her hand stray off the door handle. Sure enough when I grabbed the lever and pressed down there was resistance. I smiled grimly.
'Out you come, precious. You have an appointment with a monster.' Was it fair to scare the shit out of her this early? Probably not, but we were playing by my rules, and I wouldn't mind a bit of fear in her eyes when I finally managed to break her free from her self-made prison.
'Fuck you.' The snarl was venomous. I smiled to myself. At least that meant she had a bit of fight left in her. This was going to be more fun than I thought. I almost rubbed my hands together in glee.
'You might be if you play your cards right, but to be honest I doubt it.' I had no intention of having sex here tonight. I had people for that. Scrap that - I had lots of people for that; nice people who didn't sell their boss out to the highest bidder.
There was a bang and the sound of something crashing. I resisted the urge to laugh out loud. My victim was a fiery little thing, but I was fairly confident I could tame her within a few hours. Everyone could be tamed when given the right incentives, I found.
'I'm going to count to three and if you're not out of the bathroom and kneeling on the floor at my feet I am going be at least twice as annoyed as I am now, and that's not going to be pretty. When my stress levels get worked up I tend to play nasty.' I emphasised the word 'nasty' for good measure. 'One, two… three.'
Standing in the hallway, watching the door do absolutely nothing, I think I was offended for a minute. I knew the woman didn't know who I was, but my tone of voice was usually enough to have them sobbing at my feet and begging for forgiveness. It appeared I was going to have to work on that.
Frowning, I decided I'd better go with plan two, which was to find a screwdriver and undo the door latch. There were only four screws to the design, so the good news was it wasn't going to take long.
'I'm not kneeling for any of you bastards ever again.' Her voice was softer now, and a hiccup accompanied the last word. It sounded like she might have started crying. It was an interesting approach to the dilemma she currently found herself in, but it wasn't going to work on me. Tears turned me on.
'Suit yourself, but don't say I didn't warn you.' Turning, I walked back down the stairs and retrieved my holdall from where I'd left it in the kitchen. It just so happened there was a screwdriver in there, which should suit my purposes perfectly. I hadn't intended on doing any D.I.Y when I brought it with me, but it paid to come prepared. Bothering the security guard with trivialities this early in the game was the sign of an amateur, and I couldn't let my reputation be sullied thus.
Marching loudly up the stairs again I wasted no time in unscrewing the tiny screws that held her very insecure prison together. It didn't take her long to realise what was happening.
'You can't do that!' She'd gone from being sullen and venomous, to outraged. I wasn't entirely sure if that was progress, but I was shortly going to find out.
'I think you'll find I can, precious.' Already having managed to remove two screws, the project was already half completed. Now I just had to hope that the bathroom contained no dangerous weapons, or furniture that could be used to wedge the door shut. I was in no mood for further complications. Although some frantic scrabbling about was going on in there I didn't let it deter me from my task. The sooner I let her know who was boss, the better.
When the last screw dropped into my hands I simply pulled the door handle off and used the back of the screwdriver to force the remaining portion back into the bathroom. Surprisingly there was no resistance, which made me a little suspicious, but then I'm a suspicious kind of guy. Swiping the latch mechanism out of my way, I used the screwdriver to lever the door open and was almost surprised when it moved with no further obstructions. She couldn't have given up this easily, could she? How very disappointing. As the door slowly moved inwards I cast my gaze forwards, but before it had time to focus on anything of note there was a blurred mass of bright colours and dark hair, and it was intent on heading my way. Sidestepping neatly I was intent on letting her pass without allowing her too close to my person. Whilst the idea was a good one, somehow she still managed to get a swipe at me and I felt something sink into my forearm. Something sharp and unpleasant. Whilst I would have loved to have the time to examine it the woman was rushing headlong down the stairs, and if she wasn't careful she was about to break her neck. Sure enough she tripped midway, and had I not been right behind her there was a good chance she would have broken a few bones.
Pulling her sharply into my body, the first thing I noticed was her hair. She was a brunette. There was no way she could have been one of Mark's girls. What was he playing at now? The second thing was that she smelled like honeysuckle and vanilla, and it had me taking another breath just so I could fill my lungs with the incredible scent. I frowned. How odd. Perfume didn't usually have this effect on me. Maybe I was losing my touch.
'Whilst I'm happy to break a bone or two of yours later, I'd prefer you didn't do it so early in the game. I don't want you passing out on me until I'm ready.' She immediately tried to pull away from me but I was ready for her, and my iron grip on her shoulders didn't falter.
'Are you usually this articulate with women, or does it take years of practise?' she snarled.
I'll admit I was a little affronted. So far it was she who had done me a grievous injury and not the other way around. Don't get me wrong; I intended to rectify the situation soon, but still… Glancing at my forearm, now that I'd adjusted my balance to compensate for her weight, revealed that a three-inch stainless steel nail file had been embedded in my flesh. It wasn't as deep as it could have been, because she had been more intent on getting away from me, but it didn't look particularly pretty.
'Say "sorry".' I used my sternest tone, and that usually got results in my world.
'Fuck you.' The emphasis on the word 'you' was quite heavy. I sighed.
'We've already been over this. Now I was quite prepared to be civilised, but if you want to act like a child I'm fully prepared to do this the hard way.' She had no way of knowing exactly what my brand of 'civilised' was, but annoying me was certainly a mistake. She'd discover that soon enough.
Grabbing her by the hair I dragged her the rest of the way downstairs. Although she kicked, struggled, and lashed out like a Thai kickboxer she didn't manage to get too close to me. It seemed the best possible action for all concerned was to get her in heavy restraints as soon as possible. That way she wouldn't be able to hurt herself and, more importantly, she wouldn't be able to hurt me.
So, manhandling her to the best of my abilities, I led her to the bottom of the stairs and then back towards the kitchen where I had reliably been informed there were some more stairs that led to the basement. Thankfully this was indeed correct, and bar a few swift kicks to my shins and an elbow in the ribs, we got there just about in once piece. I say just about, because I was going to have a handful of Marianna's hair in my hand when we stopped. This was entirely her fault. If she'd played nicely on the journey down I wouldn't have had to yank it so damn hard.
The lights down in the basement operated by motion detection, which was especially useful as my hands were being kept busy fending the little hellcat off. When we got to the bottom I somehow managed to open the metal handle of a frosted glass door, before marching us both inside. I was a little worried of what I was going to find at first, but sure enough all the right equipment greeted me, and the X-frame in the corner looked particularly appealing. Alas I was alone in my appreciation of the room. The woman in front of me had suddenly sprouted feet of lead and was virtually immovable. So she could talk the talk, but she couldn't walk the walk. I rolled my eyes. Picking her up, with one hand just above her backside and the other under her legs, I deposited her next to the frame, and before she'd had time to figure out what I was doing I had two of her hands in cuffs at the top of her head and the rest, as they say, was history.
'What's your name?' After I'd finished restraining her I grabbed a utilitarian black plastic chair and pulled it alongside her. My ass was going to be dead in little over half an hour, but it would be a mild inconvenience compared to the state I intended to have her ass in by the time we'd finished. Waiting patiently for an answer to my question, I wasn't all that surprised when none was forthcoming.
'Fine. If that's the way you want to play it I'll call you Brian for the purposes of this exercise.' That would piss her off and entertain me no end. I smiled inwardly.
'So Brian, what made you turn on your ex boss? I'm going to throw in a wild guess here and say revenge. You're not a blonde, he probably didn't have sex with you, and you were pissed at being ignored for a couple of years. Am I right?'
The woman just seemed to have realised that she was completely restrained and at my mercy, for she then rattled and banged about a bit. I was in no hurry, so I waited for the tantrum to pass.
Raising my voice to compensate for all her noise I said, 'It's tough going without sex for a couple of years. At least, I guess it must be tough. It's not a theory I've tested personally. I'm betting you're not used to being ignored.' The woman in front of me was an absolute stunner. I couldn't imagine she would be happy being left in the corner for long.
'We had sex.' The words were bitten out and resentful, but this was progress and highly interesting to my ears.
'You did? I find that hard to believe. I don't think you have the correct hair colour.'
The rattling stopped for a moment and my ears stopped ringing.
'I didn't. His new wife gave him an itch that he couldn't quite scratch and I was an entertaining interlude.'
Detecting more resentment and bitterness I decided to press my advantage. 'So you sold him out because you were jealous? Millionaires seem to have a profoundly interesting effect on the female population, I've found. They immediately induce thoughts of wedding bells and babies. Oh, and let's not forget the American Express Platinum card. Call me cynical. Were you put out you weren't going to go down the aisle, precious?'
When she didn't answer I rephrased my questions, placing plenty of emphasis on the words jealous and aisle. When another minute went by without a sound I got the impression that our friendly chat was over.
'Fine. It's about time I got you out of those clothes, so it's probably best if the chitchat ends now,' I said. Realising I'd left my holdall, with all the tools of the trade I would shortly be needing back up by the bathroom, I turned my back on Miss World 2017, and tried to concentrate on the job at hand. It wasn't as easy as it should have been.
Chapter Eleven - Mark
The coven filed in all around me, and I remembered why I called them the witches. They loved black. Leather, latex, lace and silk, it was all black, with the odd splash of purple or red for effect. All of the women were openly grinning or smiling, and the thought of tormenting me was clearly turning them on, judging by the glazed looks of lust I saw surrounding me.
'I've warmed him up for you, ladies, but feel free to make sure I've done the job properly.' Sophia moved around my body, her fingers pressing upon the fiery red flesh of my ass, but I was damned if she was getting a sound out of me with this lot about. They'd have to try a lot harder if they wanted to make me scream.
'I see you've locked him up tight, Sophia. Excellent work. His pathetic little thing is straining for attention. Must be the sight of all of these incredibly beautiful women before him.'
Firstly, it is not pathetic, lady, and secondly you overestimate your collective attractiveness, I thought. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut. A few of them strode over to examine Sophia's handiwork, digging their fingernails deeply into my sensitised flesh. The amount of adrenaline inside me had doubled at their entry, so I felt everything very keenly. Then there was some hair pulling, some slapping, and nearly every single one of them laughed as they poked and prodded my cage. This went on for quite some time, but to be honest this was tame compared to what was coming next, so I kept quiet.
'Is it time for the first game yet?' This excited request came from Bubbles. I have always called her that, though I was aware her name was Naomi. Her nickname was due to the mass of tight black curls she wore on top of her head. Today they were trapped in an interesting cone-shaped contraption in a garish shade of neon pink. I couldn't help but wonder if she was colour blind.
One of Sophia's male staff chose that moment to deliver a drinks trolley, and thankfully that distracted them for a moment or two, as coffee, tea, wine and spirits were being liberally dished out. I could have done with a large whisky myself, but I needed to keep my wits about me.
'Yes, Sophia, do tell,' said Nicola, waving around her Aperol Spritz. Great, Sophia was giving them fizz. They'd be even crazier than usual in a few minutes.
'Why so impatient, girls? We've got him for the evening. Hold your horses.' Sophia smiled evilly as the attention turned to me yet again.
I swore I was going to hunt every single last one of them down and make sure they all paid for this unwanted humiliation. I could probably send a few of them bankrupt if I tried hard enough. You asked for this, I reminded myself. Yes, but I didn't ask for this. Well, not exactly, anyway.
Picking up the jar she had set down beside me earlier, Sophia rattled the thing again, but I was too far away to see it properly, and I certainly wasn't moving anywhere until someone found a key for the padlock. Watching as she unscrewed the top off the thing, she then passed it around for the amusement of all the ladies assembled. I had no idea what was so funny, but I was sure I was shortly going to find out. Watching carefully, I saw them bring the jar up to their noses and take a good sniff. Inwardly I winced. What was in that damn jar?
'Will it hurt?' snickered Bubbles.
'Oh, I do hope so. There's nothing I enjoy more than watching a man writhe in pain,' said Dahlia, one of the older girls. She meant it, too. I'd seen her in action more than once, and if I thought I was brutal on occasion, I had nothing on that woman.
Sophia looked around her little gathering and smiled. 'Eventually it will hurt, but we'll start with a slow burn. My little pet is a bit out of practice, as I'm sure you're aware.' There was more laughter.
'I wonder if his wife has taught him any new tricks yet,' said Fiona, whose poor husband always looked on the verge of death whenever I saw him. Mind you, if I was married to Fiona I suspect I'd look like that too.
'You'll have to ask him,' Sophia purred. 'Now, who wants to let him out and watch him crawl?'
Unfair. I wasn't a big fan of crawling and I had no wish to do so for their entertainment. I was hardly going to fight them though. There were at least fifteen women in the room with me now, and unless I was much mistaken I was going to be in chains or restraints for most of the evening, which meant I would do whatever they told me to, or suffer the consequences. Thankfully I had no time to dwell on my woes because there was a chorus of 'yes please' from nearly everyone in the room, all of whom were anxious to see my naked ass wiggling about.
The key was passed to Scarlett, appropriately named for her overuse of red lipstick, and she took her time sashaying my way. If she had meant to be provocative she was wasting her time on me. If someone saw fit to bring Jen back to life, I promised that from then on in I would be a one-woman man. Christ! Had I really just said that? Oh shit, I had.
'My poor baby. Are you all trapped and locked up inside that little cage?' Scarlett cooed at me as if I was three years old. I did not appreciate it. I hoped she could tell by the sardonic look in my eyes. Could someone just whip the fuck out of me, dammit? I needed a fast-forward button to get past all this crap. She sniffed when I ignored her.
'He's not very polite,' she moaned in the general direction of the hostess.
'I've already told you he's out of practise. If you're unhappy with his behaviour there's a flogger or a paddle for adequate attitude adjustment. Feel free to use either.'
'How about the Cat?' Scarlett asked, deciding to go straight for the jugular. She was my kind of lady.
'My, what a greedy girl you are, Scarlett. No, not the Cat. We're saving that for later, so you'll just have to be patient.' Sophia turned her attention back to Bubbles and continued her conversation, obviously uncaring as to what happened to me. To be fair, she knew I could handle myself. She also knew I was pissed off, so had probably decided to wait until I was a little more… malleable. Well, that was going to take some time.
Scarlett pouted as her toy of choice was refused, but brightened when she caught sight of the rubber flogger. 'Oh,' she squeaked, 'this will do nicely.' She then started flinging the thing around.
On the plus side, I had a reason to be grateful that Scarlett was one of Slimming World's finest advocates, because whilst she had an amazing hourglass figure and exceptionally long, willowy legs, she didn't have any strength behind her swing. Sophia worked out almost every day and had a personal trainer at her beck and call. The difference between the two lady's strokes was impressive. I could probably withstand this kind of mild irritation for days.
'Scarlett, harder. Honestly, you're barely tickling him with that thing.' Sophia's curt tone had Scarlett redoubling her efforts to chastise me, but I wasn't going to start screaming anytime soon. She was an annoyance, nothing more, nothing less. Besides, all I could concentrate on was the damn jar that was being passed around. What was in that thing?
'So, before we get started with the games, who'd like to give my pet over there a little trim?' A pair of nail scissors were brandished in the air, and I closed my eyes. It seemed I was going to get the full works this evening. Sophia was going to go all out on me today. Great.
'Me, me, me.' There was another chorus of happy, delighted squeaks as ten pairs of hands began waving about frantically. I shuddered. It's only hair. It will grow back, I reasoned with myself.
'Vivian, you're good with a pair of scissors, why don't you give it a go?' A vivacious redhead sporting bright purple lipstick held her hand out eagerly for the item in question.
'I'm not sure whether I'll be any good with these,' she said. 'Scalpels and clamps are more my thing, but I'm more than willing to give it a go.' Vivian, dressed from head to toe in a tight black Lycra cat suit, swaggered over to me, smiling broadly.
'Maybe we'll be able to incorporate some of your finer talents later in the evening, Dr Broadhurst. Although I'm not sure he has the stamina to withstand your kind of torment.'
'None of them do,' said Vivian. 'But that's what makes it so much fun.'
Vivian wasted no time on her mission to humiliate me, and began snipping away in earnest. Thankfully I couldn't witness the damage because my head was at a rather awkward angle in the stocks. If my wife did, by some miracle, come around in the next few days, I was going to have some explaining to do. Either that or I'd have to develop an aversion to sex for a couple of weeks at least.
Vivian was none too gentle in her task. I think she might have pulled out as many handfuls as she managed to cut. There was a reason the woman was nicknamed The Butcher of Bagdad and I never wanted to go anywhere near her whilst under a general anaesthetic. Whilst she might have had a reasonable reputation under the NHS, her 'exploratory' extra-curricular work was much feared by any submissive male worth his salt. She never managed to hold on to a slave for more than a year. I had no idea what she did to them, and to be quite honest I was more than happy to be left in the dark. It wouldn't have surprised me if she'd removed a testicle or two.
'We should have waxed him.' This was from Scarlett, and I was beginning to really dislike the woman. Sophia knew how to pick them.
'You'd be wasting your time. Nothing gets through that thick skin bar a good sturdy whip.' Nicola winked at Scarlett and they all giggled. For a moment I felt like I was back in school. Thankfully, it was only a moment. Come on ladies. Let's get this show on the road.
'Finished!' Vivian held her hand aloft with the scissors as though a major milestone had been accomplished, and there was a brief round of applause. God only knew how she celebrated her surgical victories, but hopefully they were considerably more impressive.
'Well done,' said Sophia, and I wasn't sure if I could detect a slight note of irony in her voice or not. Maybe I was overthinking it. Shit. Of course I was. There wasn't much else I could do, except panic.
'It's probably time we let him out of those stocks and oil him up, ready for round two. What do you say, ladies?'
Everyone was in agreement to that question except me, but no one cared what I thought. Before I knew what was happening Scarlett was sashaying over once again, waving the key around in her hand.
'Do you want to be untied, pet?' She patted my head condescendingly. I managed to hold back my grimace of annoyance and continued to ignore her. Maybe she'd whip me again and that would take care of another ten minutes or so, before they let me loose amongst the crazy people.
'He's really asking for it, isn't he?' I had no idea who said that and I wasn't paying attention. I had one eye trained on Scarlett and the other was trying to pinpoint Sophia's whereabouts. That woman had better not leave the building. I'd rather be fed to lions than left alone with this lot.
Sophia began walking towards me. I breathed a sigh of relief. 'And he's really going to get it. We just need a little attitude adjuster. For now just get him out of there. We can all help get him in some more manageable restraints, can't we girls?'
Great. Though to be honest, I hadn't expected anything less. They'd be pretty stupid to leave me unfettered at the moment. I wasn't in the best mood to be toyed around with.
'Let's get the spreader bar first. We'd better make sure he doesn't run away. That would spoil all our fun this evening, wouldn't it girls?' There was a chorus of agreement.
'And don't forget the handcuffs. Men look absolutely adorable in handcuffs. I keep my slave in them all the time.' I had no idea who was speaking now, but she was blonde, slim, and extremely attractive. Whilst normally that might have had some effect on me, in the current company she was holding she might as well have grown horns. After this evening I was never agreeing to anything that might involve my submission ever again.
'Right, let's get to it, ladies.' Sophia ran her finger along my lip. I growled and she smacked my nose. 'Just remember that you asked for this. Do as you're told, pet, else you'll go home without those whip marks you've been yearning for.' Walking behind me, she re-examined her earlier work by digging her fingers into my reddened flesh, although that had little effect on me. But when she grabbed my balls in her red gloves and started fondling them, that was a different story. My legs began trembling in response and she laughed delightedly.
'Hurry girls. I think he's a little excited at the prospect of playing with us.'
I absolutely was not, but there was little point in denying the fact and I sighed ruefully.
Meanwhile there was some rummaging around in the toy box as the required fetters were gathered and brought back to Sophia for inspection.
'Yes. Those will do beautifully. Well done for choosing one with a short chain, Addison. That should hobble the bastard pretty efficiently.
Before I knew what was happening one cold silver cuff encased my left ankle and my right shortly followed. I knew, without looking, that the nine-inch spreader bar had been attached between them. Oh well. I hadn't been planning on running any marathons in the near future.
The padlock holding my neck and wrists was then swiftly opened and the wooden yolk of the stocks was pulled back. Before I had a chance to draw in a breath my arms were forcibly yanked in front of my body by four women and fastened into solid steel cuffs. The weight of them nearly made me stagger. It seemed they were taking no chances with me. Good for them.
'What say we have a little inspection of this creature, ladies? Would you like that?' Sophia pressed my shoulders forcibly towards the floor and I knelt for her. The hook of her heel then grasped my neck and pressed. There was no arguing with that as my hands and feet were in chains. I just managed to stop my forehead from smacking into the floor, but it was a close run thing.
'Can we make him lick the floor?' Vivian's throaty purr echoed around the room, and I was beginning to dislike her. The last thing I needed right now was to slather myself in germs.
'You heard her, pet. Start licking. We want to see those tiles beneath you sparklingly clean.' If I had any misgivings about completing my allotted task, they were soon rectified as Sophia's spike heel worked its way up the crack of my ass, applying reasonable pressure as it worked its way upwards. I had no doubt what she'd do if I disobeyed her order, and having been subjected to something similar before, I did not care for a replay. There was only so much pain I wanted to be in tomorrow.
Closing my eyes I thrust out my tongue and began to lather the already exceptionally clean tile beneath me with my saliva, hoping to hell I didn't manage to contract salmonella, or something similar.
'You told me he was a lion, Sophia. Seems more of a pussycat to me.'
'Minty, you just have to know how to handle him. Whilst he's not a pushover by anyone's standards, he has his buttons and I know how to press them.' Sophia sounded very sure of herself, as well she should be. She had me by the balls and she knew it.
My head was then painfully yanked upwards by my hair as my Mistress carefully inspected my work. Managing to keep my face neutral, I would dearly have loved to pull out all of her hair.
'Not bad, slave. Move on to the next one.' There were soft snickers all around me as they watched my tongue at work.
'Ladies, ladies. Get your hands on him. Make him feel loved. Let's put that poor, pathetic piece of manhood under a little strain, shall we?' That was all the encouragement needed to have fingertips, nails, hands and toes prodding every available inch of my body. The witches were not gentle with me, but that would have been the last thing I needed, so it was a blessing in disguise. As my tongue lapped at the rough and uneven floor beneath me my cock strained to attention, even though it could receive none.
Sophia really was very clever in that aspect, I thought. You always wanted that which you could not have. By taking away any possibility of my being able to have sex this evening, I craved it with a longing that was visceral and primitive. The woman might have thought she'd won this round, but I had news for her. She'd have to try harder - much harder before she cracked the shell that encased my body. Humiliation, pain, and arousal were all trivial things compared to what I had endured lately, and I could handle a whole lot more. The witches might have their fun with me, but there was no way they'd have the last laugh.
Chapter Twelve - Leyland
Lugging my holdall all the way down two flights of stairs gave me reason to be thankful I worked out. Whilst I wasn't out of breath when I set sights on the girl again my heart rate had accelerated a little, though that might have been due to excitement at the thought of stripping my little vixen bare. The obvious bonus was that I probably wouldn't need coffee for days, and that had to be a good thing.
'How are you feeling, Brian? Looking forward to our session by any chance?'
Given a brief few moments to stew in her own juices, my little temptress had gone very red in the face and her eyes would have given the Borg queen a run for her money. It was official - the woman was mad. This was excellent news. It just made the game that much more entertaining.
'My name is Marianna,' she spat. Score one for me. I knew she wouldn't like being called Brian for long.
'I think I prefer Brian,' I said, wondering if her face could get any redder. It was worth a try.
'You don't need to do this.' As soon as I came within touching distance of her body the anger immediately fled and fear replaced it. The woman seemed to swing between the two so rapidly I could barely keep up.
'Of course I don't,' I replied. 'I don't have to do anything - but I want to do this. You don't intend on speaking too early, do you? I'm in for a nice long session and have booked the appropriate amount of time off work in readiness. I'd hate for you to spill the beans in the next ten minutes and ruin all my carefully made plans.' I was serious. I wanted a good sixteen-hour session, with plenty of swear words and screaming thrown in. Anything else and I would feel cheated.
Her mouth hung open, clearly shocked at my words. I had no idea why. She knew what she'd signed up for with Mark Matthews, surely? Maybe she was lying. Maybe she hadn't had sex with him, and if she hadn't, she wouldn't have seen his numerous playhouses, filled with all manner of devious torments. Maybe, but unlikely. Curiouser and curiouser, I thought.
'You're just as crazy as he is,' she whispered. Her hand moved instinctively to cover her open mouth, but jolted heavily against the cuff holding it and she let it drop slowly in defeat.
'I take umbrage to that,' I said, my eyes furrowing. 'I am far crazier than Matthews.' I was, too.
'I didn't mean Matthews.' Her eyes cast downwards as if suddenly aware she had revealed too much. Oh my. What a mistake to make. Now I was really intrigued.
'Spill the beans, darling. Who am I just as crazy as?'
Her lips clamped shut, almost as if she was reminding herself that she mustn't say a word. Hmm. I had ways to deal with that.
Retrieving an extremely sharp Stanley knife from my holdall, I slowly brought the blade to life in front of her eyes by pushing the small rectangular trigger forward.
'Sure you don't want to talk, precious?' I waggled the blade back and forth in front of her eyes, so it caught the light. It was the little touches that mattered.
Narrowing my eyes I waited for her to blurt something out, but she was obviously made of sterner stuff than most of Mark's bimbos. Her green eyes had gone from bright emerald to stormy seawater as they stared mutinously at me, and it appeared I was going to have to try harder to extract my information. That suited me just fine. The first thing I needed to do was get her naked. Women always felt far more vulnerable when they had no clothes on, and that was as good a place as any to start.
Standing back for a moment to gauge where my knife should be placed first, I carefully assessed the woman in front of me. She was a mess - a beautiful mess - but a mess, nonetheless. Her face was drowning in mascara, and the tracks of her tears had run it down her face in unattractive black lines. It appeared she hadn't counted on getting caught. Any lipstick she had worn had long since rubbed off, and she had dark circles and bags under her eyes; the result of very little sleep, I suspected. Doing the dirty on Matthews had kept her awake at night then, which was to be expected. I'd have certainly been looking over my shoulder, had it been me. Then there were plucks and stains all over the long yellow and white cotton shirt she wore, which was no doubt the result of a tussle as they brought her in. If she had a brain in her head she wouldn't have wanted to come willingly, and thankfully that appeared to be the case. Her skin-tight black leggings at first sight appeared to be made of leather, but a second closer look revealed that they were merely a copy and wouldn't give my knife too much trouble. Unless I was much mistaken they were PVC, or something very similar. It all looked promising so far. I decided to start with the shirt, move on to the leggings, and leave myself a little time to appraise her choice of underwear. Like I said, I wasn't one to rush things.
Bringing my knife up to the hollow of her neck, I let it rest on the top button of her blouse for a second. With one plunge forward my knife could easily sever a very prominent artery and she could be hanging there dead in seconds. Although that wasn't my style, she didn't have to know that.
'Any last requests?'
'Yes. Make it quick.' The emerald green eyes were back and they were ready to do battle. Impressive. She should be cowering and almost hanging from the restraints by now. Perhaps I wasn't being scary enough.
'Unfortunately for you I don't do anything quickly,' I said, as my warm breath gently fanned her cheek. She recoiled, just as I'd thought she would, though interestingly she didn't back down.
'Well if you're going to start chopping body parts off at least give me something to bite on first.' She gnashed her teeth together a couple of times in case I was in any doubt to her meaning.
I have to say, I blinked a few times at that. I wasn't sure if I was stunned or horrified. Was she joking or did she really expect to die here? Mark was an animal, don't get me wrong, but he wasn't completely unhinged. Yet. There was still time.
My knife slowly sliced through the first button, and then another, before I had managed to gather my reply. I then promptly lost it as a wispy vision of lace came into view. Fuck. It was exquisite. Whilst nearly all of my tastes were expensive, I was a particular fan of women's underwear and I could spot designer Italian lingerie from half a mile away. Intricate looping patterns of delicious, pristine white lace danced in my eyes. My head spun. Eventually I managed to wrench my head away from her tits, but the effect they had on me was quite startling.
'Let's not get ahead of ourselves,' I finally managed to reply. 'We've only just been introduced.'
'Actually, we haven't. I have no idea who you are.' Her voice was remarkably calm for someone who had a knife pointed directly at her. I placed a little more pressure upon the blade and then let it slide through the remaining six buttons, just to remind her who was in the position of power. I then sheathed the blade and threw it on top of my holdall.
'All you need to know is that I'm Mark Matthews' bitch for today, and I work for him.' She opened her mouth to reply, but I'd grabbed hold of the two sides of her open cotton shirt and tugged them wide. My eyes feasted on a whole lot of lace, but this time I was ready for it.
'Not bad,' I mumbled. It was actually pretty fucking fantastic, but I wasn't about to tell her that. My hand slid inside her ridiculously pretty bra and my thumb caressed her nipple. It sprang instantly to life. Expecting her to give a shudder of revulsion at my treatment I was surprised when she gasped out loud. She immediately tried to muffle the sound by clamping her jaw shut, but by that time it was too late.
'Am I turning you on, precious? Surely not?' Gently kneading and squeezing her left tit I rolled the little nub in my fingertips and watched her squirm. This was too much fun.
'You're wasting your time. I can't tell you anything. If you want to kill me you might as well get it over with.' Her voice had a hint of breathlessness in it and the sound was music to my ears.
'You'll tell me everything. The trouble is, once you start you won't shut up.' My left hand joined my right, leaving her bra hanging as a pretty necklace as I went to work. Pressing up against her I let my warm breath tickle her nipples and watched them strain for attention. She had an amazing body. I had a feeling I could happily gaze upon it for hours. It wasn't something I had ever wanted to do with a woman before, and I felt decidedly strange at the realisation.
'I'll tell you nothing. If I tell you anything I'm dead, so I figure you might as well do your worst.' She sniffed upon the end of the sentence which kind of ruined it somewhat, but it was a defiant little stance and I had to admire her for it.
'Enough talk.' I waved my hand in the air to indicate that our chitchat was over. Bending over to pick up my knife again, I decided it was time to remove the rest of her garments. If she looked almost divine with just half of her clothing removed, she was going to look like a fucking goddess when she was naked.
Carving up the rest of the blouse took very little time and a few neat snicks severed the bra straps, which was almost a travesty but one I was prepared to accept. The leggings were even easier. Whatever they were made of they almost melted under my knife, and before I knew what had happened Marianna was standing in the middle of a pile of rags, completely exposed… and… oh God, the woman was shaved. Clamping my jaw shut so I didn't start drooling I wondered if I'd popped any pills in my bag. I could do with something to take the edge off my blood pressure right now. Matthews, you're an absolute bastard, I thought. Mind you, I already knew that.
'Enjoying the view?'
My head snapped up and I knew I'd been staring. What I didn't know was for how long. Time seemed to slip away from me for a moment or two, but I figured as long as I didn't focus too heavily on certain aspects of her body I'd probably be fine. Maybe.
'It's not bad,' I drawled, pretending to be completely unaffected by her. She probably wasn't going to fall for that unless she was completely stupid, but hey, she'd decided to work for Mark so she wasn't going to win the Nobel Peace Prize anytime soon.
'Glad I'm boring you senseless, asshole. Can we get on with the torture and humiliation aspects now? I'm kind of looking forward to those.'
I sighed heavily. This woman was going to spoil my fun if I wasn't careful. It was long past time to show her who was boss. Having said that, I was going to start slowly and work up to the good stuff in increments. Whilst I had no doubt that she'd talk sooner rather than later, I didn't want my fun to end prematurely.
Getting several yards of hemp rope from my holdall I made short work of looping it around her neck and tits. As I was going for maximum discomfort I coiled the abrasive rope around each breast several times, squeezing them tightly, so they bulged out of their temporary prison. For now they were perfectly pink and pretty, but soon, if my little temptress didn't spill the beans, they'd be purple and start to bruise. It was her choice, and I didn't mind either way.
Approaching the task at a leisurely pace, I made sure each coil was neatly aligned with the previous one, and pulled as tightly as I could manage without risk of cutting off all blood supply. It took me approximately ten minutes, but I was satisfied with my work. Marianna was going to be very uncomfortable shortly, and she'd probably be sobbing very soon, but she'd need a little more encouragement to get to that state, and that was what I was going to work on next.
Rummaging around in the front pocket of my holdall, I found two solid steel nipple clamps with heavy weights already attached in the form of shiny silver bells. They were adjustable and could be retightened at intervals, which was their particularly evil charm. She wouldn't realise this at first, but when she got the idea of what I had planned she wasn't going to be a very happy bunny. I couldn't wait to watch her face as these beauties took hold. I suspected there would be a swear word or two coming my way shortly.
Attaching the clamps firmly, I noted that she didn't utter a word. Did she actually enjoy pain? Time would tell. Even if she did, there was usually a threshold at which the pleasure aspect disappeared and the pain became overwhelming. That was where we were heading, without a doubt.
Standing back to admire my initial work, I gave each tiny metal screw an additional twist and listened to the heavy bells tinkle sweetly as her chest heaved up and down. Casting my eyes up to her face, it was to witness her two beautiful green eyes lost in a sensual haze of pain. She looked magnificent. I would have loved to take a photo of her, but that would only distract me at this stage in the game.
'How does that feel?' There was no answer, but the gentle tinkling of the bells told me all I needed to know. 'It's my job to play the strong silent type, lady. You need to speak up soon, else I'm going to hurt you.' I ran my fingers up the inside of her leg and stopped just short of the apex of her thighs, giving her a minute or two of thinking time, before I pressed my index fingernail into her clit. By my reckoning the woman should be screaming in revulsion right now and begging for mercy. She did neither, and if I wasn't much mistaken she was finding this whole ordeal arousing. I might have a tougher job on my hands than I expected, but one way or another this woman was going to crack open wide beneath the weight of my stare.
'What's next big guy? You're going to need to do a whole lot better than that, if you want to hear me squeal.' Marianna bit her bottom lip and rolled it under her teeth. My cock began to stir.
'Who employed you?' My right fingernail bit sharply into her clit, while my left hand began stretching her left nipple outwards.
'If I tell you that I sign my own death warrant, and quite honestly I'd rather take my chances with you than the other guy.'
So, it was a guy. I guessed that was something, but not really anything I hadn't figured out already. Mark either had a rival or he'd been fucking around, or this was Michael Redcliff's doing. I was already pretty sure of the answer, but that didn't dull the thrill of the interrogation one little bit. With the amount of willing women regularly at his disposal there was a possibility it was a rival. It could be someone he'd crossed swords with in the business world, and I suspected those were many and numerous.
'Suit yourself, precious.' Rummaging back in the holdall I searched until I found a clear metal barbell, carefully packaged in a transparent zip lock bag, and a twelve gauge hollow needle. I paraded both about a metre from her nose.
'Know what these are?' I asked casually.
'It's a piercing gun,' she said. Score one for her. There was still no begging, and I still couldn't figure out why.
'Know what I'm going to pierce?' I asked. She hadn't quite figured out what was about to go down, unless I was much mistaken.
'Well, my nipples aren't exactly available for a piercing and I'm guessing you're not going for anything as tame as my belly button.' She did that lip-rolling thing again and I realised that I wanted to taste her, drink her in, and bite her. All in good time, Leyland.
'You're smarter than you look, Marianna.'
'Obviously I'm not, otherwise I wouldn't be here, with you.' She gave me a look that could have withered an oak tree.
'This is true,' I said, nodding as I snapped on some latex gloves. You're not allergic to latex are you, darling?' She ignored my question.
'But you're not particularly smart either.'
That comment had my attention and I looked up from the task I was currently employed in, which was sterilising my equipment. 'Oh? And why's that?'
'Because when he figures out what you're up to he's going to come for the both of us. What you're doing now will seem like child's play in a few hours' time if he gets wind of things.'
'Mmm. The mysterious man behind your attack is going to come for me, huh?' I didn't believe a word of it. Immediately changing the direction of the conversation I said, 'Have you seen these?' I pulled a racquet out of my holdall and waved it around in front of her face.
She wrinkled her nose at me and frowned. Are you planning death by tennis ball?' Her tone was somewhat dry.
'Nah. I'm not that good at tennis, and this isn't that kind of racquet. It's one of those electrified ones you use to fry mosquitos. I have another one in my bag as well, so I can work twice as fast.
Her face paled somewhat as the realisation of what I was going to do hit home, but clamping her lips shut she just lifted her gaze away from mine and tried to pretend I didn't exist. She looked so damned regal I wanted to eat her. Oh, the things I could do to her, the photos I could take. Her expressions were exquisite. Unfortunately my time was limited and I had a job to do. Life was tough.
Chapter Thirteen - Mark
When they got bored of watching me lick the floor they made me crawl around for their amusement. This wasn't the easiest feat with my legs attached to a nine-inch spreader bar and my hands in cuffs. At first my movements were slow and uncoordinated. The girls, unimpressed by my performance, decided to speed things up a bit with the use of floggers, canes and paddles. It didn't really make me move any faster, but they seemed to enjoy themselves.
When a few complaints about my lack of enthusiasm were voiced Sophia decided to take matters into her own hands. Pulling a black remote control from her pocket her finger hovered above it, as if deciding what to do. For the life of me I couldn't figure out what she was up to until around 20,000 volts went through my cock. Holy hell. Too stunned to move I remained rooted to the spot, my eyes watering intensely as my hands scrabbled at the cage in desperation.
'Prepared to play nicely now, pet?' Sophia's glacial expression told me all I needed to know. Swallowing tightly I nodded. 'Off you go then.' She waved me away with her fingertips, but the other hand had a firm grip on the remote control and I didn't fancy another shot of that current whipping through me. This time I crawled around the dungeon as fast as my hands and feet could carry me until I was gasping for breath, but I didn't dare slow down.
'Aw, poor baby. He's sweating,' said Scarlett, trying to get her claws into my hair. Thankful that I managed to keep reasonably fit, I scurried away from her and the numerous implements that wanted to tan my ass with fierce enthusiasm.
'Stop it, ladies. Let him have a breather. It's about time we started the first game, anyway.' Sophia clapped her hands together and I concentrated on getting some much-needed air into my lungs. My ears, however, were primed for the instructions to the game. This was going to be bad. Where the witches were concerned nothing was ever good, but this was going to be really bad. I just knew it.
'Okay, ladies. Listen up.' To make sure she had their attention, Sophia grabbed a champagne flute and rapped a knife smartly against it. Immediately all eyes turned to the front and watched in excited anticipation for what was to come next.
'The first game of the evening is called "feel the burn".' She picked up the little jar she had unearthed earlier and shook it. 'Inside here is a bag of Hamley's finest marbles. They vary in size from quite small and boring to rather large and impressive, although they are not particularly special in any way, shape or form. They are made of ordinary glass and they'll roll happily along a smooth surface. There is something a little special about these marbles though, girls.' Turning her attention towards me she smiled. 'I have coated these beasts in one part chilli oil, one part menthol oil, and the remaining part eucalyptus oil. There are twenty balls in here and everyone will get a chance to play with one. Your first job is to rub the unguent off anywhere you choose upon his body. See if you can pick a nice, sensitive spot. You then get to roll it around the room, and my pet will chase after it and bring it back to you in his lips. After that you can hide it somewhere upon your person and have my pet retrieve it, or you can choose to bury it in his ass - whatever takes your fancy. When he's full to bursting we'll spank the living daylights out of him and see if he embarrasses himself. So, who'd like marble number one?'
As I sat there virtually speechless there was an almighty ruckus as twenty or so ladies fought for the privilege of being the first person to stuff marbles up my ass. Wondering briefly if I was dreaming, I decided that no dream could be quite this bizarre. Looking longingly at my phone in the corner I willed it to ring, but let's face it, no God was going to take pity on me. I might as well face up to the fact that tonight was going to be hell. As far as penance went I was going to taste a little of what Jen had dined on for the last few months. Would I be able to get through it just as elegantly as she had? It was doubtful.
Sophia had spared no expense on her choice of marbles. Inside those shiny clear spheres were shimmering ribbons of colour in every shade imaginable. The women took great pleasure in parading them in front of my eyes with their gloved fingers, before rubbing their poisonous beauty around my body. Holy hell did that stuff burn. Think of hot chilli powder mixed with a muscle relaxant, such as deep heat. Now imagine it far worse, because the oils that Sophia had used were not diluted in any form. If that weren't bad enough, the ladies knew just where to rub it too. Nipples, lips, balls, and all over my back and ass that had been spanked earlier. The stuff burned through my veins with the tenacity of a forest fire. Pain erupted in liquid waves all around me, stinging my eyes and abrading my skin. The smell was enough to make me want to vomit, and the fumes were so noxious I almost didn't want to breathe. The whole ordeal was vile and could only have been thought up by Sophia.
Just before they'd begun a heavy silver collar had been placed around my neck, and they'd attached a thick metal chain to the silver D-ring that resided in the centre of it, under my chin. At first I wasn't sure if it was for aesthetic purposes, or if they intended to lead me around by it. Later I would discover that they'd use it for both those purposes and more.
It was uncomfortable and heavy, and a constant reminder of my status, which was why they'd placed it upon my neck. They intended to have their fun, and a part of me was quite happy to let them. If they wanted to crush me, belittle me, walk all over me with their spike heels and flay the skin from my back, I wasn't about to stop them. A few hours of penance was a small price to pay for my crimes, and even by my own reckoning I hadn't suffered nearly enough. They were beginning to even up the balance though.
As the jar began its slow journey around the wide circle of seated women all eyes were upon me. Perhaps they hoped I'd make a run for it, though I daresay most of them knew better. When the first marble was retrieved and the first gloved finger beckoned me over I crawled forward obediently. I wasn't going to risk any more heavy voltage ripping through my cock, if I could possibly avoid it.
Bubbles looked me up and down cunningly as she thrust her marble out for me to look at. It was standard size, had a pretty blue ribbon, and smelled awful. As much as I wanted to back away from the thing I held my ground.
'Come a little closer, pet.' Shuffling forward I waited to see where she intended to inflict the first dose of fire. In order to make me sweat she rolled it between her index finger and thumb, until I felt almost mesmerised by the thing. Finally she laughed.
'Where would you like me to put it?' With her other hand she traced a slow line from my forehead down to the tip of my nose. I nearly went cross-eyed as I tried to think up a suitable reply to that question.
'How about my big toenail, Ma'am?' I was pretty sure it couldn't do a lot of damage if she put it on there. The coven laughed.
'Stop messing around Naomi and get on with it, else none of us will be getting any sleep tonight,' said Vivian, who was clearly impatient to have her turn, judging by the tapping of her fingernails and the amount of times she crossed and uncrossed her legs.
'Hold your horses, Viv, you'll get your turn.' Naomi didn't look at Vivian as she spoke; her eyes were firmly on me. Tracing a fingernail around my nipple she pinched and then pulled it slowly towards her, so I had to shuffle forward to ensure she didn't pull the thing from my body. 'Relax pretty boy, I'll go easy on you as I'm the first.'
Running her fingernail a couple of times around my areola, just hard enough to graze, she then held the marble inches away from the same spot.
'Hold your breath, darling.' That was wasted advice, because I already had.
The marble gently swirled around my nipple, one, two, three times, before it was taken away. At first I felt nothing. I simply watched as Bubbles curled her fist up, brought it into her body and then swung her arm back to release it. There was a sharp click as it bounced upon the floor and then it skittered away across the other end of the room. I was already chasing after it.
You see, I'd figured out that the quicker I collected all these marbles the better, because this was a game of seconds, minutes, and hours. The longer the oil was upon my body the worse the burn would get, so my task needed to be completed as quickly as possible. The ladies would make me wait of course, but I would do what I could to limit the damage upon my skin.
Watching the errant marble as it rolled to a halt, I picked it up gingerly with my lips and scurried back to Bubbles. The area around my nipple had started to burn and I knew my lips wouldn't be far behind it. After picking up twenty marbles my mouth was going to be in intense pain, but I suspected that wasn't going to be the worst of my woes. They would begin shortly.
'Good boy,' said Bubbles, patting me on the head condescendingly as she held out her hand, waiting for me to release the damn marble. I did so as quickly as I could, already feeling the fire begin to seep into my lips. This was probably going to be one of the worst things I had ever done, but at least I'd live to tell the tale. And once my mind had focused on Jen it was hard to remove her. I wondered whether she liked submitting to me, or whether she hated it just as much as I did. If she did come back from the dead could we work around what had happened? Where there was a will there was a way - surely? I was prepared to make massive compromises if she agreed to stay with me. Hell, I'd even go back to vanilla sex if it made her happy. As long as I was with her everything would be okay. Somehow I'd make it work - if she let me, which was doubtful at best.
'Now, do I put this in your ass or do I bury it somewhere wet and warm for you?'
A deep, throaty voice snapped me back into the here and now, and I watched her carefully, waiting for the verdict.
'Hmm, I think I'll hide it here.' Unsnapping the two poppers of her red leather corset she made short work of pushing the marble deep inside herself. Clearly my idea of 'no sex' and Sophia's weren't quite the same. We needed to have a chat about exactly what constituted sexual arrangements and what didn't. We appeared to have very different opinions upon the subject.
'Go get it, pet.' In case I was unsure of what to do, Bubbles grabbed my head and pressed it between her crotch. Unless I wanted to suffocate there was only one thing to do. My tongue got to work quickly. The woman needed to be screaming the rafters down in double quick time, and if she did it with enough enthusiasm, hopefully an orgasm would be the preferred choice amongst this unruly lot. My ass didn't want to take too much of the other kind of punishment, so clearly it was in my best interests to perform well.
Thankfully my years of training under Sophia didn't let me down, and the marble was actually an added bonus. Once I'd delicately retrieved it I found I could use it between my lips to apply little pulses of pressure upon Bubbles' clit, run it up and down her sex with varying speeds, or thrust the tiny beast in and out of her soaking wet hole. It didn't seem to matter whatever I did, because the woman was already revved up to explosion point and two minutes later she began hopping up and down in her chair whilst screaming the rafters down. Score one for me.
Turning to my next conquest, Dahlia, I smothered a sigh. She was fucking evil, so I braced myself for the worst. Sure enough, when she plucked a marble from the jar it was one of the larger varieties, and she let me take a good look at its bright red ribbon. The thing screamed danger in at least twenty languages. As the marble was bigger it would have more of the awful oil to spread around, it would also be harder to carry in my mouth, and I didn't want to think about the other part.
'Isn't it pretty?' I was inclined to disagree, but I nodded my head.
She gave me a predatory smile. 'How about you turn around for me, pet?' In case I was incredibly stupid and couldn't follow simple commands, the woman backed up her words with a swirl of her index finger. I had no choice but to obey, although I was beginning to wonder just how badly I wanted my whipping.
'Beautiful. Put your feet under your backside, stretch that naked body out for me, and extend those arms along the floor, as far as they'll go.' What that basically meant was present your ass for me, so I knew what was coming. Sure enough a gloved finger began to run down the lower vertebrae in my back, and I couldn't help a shudder. It was probably worse knowing exactly what was going to happen in advance.
'Ass up in the air, darling.' I was not her darling but I complied, albeit grudgingly.
The marble came down between my ass cheeks, and she rolled the damn thing gently along my flesh to make sure she got maximum value for money. I had to clamp my lips down upon a very impressive array of swear words. The burn was going to be excruciating, but I could bear it. When she reached my balls she turned the marble over and over upon the sensitive flesh there, making sure every last drop of ointment had been removed. I couldn't help a shudder.
'Are you ready to go fetch, pet?' Dahlia waved the marble around in the air. Her delaying tactics greatly irritated me, but there wasn't a lot I could do. Nodding, I waited patiently as the fire began to burn between my thighs. She took her time about it. Turning to Bubbles she began chatting about me as if I wasn't there, and it took a good couple of minutes for the pair to shut up. Meanwhile I sat there, trying my hardest not to move, but it wasn't easy when it felt like someone had applied neat chilli oil around my ass. Talk about burn.
'Are you sure you're ready, pet?' Ah, so this was the game we were playing. Obviously I hadn't put enough enthusiasm into the last nod, so nodding incredibly enthusiastically, I even smiled for the bitch. It must have been enough for the marble sailed past my nose, bouncing and clunking, and there was little left for me to do but chase it. It was easy enough to retrieve, being decidedly bigger than the last one, but I crawled back towards Dahlia with a good degree of trepidation. Dropping the large marble carefully in her gloved hand I waited for her next command.
'Turn, pet. Assume the position once more.' The swirling finger that accompanied her command blurred in front of my eyes and my heartbeat echoed in my ears. Turn. The first time is always the hardest. After what seemed like an age my body turned around for her, and I presented my ass just as she'd requested. That marble would be the first of many to be buried deep inside me. Now my torture had really begun.
Chapter Fourteen - Leyland
Marianna devoured pain much like Goldilocks devoured porridge. The woman was downright greedy. Rather than begging me to stop, there'd been a few instances where she'd actually begged me for more. Things were most certainly not going to plan. This wasn't a problem. I was a resourceful man and something would come to me. Eventually.
Laying my electrified fly swatters down on the floor I took a break for a moment, to stretch my arms and legs. It was all right for her, she just got to hang there. I actually had to put some effort into it.
Pacing a couple of times around the room and rotating my shoulder blades, I managed to loosen myself up again in relatively short order. Looking back at her, I noticed that she didn't seem at all bothered by my treatment of her thus far. Having taken a crop to her clit and tethered breasts, I was rather bemused to find that it had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience for her. I'd just have to hope that having her clit pierced would be a different matter. Knowing my damned luck the woman would probably orgasm from it.
'Why did you choose to work for Matthews?' I didn't expect her to answer, but I was going to continue firing questions at her until I found out what I needed to know.
'Money.' I nearly jumped when the soft sound of her voice graced my ears. She'd been silent for the better part of an hour now and I figured she'd stay silent until I pushed her over the edge, but obviously this was not the case.
'Are you talking to me now?' I frowned at her.
'That's a stupid question.' She was right, that was a stupid question. I needed to rephrase it.
'Why are you talking to me now, when you've been silent for the past hour?' That, in my humble opinion, was a better question.
'Because you've asked me a question I can answer.'
I raised an eyebrow at her. 'Have you signed The Official Secrets Act or something?' She didn't look like an MI6 girl to me, and if she had been anything to do with them she'd have been rescued by now. Whilst Mark's resources were plentiful, theirs would eclipse his in an instant.
'Hardly.' She then blew upwards to remove one of her corkscrew curls from her face, which had stuck to her forehead during our last little game. It remained stubbornly in place.
'So who employed you?' It didn't take me long to realise we were back to silence again. Okay, we could work around this for the time being.
'Why did you decide to work for your "new" employer?' Maybe she'd answer that question. It was worth a try.
'Money.' Aha. We'd made some progress. Money, money, money. The girl was a mercenary, but then I'd found that most women were given half a chance.
'So you sold out to the highest bidder?' I was trying to piece this together in my head. Mark probably hadn't shown her a lot of attention, she'd been jealous of all the other women in his office, and to get revenge she'd decided to do the dirty on him. Obviously she would have been paid a lot of money for her troubles, and if she was none too smart she probably thought she'd get away with it.
'Something like that.' Damn. Now she was clamming up on me again.
'Do you want a coffee?' I needed a coffee. I didn't really care if she wanted one or not, but if she was going to talk to me I decided I'd be friendly for the time being.
'I'll pass, thanks all the same.' She gave me a sour look.
'Suit yourself.' I shrugged and stretched my neck from side to side again. Coffee was exactly what I needed. A strong cup of something bitter and black would refocus me. I grinned to myself and started walking purposefully towards the door.
'Don't go anywhere until I come back, okay?' I winked at her.
Thankfully Matthews had thought to equip the place with food and drink. The refrigerator was full to bursting and the coffee machine - one of those pod style things - had a decent array of choices. All I needed to know was which was the strongest variety? Which sodding brand of coffee would get me through the next fifteen hours or so without me nodding off? Typically, everything on the pods was in Italian. Trust Matthews to be a fancy bastard. It looked like this might be a process of experimentation and elimination, but in the end I went with something called Fortissimo. The pod was a dark black in colour, so that was as good an indication as any I guessed.
Choosing the pod was relatively easy - getting the blasted machine to work was another thing entirely. There was no instruction manual, of course. Pressing buttons and watching red and green lights flash on and off was a rather fun game, but ultimately produced no coffee. So, this was to be an initiation test. It was me against the coffee machine - who would win? The answer was obvious - me, eventually.
It took me ten long minutes to find out that I had to put water in the machine first. This is why I employed secretaries. Who needed this kind of pain? When the thing finally produced a decent cup of strong black stuff I wanted to fist pump the air in celebration. Steady, Leyland, I reminded myself. There was a good chance I had an evening of long, hard, and exacting work ahead of me. Whilst the coffee machine might have been reasonably easy to crack, I was beginning to think that Marianna might not be.
'Darling, sorry to keep you waiting.' When I pushed open the door to check in on the delightful Marianna it was to find her blinking her eyes sleepily at me. The woman had been nodding off! Jesus. What was wrong with her? She should be quivering in fear right now, and yet here she was taking a little nap. If anyone caught wind of this my reputation would be in tatters. Stomping towards my holdall I decided I'd better get on with things.
'We're going with clit piercing next. Feel free to spill the beans first, if you'd like to avoid this particular body modification. I've heard it's not without its own fair share of pain.' My voice sounded a little cross, but I generally wasn't used to women falling asleep on me. Maybe I was losing my touch?
'Pierce away.' She sounded blithely unconcerned, which made me even more cross, but I decided the quickest way to get her a little chattier was to do exactly what I said I would. As I retrieved my needle, the little silver barbell, and some antiseptic wipes, I watched Marianna wriggle around a little. The cuffs had to be chaffing by now and her nipples must be throbbing like hell. I was rather surprised she was handling the situation so well, judging by her earlier histrionics in the bathroom.
'I've heard that clit piercings can increase sexual pleasure.'
'They can if they're done correctly,' I affirmed. 'But there's also the chance that I could butcher your clit which means you might never be able to orgasm again. Hmm, which one to go for? Decisions, decisions.' Thankfully she didn't know that I would never do something like that, because for me, seeing a woman's eyes light up with pleasure was one of the seven wonders of the modern World. The beautiful sheen in their eyes, the way their eyelashes fluttered closed, and the exquisite, thready little sounds that came from their throats as they approached the land of no return were the sights and sounds I lived for.
'Oh.' She sounded a little crestfallen, but made no further attempts at conversation. What was wrong with her?
'Won't you miss being able to orgasm, sweetness?' So I was tormenting her. That was what I was here for.
'Yes. But I've gone around two years without an orgasm, so I'll probably get used to it eventually.' Her lips were pouting prettily, and her incredibly beautiful face was so damn distracting I almost forgot what I was doing.
It was a good five seconds before I managed to process her statement. It took an age to get my eyes off her lips. 'You've done what?' How anyone could go two years without sexual pleasure was beyond me. Surely the woman was lying? I had a rough idea that Matthews wouldn't have used her much, but surely she had pleasured herself?
'Matthews, as you already suspected, didn't think much of me when I arrived. He gave me a table at the back of his office and ignored me - completely. Unfortunately under the terms of his contract I was not allowed to orgasm without permission. There are cameras all over the place in our apartments and I never took a risk when at work. I couldn't afford to lose my job.'
'Yet, you did anyway when you sold him out. How does that work?' My lip curled upwards in a sneer. Nothing she was saying was making sense.
'Someone offered to pay me a lot more money than Matthews was paying me. It was enough to set me up for twenty years or more. All I had to do was drug him. It was too easy.'
'And yet here we are, and it doesn't look so easy now.' I raised my eyebrow, very interested to hear her response.
'It doesn't matter, now.' That didn't make any sense either, and my eyes bulged out of my head as I tried to figure out what she was telling me. Bah. Who the hell cared anyway? She'd sing like a canary before long.
'Any preference to where you'd like your clit pierced?' There was only one place that I was going to pierce it, but I hoped my comment might send the message home. I was going to do this and she'd either better start talking or brace herself.
'I didn't know there was more than one place to pierce yourself down there. Do whatever you think best... or worst,' she added on a sigh.
I wasn't sure I could believe what I was hearing. I'd already told her there was a possibility that she might never orgasm again, and the threat appeared to have fallen on deaf ears. I wasn't lying either. For starters, as with any surgical procedure, there is a risk of infection and any kind of piercing can take several months to heal.
'I am going to do this,' I threatened for the very last time. 'If you're going to speak up you'd better do so now.' Pulling on a pair of latex gloves I tore open the packet of a single sterile wipe and applied it directly to her clit. If I was going to kill her I was extremely concerned about hygiene, I thought, somewhat wryly. Giving Marianna one last look, it was to find her eyes tightly closed and her hands curled into fists. She was serious about keeping her secrets then. Very well. It was time to see what a good dose of pain could do towards loosening her up. If I wasn't much mistaken, her tongue would be wagging in no time.
Picking up the NRT (Needle Receiving Tube) I walked slowly towards her, letting her get a good eyeful of the glistening barbell in its grasp.
'Who is your employer?' I placed the needle against her clitoris glans, incorrectly, because I would be piercing the hood. She didn't have to know that though. Rubbing my latex covered finger over her clitoris and pulsating it several times, I watched it gently swell to life. 'All I want is a name.' My voice was soft now, and my breath warm on her neck as my fingers worked her clit. 'Just a name.'
'And then what? All of this will stop? I think not. I think you're enjoying yourself and that this session will not stop until you have what you want from me.' Damn. The woman was far too astute for her own good. She was right. I was enjoying myself - immensely, as it happened.
'Have it your way.' I pressed the needle firmly against her exposed glans and she gasped.
'Does it hurt, sweetheart?' I gazed at her directly and she held my stare, those green gems sparkling with fire.
'Not as much as it's about to.' She moaned as my fingers began circling her little organ, pressing down a little harder with each swirl they took.
'And do you like pain?' I think I already knew the answer to that question, but I asked it anyway.
'Yes, I like pain. Do you?' Her voice was breathy and seductive. The urge to kiss her was there again, but if I succumbed to it my position of power would be lost.
'It has its place in the grand scheme of things, though I prefer dishing it out to receiving it.' Another quick jab with the needle into her most delicate flesh had her hissing at me.
'Just do it. Stop fucking about.' Her tone was clipped.
'Are you trying to rush me?' No one told me what to do and got away with it.
'It's rather difficult to rush someone when your arms and legs are in cuffs.' She rolled her eyes at me. The cheek of the woman! Clearly I did not make good dungeon-master material.
'Were you scared of Matthews?' I narrowed my eyes at her. This was something I needed to know. Grasping her clit between my index and middle finger I pulled sharply. She growled.
'Yes, asshole. Yes, I was scared of Matthews.' Her throaty purr was so damn seductive it danced in my ears. I wondered if I could get her to work for me, given the right incentive, which was obviously lots of money.
'Why?' She couldn't have been that scared of him, else she wouldn't have stabbed him in the back. Men with lots of money wielded a ton of power, and she had to have known that. Even in his office she would have been slapped in the face with it several times.
Silence greeted my question. I'd pressed upon a nerve, it seemed. Interesting. Anyway, she was right, I'd messed around long enough. It was time to put my threat into action.
'Brace yourself, precious.'
I squatted down to evaluate her clitoris and see which type of piercing would suit her best. I'd performed a number of these procedures and let me tell you that not all clitorises are made equal. The idea of the piercing is to increase sexual pleasure. If placed incorrectly the piercing is for decorative purposes only, and quite honestly, a complete waste of time and money. Lucky for Marianna I was an expert. Well, it would have been lucky if she'd actually wanted the hood of her clitoris pierced. Anyway, she'd thank me later. I was about to transform her orgasms from standard into fucking amazing. Nearly all of the women I'd pierced had commented on how good sex had been afterwards. I'd put money on the fact that Marianna wouldn't be the exception to the rule.
I took my time as I decided which piercing would work best. I already knew I was going to give her a horizontal piercing, but her clit looked so damn pretty peeking up at me that I couldn't help but enjoy the view. Besides, I needed to get my heart rate under control. Who knew torture could be so exciting? Get it together, Leyland. Warming up the needle in my hand, because that's the kind of considerate guy I am, I took a few deep breaths to make sure my hand would be steady. This is not the kind of procedure that you fuck up. I would get a one shot chance to do it right, and I intended to do it properly. I believe in getting things right the first time, because I'm basically a self-made drugs lord (legal drugs, you understand), and if I fuck up people die and I get sued. I don't like getting sued, and I like talking to lawyers even less than getting sued, so I have a reputation for being particularly careful. With everything bar cars, that is, but that's another story.
Retrieving a Q-tip from my holdall I placed it just under the hood of her clitoris, noting that all of the absorbent tip disappeared from view. This meant Marianna was a good fit for the particular piercing I had in mind, and we could go ahead. There was no need for me to delay any further.
The needle went in and out quickly, the briefest of pinches, leaving a glimmering, curved barbell in its wake. This innocuous item of jewellery now rested upon Marianna's clit, upon a whole nest of delicious nerve-endings, and I was shortly going to send her crazy with it.
'I thought that was supposed to hurt.' She gave me a look that was almost disappointed. If it had been another place and another time, I might have laughed.
'I'm only just getting started, precious. I'll save putting a ring though your glans until later. Right now I think we should accompany a smidgeon of pain with a shitload of pleasure. What say you?' I smiled at her amiably.
'I thought you were here to torture me.' There was that note of disappointment again, I was sure of it.
'I am, precious, but if I have you screaming the halls down at the beginning of our session you'll have no energy left in an hour or two and you'll just hang limp from your chains.' Giving her a big smile I gently pressed down on her new item of jewellery and she moaned delightfully. God, I could get used to hearing those kinds of noises.
Mewling prettily in pleasure she then said, 'So what are you going to do in the meantime?'
I pretended to think about that for a moment, though I already knew exactly what I was going to do. 'Well, I could get out my knife, forceps, pliers and handsaw,' I said, with a deadpan face.
There was silence for a moment. 'Do you actually have those things in there?' The voice was very quiet now, and there wasn't half the spirit or fire in her eyes that had been there earlier. 'I do,' I said, lying.
'So you're going to pull my teeth and fingernails out?' She chewed her bottom lip again, this time so hard that she almost drew blood. Now I was the disappointed one. I found I had been enjoying her spunk, even if it had no place here. However I looked at it I had a job to do, and whilst I wasn't exactly best buddies with Matthews, I was going to find out who was behind this. If I had a wife (heaven forbid!) who was dying in hospital, and I was facing a possible prison sentence unless she woke up quickly, I had a feeling that Matthews would do the same for me - though he might protest a little.
'If I have to.' It wouldn't come to that. Besides, it'd be a crime to destroy a hair upon this woman's head. I might mess her up a little, but in a few days' time she'd barely remember me. Well, apart from every time she orgasmed, that was. I gave her a vicious grin as that thought came into my head and the woman went white as a sheet. Oops.
Chapter Fifteen - Mark
It took me over two hours to retrieve those twenty marbles. Up until around marble number eighteen I held it together. After that point I operated on automatic pilot, whilst trying desperately to separate my mind from my body. My mind was telling me I absolutely could do this, my body was on another level entirely. My level of abject misery had reached an all time high, and though that was why I was here, my body was beginning to think that maybe I had suffered enough. My subconscious disagreed.
'On a level of one to ten, with one being the lowest and ten being the highest, how's your pain threshold right now?' This was from Vivian. Great. That was all I needed; some random chitchat.
'It's reaching the higher end of the scale, Ma'am.' Amazed that I'd managed to keep my voice steady, I breathed long and slow, trying to keep a lid on the scream that wanted to bubble up through my chest and burst like a rocket from my throat. I was burning up. My body felt like it was being roasted on a spit, and no matter which way I turned the heat was terrible. It was as if I was melting from the inside out; blood, skin and bones turning liquid as they reached fever pitch. My forehead was dripping with sweat, my legs were trembling, and my pulse rate had gone through the roof. I wasn't going to be able to take much more of this, but I knew Sophia would push me to the limit, and I was going to be pretty close to that mark. She'd never bested me before, so I'd just have to hope that today was not going to be her day.
'I'll bet.' Vivian licked her lips. Here was a woman who loved to see a man in torment. She drank me in with her eyes and the intense excitement I could see there was a little disturbing. I couldn't help but wonder if she looked like this in the operating theatre, when she was slicing and dicing people up for a living. The thought was not a pretty one.
When she angled her head to assess me I knew something was afoot, and more importantly, something I would not like. Blinking a few times, probably wondering exactly what she could get away with where I was concerned, she then turned to Sophia. Clearing her throat loudly, to make sure she had everyone's attention, she then stood up.
'Maybe we could spice things up with a bit of abrasion play, Sophia? I could get my knives out, run the edges here and there, and then apply some of your delightful oil to soothe the sting.'
You fucking bitch, I thought. There was no question I would safe-word at that. No one was dipping a knife into my flesh for fun. Sophia already knew what my limits were in regards to that, so I wondered what she would do. She'd already pushed me over the edge, but whether she would test the boundaries of our arrangement remained to be seen. If she did we would no longer be friends, but maybe that wouldn't concern her. Whipping or no whipping, there was only so much I was prepared to take.
Sophia motioned for Vivian to sit down with a wave of her hand, though she had a smile on her face. She then turned to face me, although I wouldn't look at her. My gaze was firmly upon the floor, where it was supposed to be, and there it would stay.
'My, you are on form tonight, Vivian. I don't think that breaking out the knives would be a good idea, though. If I'm going to use the Cat later it would be just a little too cruel, don't you think?' Sophia pursed her lips and looked pointedly at Vivian.
Clearly her friend did not think that at all, judging by the look on her face, but she gave in gracefully. 'How about the pinwheel? Could I at least try that?' Risking a quick glance up to Vivian's face, the petulant, pleading look I saw there made me want to take a set of knives to her skin. Bet she wouldn't be quite so cocky after a couple of hours with me at the helm. Feeling white hot fury rip through me, because I was pretty sure Sophia would answer 'yes' to her request, I tried to think of all the ways I would torture Vivian if I ever had her at my mercy. They were many, varied, and incredibly evil.
'Yes, I think the pinwheel would be acceptable.' Sophia frowned slightly as she said it, but the end result didn't change. My worst fears were realised. The woman was going to stick needles into my flesh and then smear chilli and menthol oil in its wake. If I thought I was in pain now, the kind of agony I would feel in a few minutes was unimaginable.
'Be a dear and go and fetch the pinwheel, pet.' Vivian made a sharp movement with her finger and didn't even bother to look at me. Having a strong urge to sink my teeth into her flesh until I drew blood, I bottled it and did as I was told. Crawling towards the toy box, I began to wonder if the wait for the Cat would actually be worth it. My 'absolution', as it were, was coming at a decidedly high price.
When I reached the chest I knew exactly where the Wartenberg wheel was, but I messed around pretending to locate it for a moment or two. Needing to clear my head for what was to come, I concentrated on getting my shit together. Focus on the pain, concentrate on your breathing, relax your body, and remove yourself from it. My fingers closed around the cold metal of the pinwheel's handle and then the slow-motion mode that I'd been operating in sped up. If anyone thought I'd been slacking I would be punished. Could they punish me more than they already had? Well, that was anybody's guess, but I'd try to limit the damage where I could. Placing the handle in my lips I scurried back to Vivian on my hands and knees, noting that the cool metal soothed my burning lips somewhat. It was the calm before the storm. Prepare yourself, Matthews. This is going to get ugly.
When I offered the pinwheel up to Vivian her eyes brightened. The unholy gleam was back and I was at her mercy. Lucky me. I could already guess where the thing was going and I had reason to be thankful I was still wearing the damn cage. At least Sophia had thought to spare me that. Plucking a marble from the jar, which was thankfully a small one, Vivian made sure she gathered a good dollop of the remaining goo from the bottom of the jar upon her glove. Brandishing the pinwheel in her right hand and the marble and ointment in her left, the woman set to work.
Starting on my backside, she ran the spikes of the pinwheel upon my reddened, burning flesh. Now the chilli and menthol had a chance to seep beneath my skin, and that was really pleasant, let me tell you. Vivian studied my face the whole time. She wanted to see how long it would take the impressive façade I was maintaining to break. Little did she know that no matter what she did to me, there was no way I would break under her hand. My pride wouldn't allow it. Sophia would have that dubious honour before the end of this session was out. She was used to picking up my pieces.
The pinwheel ran across my back, shoulder blades, and slowly, very slowly, down my arms. Vivian was wasting her time there. No one had thought to apply the oil to them. It also ran across my stomach, chest, and up the side of my neck. Not to be beaten I even angled it, so she could apply a little more pressure there.
The whole time she was working I didn't hear a sound from her lips. The other ladies liked to talk to me, and some told me what they were about to do before they did it, but not Vivian. She had always treated me little better than an animal, and I suspected the same could be said for all the men in her charge. Someone had done a number on that woman a long time ago. I'd bet money on it. Still that was her problem, not mine.
My problem was trying to get the lady to hurry up. Everyone had a limit and mine was fast approaching. I was gritting my teeth so hard I wouldn't be surprised if I lost a few fillings in a minute. Up and down the damn pinwheel went. She even had the audacity to use the damn thing on my face. The tips of my ears, my cheeks, my nose, one by one those pins tracked their way across me. Her eyes tried to burn their way into mine, even though they were dipped respectfully to the floor. It was obvious she wanted to see me in pain. After a good ten minutes or so of this treatment, and the sound of chair legs scraping and nervous whispers, I wondered whether Sophia would intervene. It was another minute or so before I heard the delicate cough I was waiting for.
'Vivian, darling, I think he's probably suffered enough. Be a dear and finish your turn. Margo has been waiting very patiently, haven't you, sweetheart?' Margo nodded, and I knew both would be looking pointedly in my tormentor's direction.
'Oh, you spoilsports,' said Vivian, sighing heavily. 'Fine, I'll finish up and be a good girl.' There was another sigh, which had Sophia rolling her eyes, but Vivian was as good as her word. She took less than sixty seconds to complete her task from that cough, but she made use of every single one of them.
First she motioned for me to stand up, and I did so obediently. Then she took the pinwheel to my balls and boy did she do a number on me. I couldn't watch what she was doing, but if you can imagine someone running a cheese grater down some of the most delicate skin on your anatomy, you would probably get a rough idea of the pain I was in, provided you added in the fiery muscle-rub style mixture, which she then applied as liberally as she could. The pain was utterly excruciating. I was doing my best to imagine myself down at the bottom of the ocean, somewhere near the North Pole, freezing my ass off next to a glacier. It wasn't helping much, but at least it was keeping my brain occupied.
The pinwheel then went under my legs and up through the crack of my ass. Spike by solid spike, nice and slow, with plenty of pressure, followed by the molten marble of fire. My eyes were now watering, but there was little I could do about it. It was taking every single ounce of willpower I possessed to stand still and take it. A lesser man would have grabbed the woman's throat and throttled her to within an inch of her life, and let me tell you that the thought was tempting. Just before I thought the pinwheel might actually be embedding itself in my ass, due to the fact she'd pressed it down so damn hard, I felt the marble being slid inside me. My eyes closed tightly for a moment, but just a moment, and the hiss that escaped my lips was bitten down upon but not disguised completely.
'At least I saved you the trouble of chasing it,' she remarked. 'You may thank me now, pet.' She patted my head, waiting for me to obey.
It took me a couple of seconds to get my fury under control, but somehow I managed it. Returning to my knees, I crawled over to the bitch and kissed her feet with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Love thine enemy, even when the woman is clearly a deranged demon from hell. When she patted my back to indicate that my job was complete, I moved on without a backward glance.
To this day I can't remember what Margo did to me. I was vibrating with an unholy anger that thankfully gave me the strength to carry on, when perhaps I would have fallen. So maybe I had Vivian to thank for something, but that woman had better hope she never laid eyes on me again.
'Pet? Pet, come here, darling. Come here sweetheart.' I had no idea how many times Sophia had to repeat those words, but they echoed over and over and in my head, swirling through jumbled thoughts and fractured pictures, before eventually I managed to make sense of them. As I finally obeyed her instructions, crawling forward to rest at her feet, I wondered if she would have something else in store for me before the whip. I sincerely hoped not, but my thoughts and wishes didn't matter here. This is how Jennifer would have felt at Albrecht, and you would have left her there. Although I wouldn't have had much of a choice in the matter, the words were true.
Sophia motioned for me to put my head on her lap, and I did so gratefully. She then bent down gracefully to whisper in my ear. 'Do you want to safe-word, Mark? I think you've probably had enough, darling, but it's your call.'
It was my call and if I'd been thinking half clearly I should have put a stop to things then. Unfortunately my brain was high on endorphins and I was seeing red. I wanted that Cat, and I would go through hell and high water to get it.
'No. Let's continue.' The words were firm. Had I said them with the merest tremor Sophia might have called it, but I think even she was curious to see how much of this torment I could take.
'Have it your own way, Matthews, but you'll regret it.' Lifting her head she peered into my eyes and gave me a long stare. This was my last chance to escape the room. Did I want to take it?
'Understood.' So I'd regret it. Sometimes it was better to do something and have regrets, than be too afraid to do it at all. Sophia had taught me that a long time ago.
'You haven't changed.' She gave me a bittersweet smile and her voice held a hint of something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Was it regret? I mentally shook my head. Sophia didn't know the meaning of the word.
Clapping her hands above her head to get the attention of the crowd she then said, 'Ladies, it's time to put him out of his misery and cool him down.' When no one made a move to put me out of my discomfort she rounded them up like a rodeo star. 'Quick, quick, ladies. I know you're not afraid of getting messy. After that we can move on to game number two. Now I know you're going to enjoy that, because I'm pretty excited about the prospect myself.
Twenty-odd women then descended on me, to smooth gallons of freezing cold plain yogurt upon my body. They even removed their gloves to get as up close and personal as possible. Did I enjoy it? Kind of. It was like a really enthusiastic, albeit messy massage. It involved equal parts of pain and pleasure, depending on who was doing the massage and where. When they'd finished with the yogurt they took great pleasure in hosing me down, with ice-cold water, of course. Then they set about oiling me up with olive oil. In no time at all the burn had dissipated to a bearable level, and dare I say it, I was almost feeling relaxed under their mostly gentle but firm hands. I'm a tactile person, always have been, and the soothing feeling of skin-to-skin contact helps me to unwind. The effect wasn't quite as good as it could have been, due to the fact I had no idea what Sophia had planned next. I could only hope it wouldn't be any worse than what I'd suffered so far.
Less than thirty minutes later I was dressed from head to toe in a black rubber suit, complemented by a leather bondage hood that had just one hole. That hole was for my mouth. So I was in a world of darkness, with my nose covered. This I could almost cope with, although this kind of play certainly wasn't one of my favourites. Alas, things got worse from there on in. The ladies saw fit to reapply both sets of cuffs, but this time my hands were fastened behind my back, to make me feel just that little bit more vulnerable and uncomfortable. If that weren't bad enough a sodding gas mask complete with rubber hose was placed over the hood I was already wearing. This made me mightily uncomfortable, even though there was no valve fitted and I wasn't breathing under pressure. There was still only one way for the air to come in and out, but I didn't expect for a moment that it would be that simple. This was another of Sophia's games, and there would be a catch somewhere along the line. I wondered how long I would have to wait in order to find out.
'Doesn't he look gorgeous in black?'
'What a helpless, pathetic little thing he is.'
'Are we going to feed him something or are we experimenting with breath play?'
Although their voices were very muffled and I had to strain hard to hear each little word, I could just about make out the conversations going on around me. It would have been a lot kinder if they'd given me some earplugs. The last thing I needed to know was what they had in store for me. I already knew roughly what they were capable of, and that was a hell of a lot more than I was comfortable with. I hoped Sophia knew what she was doing.
I'd been given a safe 'symbol' before they trussed me up like a turkey dinner, but it didn't make me feel a whole lot better. I already had an inkling of what I was in for and it gave me heart palpitations. As I had always refused water sports, it was unlikely Sophia was going to try that. She hadn't overridden any of my previous limits thus far, and I didn't think she'd start now. Unfortunately that just left breath play, and that was just as scary if not more scary than just about anything I have ever done in a scene. There were twenty evil women in the room, and one single hose controlling the air I breathed. This could be heart attack material. Just breathe. Yeah, that was pretty much the problem.
Someone purred in my ear, 'Can you guess what we're going to do to you?' I thought it was Scarlett but I wasn't one hundred percent positive. Everything seemed distorted and jumbled through the thick leather of the hood. Whoever it was, I hoped she didn't expect an answer. I had two metres of black plastic hosing where my mouth should be.
'Have you done this to him before?' This sentence wasn't directed at me and I only just managed to pick up every other word, but filling in the blanks wasn't too hard. Although I didn't hear the response the answer should have been 'no'. Sophia and I had played about with sensory deprivation before, but we'd not done much in the way of breath play. Apparently she was about to make up for lost time.
Someone took told of my rubber hose and began shouting something into it. This time I couldn't make head or tail of what was being said, but everyone else in the room laughed. That meant it was nothing I wanted to hear, so it was just as well. Trying to calm myself down I concentrated on my breathing. Telling myself to relax was easier than it sounded, because I knew that this was only the start of Sophia's game. It would only get worse from here on in.
I should point out that my suit left one item of my anatomy free, but just one. My cage protruded proudly from a hole that was around five inches wide at my crotch, and that concerned me too. Still, I had bigger things to worry about. Someone was playing with the rubber hose again.
'Pet, nod your head if you can hear me clearly.' That was Sophia, and she was easy to understand because she spoke very loudly. I nodded my head as instructed.
'Good. Can you show me your safe symbol?' Obediently I banged my feet against the floor. Had it been any other type of activity that didn't involve breath play it would have been at least two or three bangs, but if they were going to get me lightheaded they had to be careful. The amount of adrenaline running through my body at the moment was nearing overload, which told me I was extremely excited and pretty damn apprehensive about the whole ordeal. Whilst I wasn't about to safe-word until I'd at least tried this, I wouldn't hesitate if I thought they were putting me in danger. Basically, if anyone tried to kill me I was going to make short work of killing them - if I wasn't already dead, of course.
'Pet, there are sensors inside your suit that are now being hooked up to an ECG machine. We will be monitoring your pulse rate and breathing the entire time, so there's no need to panic.' It was Sophia again, her voice loud and crystal clear. Easy for you to say, Lady, I thought, but it did at least explain the wires I'd seen earlier trailing from the suit. At least they weren't going to shock the hell out of me. That was something, I guessed.
'Remember to bang those feet if you feel lightheaded or if you're going to faint.' I nodded again. 'Even if you need a time out, bang those feet. I mean it, pet,' she added threateningly. With that she was gone.
That left me anxiously wondering what the hell was coming next, and there was little I could do but wait patiently. The seconds ticked by painfully slowly, each one growing in size until they began to explode in my head. My world felt as if it had suddenly gotten a lot smaller, and the confines of my rubber suit were stifling. The talking had stopped, and although there was activity around me, judging by the soft footsteps, they were doing their utmost to keep me in the dark. Well, they'd be pleased to know they'd succeeded. I had no idea what was coming next. All I knew was I wasn't going to like it.
So, one moment I was happily sucking in air through my rubber tube and the next I wasn't. That gave me a bit of a shock. The first indication I had that something was up was when a) I couldn't breathe and b) the sound of bubbling water hit me. The bitches were trying to drown me. Holy fuck, I did not sign up for torture by water boarding, and I wasn't hiding any state secrets to my knowledge. I realised I was still holding my breath and wondered whether I should panic. My feet began to lift in the air.
'It's a bubbler bottle, Mark. Your hose is connected to a bottle that's half-filled with water. Don't worry, you still have access to fresh air, but you're going to have to work much harder if you want to breathe. Suck really hard and you'll find what you're looking for.' She held my hand and grasped it tightly, urging me to do as she said.
The encouraging squeeze was wasted. I sucked as hard as I could, and sure enough I managed to get some air up through my hose. It took four long pulls before I became happy that I would be able to do this for a little while at least. The witches were probably falling about in hysterics about my heart rate at the moment, but I'd like to see one of them go through this shit without a spike of adrenaline.
'That's great. Keep it up, pet.' This was accompanied by another squeeze. It was oddly comforting this time.
Lying there, horizontal on the cold tiles, I could concentrate on little but the effort required to pull air into my lungs. I was trying to imagine what the bubbler bottle looked like, and I wondered if I'd seen one before. An image of a large plastic bottle with valves sprang to mind. Maybe I'd read about it somewhere, or seen it at a show. Anyway, it didn't matter now. I could read all about it later, after the event.
All in all it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The Darth Vader style sound I made as I sucked air in and out was vaguely hypnotic after a while, and although the moisture droplets travelling up the hose annoyed me a little, it wasn't anything I couldn't cope with. But the witches weren't going to be happy watching me laying here for long. They wanted entertainment, and lots of it - most of which would be had at my expense.
Sure enough, in relatively short order I felt some fumbling around my crown jewels. Oh God, what now? There were muffled voices all around me, but I couldn't hear a thing through the bubbles I was blowing. Please don't let them castrate me, I prayed, and it was only a half humorous thought.
It didn't take me long to figure out that they were removing my 'cage'. This did not bode well. I needed all my wits about me right now just to pull air into my chest. The last thing I needed was a group of women pulling things about down there. Aha! Bingo. The penny finally dropped. Game number two was going to be all about air. They were hoping to distract me, and as soon as I lost my concentration I would be in serious trouble. The closer I got to orgasm the harder and faster my heart would have to work, and the more oxygen my body would need. They were trying to crack me open wide and tear out my insides.
Fuck them. They had no idea who they were dealing with. I was much stronger than the whole room of them combined. My wife was on her deathbed, and yet here I was keeping it together - no thanks to them. There was nothing this lot could do to me that would be any worse than the predicament I already found myself in. Whilst suffering might not bring my wife back, at least it would give me something to focus on for the next couple of hours. It would also exhaust me and that, I knew from experience, was the only way I was likely to get any sleep. Hitting the land of nod had never been one of my talents, and under stress I found it nearly impossible. I needed to get through this evening. Things always looked better after some sleep.
My subconscious quickly informed me that a dead wife would not look better after anything, and I told it to shut up. Jennifer was not going to die. Someone up there was going to feel my pain and hear my prayers. They'd have to be stone cold deaf not to, once Sophia unleashed the Cat.
The fingers worked tirelessly upon my cock but I chose to ignore them - as much as I could. Every brain cell I possessed was screaming breathe in and out, and my chest rose and fell rhythmically to this warning. I tried to treat the tormenting fingers as nothing more than annoyances and directed my attention towards my wife. Questions began pouring through my head, and though I was sure I had no answers for them as yet, I might as well start thinking about them. What would I say to her when she awoke? Deciding I would think positively, I tried to imagine us as a conventional husband and wife. Could we work something out if we both decided to trust each other? That was a big 'if'. It was more than likely that she wouldn't want to lay eyes on me. Was there any possible way I could ever earn her trust back? There was one thing I couldn't do - one thing all the money in the world could never buy. I couldn't make her love me. What I could do was shower her with my love and affection, and if that didn't work, basically stalk her until she gave in. Now there was a healthy thought. It did make me realise, however, that I would be prepared to do an awful lot to get back in Jennifer's good graces.
The hands were all over me now. Though the rubber suit was thick I could still feel them running up and down my body. The ones upon my cock were doing the most damage though. They were rough, greedy hands, and they wanted me hard. As much as I tried to fight them, little by little they were wearing down my reserve. I could almost feel all the blood in my body being happily redirected into my cock, and as soon as that happened I was lost. There wasn't enough fight in me to resist this lot. When one pair of hands tired another took over, and they were all over me, all the time. Warm fingers gently rolled my balls in their practised grip, whilst others slid up and down my cock with ease. Fingernails ran wild; caressing the silky flesh they'd left uncovered, and when they got the chance, also squeezed the tip of my cock. All of this I could have just about withstood, although I'd already missed a couple of breaths, here and there. Making up for the lack of oxygen, when I lost concentration, was beginning to take its toll. A feeling of euphoria began to wash over me, and I knew I was getting lightheaded. Redoubling my efforts I sucked a couple of deep breaths into me and sent the bottle into a bubbling frenzy. A few more and my head finally stopped swirling. I was not going to let these women beat me. Um, actually I was going to let these women beat me, but only with whips and paddles. There was no energy in me for laughter, and I'd probably choke on it regardless, so once again I diverted my attention.
Where was Redcliff? Had Khalil managed to get a hold of his whereabouts yet? I also wondered how Forbes was getting on with the lovely Marianna. Not overly confident that he'd get anything out of her, I thought I might as well let him have a go while I was preoccupied. If somehow he did manage to uncover all of her dirty secrets I might actually be ahead of the game for once, although I wasn't going to get my hopes up. Technically I was already aware who was employing her - Redcliff. What I really wanted to know was whether she knew anything more than the basics, and how long she had been planted in my office. Was it a recent thing, or could it have been when she started around two years ago? If so, that was some pretty impressive long-term planning on Michael's behalf. My thoughts completely fractured and splintered after that, but there was a very good reason that my head had gone to La La Land.
The witches had obviously been a bit disappointed that they weren't getting quite the reaction they expected with their hands and fingers. Whilst they'd managed to get me stiff, they hadn't managed to make me orgasm, and they'd been playing with me for a good half an hour or so. Give or take ten minutes, because it was kind of hard to tell the time without a watch. Anyway, clearly not about to be bested, one of them had decided to go down on me, which in my personal opinion violated the 'no sex' rule again, though not necessarily if you were in a certain ex-American president's camp. God damn it. There was no way I could hold myself back from a tight wet throat. No way in hell. The friction, the warmth, the amazing tightness of being lodged firmly inside someone's mouth had always been one of my downfalls, and Sophia knew this. I must have been fucking special, because it was virtually unheard of for the witches to perform any kind of action that might provide pleasure to their underlings. Mind you, they wanted to cut off my air supply while I orgasmed, so perhaps the end result justified the means.
Stiffening to full mast my groin exploded to life, and sure enough I forgot to breathe. This time recovering was a bit more of a challenge. Whoever was sucking my cock was doing so with great talent and enthusiasm, and I needed twice the air that was available in order to keep my vital signs happy. The water in the bubbler bottle was going to be turned into a lake of volcanic lava by the time I was finished. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
If I'd been thinking clearly I'd have probably banged my feet about then. Instead I gurgled, spluttered and choked, while wisps of euphoria began to swim in my head. It was actually quite pleasant, in a dangerous kind of way. Giving in to the sensations all around I ceased to care about breathing or air. All I wanted to do was to give in to the delicious, voracious little mouth that was trying to suck me dry. When I finally realised I'd been holding my breath for a good thirty seconds or more I broke into a fit of coughing spasms that I could never recover from without fresh air. Oh shit.
'Enough.' Sophia yelled the word loud enough that even I jumped at the volume. In less than two seconds the bubbler bottle was removed from my rubber hose and I was once again sucking in clean, sweet air, whilst trying not to vomit.
'Calm down. Big, deep breaths, pet.' She rubbed my arm slowly and somehow it helped. 'If you want to end this do it now.' Sophia was giving me an out and I was sorely tempted to take it. If I hadn't had a roaring hard-on I might have packed my bags, but I figured the end was in sight now, and it shouldn't be too long before I finally got what I wanted. Keeping both feet securely on the floor, I shook my head.
'There's more breath play to come, pet. Are you sure you're not going to end this?' I couldn't help but wonder if Sophia was trying to get rid of me. It certainly seemed that way. The thought of more breath play didn't scare me off, though it probably should have done. I was too focused on my arousal and the hideously blissful feeling of the Cat crashing into my back. Now it's no secret that I'm a stubborn bastard, but sometimes even I think I'm crazy. It looked like Sophia did too. Well, that was her problem. If I had the use of my hands I would have rubbed them together and asked what they had in store for game number three. They wouldn't have answered me, so it was probably just as well I didn't. Come on ladies, I thought viciously. Show me what you've got. Did I forget to mention that I also work quite well under pressure?
Chapter Sixteen - Leyland
Torture wasn't supposed to be this much fun. Mind you, it wasn't torture in the usual sense - Marianna had been constantly and consistently screaming out her orgasms for the past hour or so, but she finally appeared to be flagging. I couldn't help but wonder how much more of this the woman could take.
'How's that new piercing feel, precious?' I was well aware that it felt amazing, judging by how quickly she was climaxing, but it's always nice to hear it from the horse's mouth.
'I can't take much more of this,' she whispered, and her voice sounded broken. That was exactly what I wanted to hear. I had a feeling I could break this woman over and over again, into a thousand pieces or more, and never tire of putting her back together again. It was an interesting thought, but one I didn't intend to dwell on. I did not form attachments to women. I played with them, took them out to dinner occasionally, and then put them back wherever they belonged. That was the arrangement and I wasn't about to change it.
'Poor girl. Are all of these orgasms too much for you, precious? Well, you know what I want. If you tell me they could stop in an instant.' But I hope you don't, because I'm having way too much fun here, I thought.
Thankfully she must have heard me, because her lips clamped tightly shut and she seemed to be bracing herself for round two. Excellent. The girl had more stamina than I thought.
'Oh, so you want to play?' I appeared shocked by her stance, but I was beginning to learn there was a lot more to Marianna than met the eye. I was more than happy to push her various buttons and see just how far I could take that beautiful body. I had a feeling the journey would be longer than I thought.
'This is good news. Okay, so I used my fingers for the first two orgasms, and we managed another five with the wand. I wonder what we can use next?' Speaking out loud, purely to torment her, I watched her determined eyes glance down in my direction. They tried to convey the message 'I will not crack', but I knew better. They all cracked. Eventually.
'I think I'll go with the rabbit. That's always fun.' Marianna's eyes said she didn't agree, but that wasn't my problem. Wringing another two or three climaxes out of her was going to be a piece of cake. No woman alive could resist those bunny ears, and I wasn't using any old rabbit. Oh no. I was using a luxury supercharged version, complete with a pliable tip for expert G-spot stimulation. The magic wand had been a warm up - but now I intended to bring out the big guns.
Pulling the bright purple rabbit out of my bag, I held it up to Marianna's face and ran my finger along the smooth tip. 'Are you already imagining this inside you, darling?' I let it gently caress her cheek, and she shuddered.
'I'm trying not to.'
She still held herself proudly, and there was plenty of fight left in her eyes. The few minutes of recovery time I had given her had worked wonders.
'And you call yourself a submissive? With all those years of abstinence, darling, I'd have thought you might have wanted to catch up on a spot of pleasure here and there.' Talking to Marianna purely to have the pleasure of hearing her voice, I did think that this might have been the oddest torture session on record.
'I'm not personally against the idea,' she replied nonchalantly, 'but I'd rather not do it all in the same day. I don't want to be greedy.'
Dammit. Now the woman was making jokes. I was never going to get anything out of her if we continued on this vein. You need to show her who's boss, Leyland.
'So, are you wet, precious?' Although I had lubricant in my bag I was pretty sure I wouldn't need it.
'It's like Niagara falls down there,' she responded dryly. 'Do your worst.'
I dipped the tip of my bright purple vibrator inside her to make sure. 'Ahh. How right you are.' Pumping the vibrator gently up and down a couple of times I relished each tiny moan and whimper she made. All these sounds were music to my ears. I'd have preferred passionate screaming, of course, but we were working up to that again. Inch by delicate inch.
Turning the vibrator to a low setting, I began to slide it up and down her G-spot. With the fingers of my other hand I coaxed her clitoris to life, not that it needed much encouraging. The girl was hungry for pleasure, but I was going to exceed her expectations. Exceed, smash, and blow those expectations into outer space, in fact. I was here to get a job done, and if I came away without answers Mark would never let me live it down. I frowned. It was time to get nasty.
Ten orgasms later, equally divided between her clitoris and G-spot, had Marianna squealing like a stuck pig. She could barely suck in enough air to breathe, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. She'd been doing lots of glorious screaming at the top of her lungs, and she'd also been dancing on her tiptoes in order to get away from either the vibrator or me, or possibly both.
'So, is it time for another G-spot climax?' I asked cheerfully with a perfectly straight face.
Her wail of horror could be heard halfway across the neighbourhood. It was an adorable sound. If I was at home I would have recorded it and played it back to her on loop. Unfortunately we weren't, so I'd just have to make her scream again.
'Yes. If my calculations are correct we're going for G-spot number six.' My calculations were correct; I was very careful about these things. That's what happened when you worked with drugs for a living.
Teasing the vibrator once, twice, then three times upon her swollen, abused, and bright red clit, I began to tickle her entrance with the tip of the rabbit, on the lowest setting. There was another pitiful wail and it seemed we were right on track. Gently sliding it back inside her, I set to work.
You see, the trick with forced orgasms is to wear them down slowly, and you need to be gentle if you want to get a decent number of orgasms. If I went too hard and too fast I'd murder her clit, which would go numb and then she'd take forever to hit the big O. If I went slow and upped the intensity in smaller increments I'd get a much better show. Truth be told, we were nearing the end of what she'd be able to take, but I was going to work her until she had nothing left to give. Well, nothing left except the answers I wanted.
Stroking her G-spot carefully, over and over, in exactly the right position, it didn't take me long to reduce her to tears.
'I can't take another one. Please stop. I can't bear it any more. Can't you just pull my fingernails out?' All this and more came in shuddering, sobbing gasps from her lips, but I didn't let up, not even for a moment. I wasn't going to stop until she told me something interesting, and if needed I could keep this up all night. Actually, I was having the most fun I'd had in ages. Memo to me: I must torture beautiful girls on a regular basis.
I stopped for a second. I'm a bit of a softy with tears, believe it or not. 'Have you caught your breath yet?' I asked amiably.
'No,' she replied miserably, sucking in air like a dying woman. Through the tears I guessed it was getting pretty hard to breathe. Oh well.
'Too bad,' I said, and picked up straight where I left off. This time we were getting somewhere. There was begging, pleading, hiccupping, punching, kicking and swearing. Thankfully the punching and kicking didn't amount to much, as she was in solid steel cuffs, but my ears were burning with the variety of cuss words that were coming out of her mouth. Someone really needed to take the woman over their lap and show her how to behave like a lady. It was a job I wouldn't have minded tackling myself, but some other time, perhaps.
'Are you ready to talk yet?' I asked for about the tenth time. I didn't have any real hopes of an answer, but I'd wear her down eventually. Pressing down a little harder over her sensitive spot, she let out a desperate sob, but there were no further words forthcoming. Oh well, orgasm number twelve was coming her way.
Unbelievably she finally broke on number eighteen. That was unheard of. I mean, I hadn't really tested the theory, nor did I make a living out of torturing women, but eighteen orgasms in a single session? My arm was nearly dropping off! I don't know who was more relieved when she finally yelled, 'I'll talk!' but it was a close run thing.
'Marvellous, off you go.' I desperately wanted a drink, which would unfortunately need to be non-alcoholic, but I wasn't going to spoil the mood. I wanted her to start talking immediately, before she changed her mind. If she decided to back track on me I had no idea what I'd try next. Maybe I'd have to resort to pulling out fingernails after all.
Marianna turned to face me, and I think I got lost in those turbulent green eyes for a second. When she asked me a question I had to blink a couple of times before the simple words finally made sense.
'How long have you known Mark?'
'Hang on a minute, lady,' I said. 'I thought I was the one asking the questions? Rolling my eyes I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. Why was nothing ever easy?
'Well, I'm just trying to work out how much you know about him.'
'I know enough. Trust me.' Eyeballing her, I waited patiently for this conversation to continue.
'So I'll start from the beginning. But just so you know, if the man in question finds me and dices me up into tiny little pieces for spilling the beans, which he threatened to do several times, you'll have my death on your conscience.'
I rolled my eyes again, leaned over her, and tightened each of the clamps on her nipples until I had her gasping. 'Let's not mess about, precious. I'm losing patience.'
'Fine, but you'll regret this. The man's an utter, conscienceless bastard and if he finds out I've told you anything you'll wish you were dead. I've seen what he's capable of and it's not pretty.'
'I'm waiting,' I said with a bored air, tapping my fingernails against the wall. There was a long pause.
'Well, I don't actually know his name.'
'You're fucking kidding me. Do I have complete twat tattooed across my forehead or something?'
Marianna suddenly went very pale. 'Honestly, I don't. He contacted me by telephone to outline what he wanted and then offered to wire two million to my bank account upon completion.' She then frowned.
'He didn't pay up? Gosh, there's a surprise, he must have seen you coming.' I raised my eyebrows in question and waited for her to confirm what I suspected.
'No,' she whispered.
'And you trusted him? Hell, woman, you must watch movies. You always ask for half upfront.' I shook my head and rolled my eyes at the same time. Please tell me the woman couldn't have been that stupid.
'Actually, no. I don't have time for movies, and in any case, I was desperate. I didn't think it through and I paid the price.
'What the hell were you desperate for? An all-inclusive holiday to the Caribbean and some designer rags? Or had you just run out of nail varnish?' Sarcasm dripped from my tongue. I'd seen her type before and I knew exactly how they worked. I felt utterly disgusted by her greed, but thankfully far more focused now. I could probably work her over with a great deal more enthusiasm after hearing that, and I wouldn't feel half so bad about it either.
'Are you going to tell me what I need to know, Marianna? Half-baked tales aren't going to wash with me. If you want your toenails pulled out you're going the right way about it.'
'But I don't know anything,' she wailed pitifully.
'That's what they all say,' I sighed. 'Clearly I haven't given you enough of an incentive to talk. That can easily be remedied, I think.' I began to rummage about in my holdall again.
'What are you going to do now?' she moaned while craning her neck to try and see what I was after.
'You'll find out soon enough, sweetheart, and I promise you won't like it.' Finding what I wanted I held it aloft and smiled evilly.
Marianna looked aghast, which was quite satisfying to behold, before she then went very pale. At least this threat felt like it had some weight behind it.
Chapter Seventeen - Jennifer
My body felt like lead and there were waves of nausea that flowed through me, making me feel as if was being tossed around in a very small boat at the mercy of a mighty ocean storm. Even though I was lying flat the world began to spin all around me and it seemed like I had the world's biggest hangover. Claw hammers and knives were attacking my skull and I wasn't sure if they were banging or slicing. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Needless to say, I had felt better.
To make matters worse, my eyes felt as if they'd been sealed together with superglue. Prising them apart seemed almost impossible, and the bright light all around me was blinding. It felt as though I'd been in a deep dark hole for days, and trying to get back to the surface was an effort in sheer willpower and determination.
Seriously, if this was heaven they needed to work on their welcome greeting. Mind you, I probably hadn't done an awful lot to qualify for the harps and angels. Fine. If this was hell, they needed to draw the drapes shut and light some fires. It wasn't that warm in here.
My eyes kept flickering, the retinas shifting rapidly behind my shuttered lids. For some reason I felt like I was being pushed to open my eyes. Oh God, if this was heaven they were going to chuck me out almost as soon as they'd let me in. My lips were already mouthing swear words as the pounding in my head increased, and all I wanted to do was let my head retreat back to the nothingness of before. There was no pain there, and it was nice and dark. It was not to be. The urgent pushing inside my head finally managed to have my eyes flutter open for a brief moment, but they closed in pain almost as quickly, though they desperately wanted to stay open.
Now I knew I was in heaven. I was sure I'd just seen my mum, sitting on the chair beside my bed, staring into space. I could feel her warm hand on my arm, her fingers gently stroking me. Two emotions washed over me all at once. The first was an outpouring of love and gratitude that someone had given me the opportunity to lay my eyes on my mother once more. As a child I had often wondered if I'd be able to remember her if I ever saw her again, but it was amazing how much of her I remembered. She hadn't changed very much. There were a few lines and wrinkles that hadn't been there before, and her hair was much shorter, but she looked so much like me it was startling. Immediately I wanted to cry but I didn't seem to have the energy or the necessary fluids in order to carry out that wish. It was just as well. In the next instant I felt utter fury that she could have abandoned me all those years ago, and suddenly, with no warning, re-enter my life and play the doting parent. How dare she! I wasn't some little toy she could play with whenever it suited her. Wanting to yell out some of the hurt I was feeling, but having no energy to do so, I almost missed the start of her voice. It was so soft, almost a whisper really, but I managed to hear it.
'How could Michael force you into marriage? What was he thinking?'
Another flicker of my eyelashes, but my eyes refused to open. I felt a thick fog begin to creep inside my head, and I was tired, so damn tired. What the hell was wrong with me? Where was I? Why did I feel so awful?
'Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take care of this.' There was a small sigh and the sound of tapping feet. 'Getting rid of your husband should be easy enough. He can simply have an "accident".'
Sleep was coming for me. The effort of staying awake was more than my body could bear right now, but I heard the emphasis my mother put on the word 'accident' and my blood went cold.
'I'll probably deal with Michael the old-fashioned way, but I'll make sure he'll live through the ordeal. That should square up the odds, shouldn't it, Jen?'
No! No, you cannot kill my husband, I wanted to scream, but the thought whirled around my head as if it were being sucked into a vortex. I was slipping away again and there was nothing I could do about it.
'Everything will be so much better when you wake up, you'll see.'
That was the last thing I heard before I was sucked back to the place where nothing mattered any more.
Chapter Eighteen - Mark
Breath play game number three was a little more intense than the previous one, but thankfully there were no bubbles involved. The witches had given me a little time to get my breathing back under control, which was jolly decent of them. At least I would begin the second stint more lucid than not, although that wasn't necessarily a good thing.
When someone sat down beside me and picked up my rubber hose I guessed something else was being attached in its place. As I couldn't see, all I could do was wait for the inevitable. I was so close to that Cat that I could almost taste it, so I refused to fall at the last hurdle, unless they decided to start cutting me open wide, and I wouldn't put it past them.
'Pet, are you ready to hear the rules of the game?' Sophia had her hand on my arm, and it looked as if my brief respite was over. It was just as well. I needed things to focus on right now. Nodding my head to confirm that I was, I braced myself for the worst.
'Okay. Listen up. We've attached a rebreather bag to your hose, and it will inflate when you exhale. You need to squeeze it between your legs in order to breathe, so I suggest you set your feet on the floor with your knees at a forty-five degree angle, and we'll place the bag between them. The signal to stop will remain the same. All you need to do is bang your feet once. Nod if you're ready to begin.'
Sometimes it surprises me just how much of a masochist I can be. Nodding away, I felt the bag squeezed between my now upright knees and took my first breath. It wasn't so bad. Breathe out, squeeze and breath in, wait for the bag to re-inflate and then repeat. It was never going to be that easy, but in principle I could work with it.
The fingers began in earnest, of course, although I knew they wouldn't let me come. You did ask for this, I reminded myself sternly, but it made no difference. My body was now screaming out for release and not one of those women out there would take pity on me. I could probably have staked my life on the fact. Once again I was taken over and over again to the point of no return, and somehow those witches knew exactly when to stop, and when to begin again in earnest.
My breathing was fine for about the first thirty seconds of the game. After that it was all over the place. I gulped as much air as I could when I remembered to squeeze the bag, and that was a lot less often than I would have liked. The fingers were more creative this time, too. Although no one went down on me with their mouths, they had managed to unearth some very interesting toys. Oh, what I wouldn't have given for the use of my eyes! My cock was receiving vibrations, pulsations, sucking sensations, and a whole load of lube - not that I needed any. My cock was steadily weeping pre-cum and couldn't figure out why it was being so horribly abused. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to be the bottom, and though I could honestly say this was something I would never do again (not under Sophia, at any rate), there were parts of me that enjoyed the subjugation. That gave me a thought. What if I offered Jen the chance to even up the score when she woke up? Would that go some way towards helping her to forgive me? I was fully prepared to do so. All that and more, if necessary. Whilst Jennifer might not be quite as experienced as these ladies, it would be fun to find out what she was capable of now and again. Mind you, I'd need to make it clear that I would normally be the one holding the whip. The thought of dominating her made me instantly hard and I severely hoped I hadn't choked her off the lifestyle for good. BDSM was the way I was wired, sexually, and whilst I suspected I could give it up for the right person, it would be a very hard sacrifice to bear.
Trying to suck in air, only to find I couldn't, I realised I hadn't squeezed the damn bag. I then floundered and dropped the thing. Immediately going into panic mode I wondered if any of them would notice, so I held my legs up and got ready to bang down hard on the floor.
'It's okay, pet. Put your feet down again and we'll give you the bag back. Remember to concentrate,' Sophia said sternly. Easy for you to say, I thought, but I did as I was told.
I have no idea how many times I was brought to the brink of orgasm, dropped the damn bag, forgot to breathe and tried to plead for release through the echoing confines of a rubber hose. My balls were crushed, my cock caressed, stretched and bitten, and my body used as a general playground for their amusement. Time seemed to melt into an endless river of intense arousal and pitiful suffering. Finally, when I was too exhausted to move, the bag dropped for a final time and my legs shook so badly there was no way I could press them together in order to breathe.
'Enough. We will take a brief recess and then reconvene for the whipping in twenty minutes, if my pet is willing.' Sophia clapped her hands and I could hear the sound of slowly receding feet, but everything was hazy and I felt like I was drunk. Black spots danced across my retinas and I was desperately trying to get my feet in the air in order to stamp them down as hard as I could. It took me a good few seconds to realise I didn't need to now, because Sophia had removed the bag and was now beginning to remove my mask.
It took her a good few minutes to get me out of the elaborate get up I wore, mostly because I couldn't fully cooperate with her. All I wanted to do was fall asleep. It would take another ten minutes or so before the level of oxygen in my blood recovered enough for me to move normally. During this time Sophia was basically telling me what an absolute idiot I was being, and that if I played this recklessly in my business dealings I would probably be broke by now. She had a point and as I listened to her tirade I began to wonder if she'd send me packing before the big finale. She had every right to. Normally I would never have let things get out of hand like this, but tonight I needed to lose myself. Yes, I was being reckless and stupid, and if Jennifer recovered and I managed to kill myself all this goddam guilt would be for naught. My eyes glazed over. Please bring her back to me, I silently pleaded over and over again. Repeating the words as a kind of mantra, I hoped that if I said them enough they might come true.