In Too Deep

by Roxane Beaufort

  Virgin she might be, but had discovered the joys of self-gratification long ago. At first she hadn't realised what it was, thinking that when she played with her pussy at night it was merely a bedtime ritual associated with sleep. It wasn't till later that a friend told her all about it and advised her how to use her fingers to best effect. Julia had never looked back. She was interested in men, longing to fall in love and experience intercourse, but sometimes wondered if anything could be as beautifully satisfying as fingering her own genitals.

  She sighed, tensed, waited for the magic to begin. The gel was deliciously slippery, her finger coasting over her clit. She watched herself, wiping the mirror clear of steam, seeing that naughty blonde frigging herself, one hand holding the labial folds apart, the middle finger of the other slightly crooked as it teased her little organ into full stiffness. The water was reduced to a trickle, falling over her shoulder and running down to her feet. She worked her clit, stroked it carefully, her nipples becoming redder, hardening in response.

  The temptation to bring herself off was too strong to resist. She wanted to make it last forever, but her clit decided otherwise and she couldn't stop rubbing it. She felt the sensation gathering in her loins and at the base of her spine, was rising from peak to peak, borne on ever increasing waves. The feeling reached her toes, clenched on the wet shower tray, and then roared back up her thighs, culminating in such a sweet burst of ecstasy that she whimpered, shuddering at each successive spasm.

  With a deep sigh she came down from the heights, feeling guilty, but loving it too much to ever give it up. She finished washing and reached for the shampoo, dunking her head under the jets. Arlene told her she was lucky to have such curls. She never had to bother with hairdressers, apart from a trim now and again, but mostly she let it do as it pleased, tousled and shining. Yet she sometimes became bored with it, wishing it could be trained into a sophisticated coiffure, making her appear more mature.

  As Arlene was fond of saying, 'No one's ever satisfied with their looks. My nose is too big. So are my tits. You'd like to be taller and change your hair. Stop fretting. You're okay as you are.'

  Julia remembered this as she towelled herself dry, then blow-dried her hair and moisturised her skin with body lotion. She chose a new pair of ivory panties, hip-high and fastened with ribbons, and a matching bra. She didn't have much money to spend on clothes. Living in London cost a bomb and there wasn't a lot over for fripperies, but she had decided to pack her best underwear. One never knew what might happen and she intended to be prepared. The nights were still cool, so she added pale hold-up stockings, slipped her feet into her shoes, and dropped her dress over her head. A light application of make-up, a dash of perfume, and she was ready.

  In a fit of bravado and extravagance she left all the lights on, let herself out and locked the door, slipping the key into her handbag.

  'Shush! Keep the noise down,' Will hissed.

  Julia had been doing her best to be quiet, though it was difficult in the dark. She kept tripping over things. Her thigh muscles ached from crouching. Bushes scratched her. Whenever they paused for breath, as now, she was terribly afraid they'd be spotted.

  Once dinner was over Will had been ready to go, sensibly dressed in a black polo sweater and black trousers. He carried a shoulder bag containing his camera with the telephoto lens and a torch, and Julia trotted along behind him to where the car was parked. A short drive and he had made her get out, leaving the vehicle in a pitch-black, leafy lane and heading off on foot.

  She'd almost had to run to keep up with his long stride, and had nearly cannoned into him when he stopped suddenly. That was when he cautioned her. As far as she could see in the gloom, they were standing by a high stone wall that seemed to stretch into infinity, and when Will shone the torch upwards the light was reflected off broken glass set in the copings.

  'Bugger,' he muttered. 'The place is like a bloody fortress.'

  'Is this it? Where Theona Blue is staying?'

  He switched off the torch but she managed to catch his nod. 'It sure is,' he said.

  'But we'll never get inside, will we?' It looked impregnable to her.

  'Leave it to me, my dear Watson,' he replied mysteriously. 'We'll go for Plan B.'

  He melted into the darkness and Julia hurried behind him. They seemed to be miles from civilisation. The way became rougher and undergrowth had to be pushed through. She heard Will cursing just ahead of her, then he whispered triumphantly, 'I've found it.'

  'What?' she faltered.

  'A way in,' and he flashed the torch over a low arched doorway set in the wall. It was half concealed by ivy and looked as if it hadn't budged for centuries. 'Denise was right. She told me she used to come here on holiday when she was a kid, and knew the former owners. She spent a lot of time here, friendly with their children, and she gave me a layout, including this secret door. Come on, let's get it open - but quietly does it.'

  'Supposing it's locked?' Julia ventured.

  'Supposing it isn't?' he chided, tearing at the ivy and clearing the door. 'Lend a hand, oh ye of little faith.'

  In for a penny, in for a pound, Julia thought, and added her weight to his as he heaved against it with his shoulder. It resisted, creaking. He was wrong, she concluded. It was locked and probably bolted on the other side. No one would leave such an entrance free for intruders.

  'It's giving, I can feel it,' Will grunted, redoubling his efforts.

  The rusted hinges groaned, the thick oak juddered, the bottom of the door scraped on stone as it yielded inch by tortuous inch.

  'I shouldn't think it's been opened for years,' Julia gasped, curiosity taking over. She never could resist a challenge.

  Will squeezed through the narrow gap, taking the light with him. Julia didn't hesitate, scrambling in after him. She almost shrieked when cobwebs trailed stickily over her face, but remembered in time that silence was essential. Blackness, the smell of dank earth, the sharp odour of trampled vegetation surrounded her.

  'Will, where are you?' she squeaked, and then jumped at the feel of his hand on her arm.

  'It's all right. We're behind some bushes in a neglected part of the garden. Follow me.'

  She didn't need telling. There was no way she was going to stay there alone. It was definitely creepy. She almost expected to come across Count Dracula's tomb, and she didn't have a wooden stake or a crucifix anywhere about her person. Arlene, she whimpered inside, I wish you were here. I don't think I want to be a reporter after all.

  Will was ahead and she kept her eye on him. He parted the last screen of tangled greenery. A bramble whipped back, catching in Julia's skirt. She tugged. It resisted. She heard the material tear.

  'I've just ruined my new dress,' she grumbled, feeling the ripped fabric fall away from her right thigh and trying to hold it together with one hand.

  'Shut up,' he growled. 'We've been lucky so far. Keep your eyes skinned for the bodyguards.'

  All was quiet and they tiptoed from their hiding place. Will skirted the overgrown kitchen garden, getting ever nearer to the house. It was illumined by a great sweep of arc lights. They could hear noises now from the terrace at the rear, laughter, splashing, and the heady beat of the salsa.

  Will was like a bloodhound on the scent. Julia could feel the tension in him and her own excitement escalated. She could do it, after all. She had the instincts of a sleuth that would make her into a top-grade journalist. She saw that Will had his camera at the ready, holding it like a weapon. She got hers out, priming it. It was smaller than Will's, but powerful. If he didn't get pictures, then she certainly would.

  They crept past a large greenhouse, and reached a hedge which separated them from the main terrace. A kidney-shaped swimming pool lit up from inside, lay there like a blue lagoon. There was a paved area with tubs of flowers, sun-loungers, ironwork chairs and round tables. Julia could see figures by the pool - a naked woman sprawled on her back on the tiles, and a muscular black man with a shaven head, also
naked.

  Fascinated by what they were doing, Julia edged closer, forgetting Will and their mission. Now a rhododendron in full bloom concealed her. 'It's her,' Will's voice grated in her ear. 'That's Theona, and he's her trainer.'

  He had his camera aimed in their direction. Julia heard the whirr as he took picture after picture. She could hardly think, every nerve and sense concentrated on Theona and her lover. His cock was huge, rising from a tangle of black hair, long, thick and skyward pointing. She envied Theona, who fastened her hand around this monumental object, her fingers unable to circle the girth. It looked deep purple in colour from that distance, and the mushroom-like dome shone.

  Julia slipped a hand down to her quim, unable to resist pressing her gusset against her wet and aching clit. It throbbed through the delicate material and she passed her finger over it. She couldn't stop looking at the man's weapon, wondering how a thing that size could possibly be inserted in a woman's tender channel. Theona chuckled, pulled back his foreskin even further and slowly moved her head towards his crotch. Julia saw her tongue gliding round it, her lips kissing, and then she gradually took it into her mouth, sinking down till her nose was pressed against his wiry pubes.

  She'd surely choke, Julia thought. But no, Theona's capacity seemed to be endless, her throat accustomed to such an activity. And Julia passed her tongue over her own lips, imagining what it would feel like to have her mouth plugged by such a big cock.

  The man laughed, deep in his chest, and raising one broad hand, slapped Theona on her bare buttocks. His baritone voice boomed across the terrace, 'You dirty bitch. You need to be punished. What are you?'

  'I'm a dirty bitch, Gus - a bad girl,' Theona retorted gleefully, and leapt up. With a hand pressed into the small of her back he propelled her across the terrace and they disappeared inside the house.

  Beside herself with frustrated lust and curiosity, Julia broke cover, dodging from one patch of shadow to the next, eager to press her nose against the window that now sprang into light. She had the impression that Will was somewhere behind her, but couldn't be sure. At that moment it didn't seem to matter. All she wanted to do was watch the couple, see what they would do next, satisfy the burning desire to learn all she could about sex. Her nipples felt sore, chafed by her dress, and her panties were damp between her legs.

  The window was slightly above eye-level, but she climbed onto a stone flower-filled urn, laddering her stockings in the process. This didn't matter. Nothing did, save the astonishing spectacle presenting itself to her.

  She was staring into what she at first took to be a gymnasium. This must be where Theona did her training, keeping that marvellous body in perfect shape. But now the singer was bent over a vaulting horse, her tawny ringlets streaming down on one side of it, breasts pressed against the padding, her nubile body arched, her generous buttocks bare. The man she'd called Gus, a veritable giant in height and strength, was drawing her arms down and fastening cuffs on her wrists, attached to the contraption by chains. He did the same to her legs, forcing them apart, each ankle strapped to rings.

  From her vantage point, Julia looked straight into the dark crease that divided Theona's bottom cheeks. She could see the tight rosebud of her anus, the hairy outer labia, the wet pink inner pair and the engorged clitoris poking out between. A quick glance around showed Julia that the padded horse was not the only piece of furniture in the room. There was a wooden crosspiece, a table with holes at strategic points in its length, also fitted with rings and chains. A rack ran along one wall from which hung whips and canes, flails and rods, bundles of leather harnesses, and articles that looked like gags and blindfolds.

  Julia grasped the windowsill, camera forgotten in her excitement. What on earth was this place and why did it contain such weird and alarming objects? Yet the frightening aspect of it was making her adrenaline flow, and she was aware that her panties were damper than ever. Then her eyes nearly popped out of her head as Gus paced over to the rack and carefully selected a long-handled, flexible paddle covered in white leather. He swished it, then pressed his thumb against it and let go. The paddle twanged.

  He took up a stance at Theona's hindquarters, his muscles rippling under that shiny dark skin, his haunches tight, his spread thighs supporting his trunk, his erection huge, though only partly roused. Julia held her breath. Gus raised one mighty, muscle-knotted arm and the paddle thwacked down on Theona's right buttock. She yelped, jerked, strained at her bonds. Gus threw back his arm again and the paddle walloped across her left cheek. The right one was already reddening. Julia's heart thundered, her clit demanding that she rub it. She saw Theona writhing, heard her cries, but now they held a new note, a keening wail like a cat on heat. With a jarring shock, Julia realised the singer was actually enjoying it!

  Now Gus stood between her legs, smoothed his hands over the flaming red blotches embroidered on her rump, then took his massive prick and introduced the helm to her wet cunt. Theona moaned and lifted her hips as far as her restraints would allow. He reached underneath her, massaging her clit, and she shrieked her pleasure. Gus's powerful hips propelled his cock at a rapid rate. He thrust in and out of her, every inch of rippling back, neat waist and taunt bum proclaiming his athleticism. Poetry in motion, Julia thought, while thought was still possible. He tensed, flung back his head and cried out, then slumped over Theona, emptied of spunk.

  At that moment, when Julia was just about to join them in their coming, she was toppled from her perch. She struggled against the hands that held her, shouting up at her assailant, a bald-headed, broken-nosed bruiser. 'What the hell are you doing? Let me go at once!'

  'You ain't going nowhere, deary,' the man proclaimed. 'We have ways of dealing with nasty little trespassers like you.'

  This galvanised her into action. She clawed, spat and kicked at him, trying to bring her knee up and jab him in the balls, but he simply laughed and squeezed her tightly in his iron-hard arms. She could hear another commotion, and a glance told her that Will, too, had been apprehended. One thickset man was grappling with him, while another had snatched his camera.

  'Come on, you!' he shouted. 'And Roy, bring that nosy tart. We'll see what Miss Blue has to say about you. She don't take kindly to intruders. You'll most likely spend the night in the nick!'

  Chapter 2

  Whatever Julia expected when frogmarched into the house, it certainly wasn't the magnificent library in which she now found herself.

  The light from crystal chandeliers played on jewel-hued Persian rugs and parquet flooring. The walls were lined with glass-fronted shelves containing leather-bound books. Large landscapes hung in gilded frames. There were heavily carved oak chairs and tables, a fireplace with a ceiling-high hood upheld by stone Titans, and a deeply cushioned chesterfield upon which reclined the woman she had last seen tied over a vaulting-horse - Theona Blue.

  She was swathed in an exotic silk djellaba and Gus, standing beside her, arms folded over his chest, wore a towel knotted round his hips. Julia was dragged forward and Roy kneed the backs of her legs. She fell, facedown, at Theona's feet. She had never felt more humiliated. She struggled to rise, but he kept a hand on her neck, forcing her into a submissive position.

  'What's all this?' Theona said, and Julia lifted her head high enough to meet the interest in the singer's amber eyes.

  'Found her looking in the window of the gym,' Roy grunted, and then jerked his thumb to where Will stood, fuming, between the two other guards. 'Ken and Joe got him as he was taking photographs. I reckon they're reporters, madam.'

  'There was no need to throw my camera in the pool,' Will raged. 'It's worth a lot. Who is going to pay for it?'

  'No doubt you're insured,' Theona replied coolly, eyeing him from head to foot, 'I take no responsibility. You have no business being here. I could have you arrested. Who are you, and what's your little friend's name?'

  Will threw off his captors and stepped forward. Anger blazed in his eyes as he glared at her. 'I'm Will Denton, and the y
oung lady is Julia Jones.'

  'You're paparazzi,' she sneered, her robe parting over the deep V between her breasts. 'A disgusting breed.' As she crossed one golden-tanned leg over the other the garment slithered open, revealing a breathtaking glimpse of thigh and a delicate bare foot with an arched instep.

  'Not so,' Will protested, apparently unmoved by this display, facing her and her heavies. 'I work for a reputable magazine - Hi Life. You may have heard of it.'

  'I have indeed, and what do you want with me?' Theona rose with all the agility of a pampered cat. She prowled round the kneeling Julia and sashayed up to Will, subjecting him to a heavy-lidded stare, standing so close that the tips of her breasts brushed the front of his sweater.

  'I'd like to interview you and take photographs,' he answered and Julia, watching, admired his cool.

  'Is that so?' Theona purred, lifted a hand and ran it casually through his hair. 'What are you prepared to pay?'

  'I wasn't instructed to negotiate a fee,' he returned, and his face was expressionless, his lack of reaction to her closeness provoking her to persist in her attentions.

  Her fingers wandered across his chest, finding the hidden nubs of his male nipples and tweaking them. 'But if I give you what you ask, then I'm entitled to something in return,' she stated flatly, and passed the tip of her tongue over her red lips.

  'That very much depends on your price.'

  'I'm sure we can come to some arrangement that's beneficial to all of us,' she said and, reaching down, held his erection, rubbing it through his trousers.