by Unknown
It was impossible to believe that he hadn’t been one of the perpetrators, or that he hadn’t organised the other one, but I told him. At each stage of my story he moved his hands.
‘Like that? Like that?’
‘Yes,’ I murmured, as his hand slipped down my trousers and into my knickers.
‘Exactly like that?’ he demanded. ‘Someone else’s hand felt exactly like mine?’ He teased my clit with a feathery, barely-there touch.
‘Yes – no, it wasn’t the same – I don’t know.’
‘It excited you, though. Whoever it was.’
‘Yes.’
‘You don’t care who it was.’
‘No.’
‘You preferred not knowing who it was.’
‘Yes.’
He laughed softly as he pulled my trousers and knickers down to my thighs. I obligingly helped him by taking my shoes and socks off, then my sweater and vest.
‘I’ve got sand in some odd places,’ I breathed, hoping he’d get it out for me, but he was busy getting something out of his holdall. I had wondered if he’d brought any of his gear with him and I wasn’t disappointed.
I thought it was a blindfold and when he moved it to my face felt a fraction cheated. It was good last time, but if he was going to dress me up at all I wanted to see it. But suddenly the black fabric was in my mouth, not over my eyes. I opened my mouth to protest but it was a proper gag, not just an improvisation with a piece of cloth. Not only did it cover my lips tightly, but there was something hard wedged between my teeth.
‘I hope you don’t mind, Bliss,’ he said silkily. ‘These rooms aren’t soundproof, as I found out last night.’
It briefly flashed through my mind that he’d had someone else tied up in here last night and the neighbours had complained, but I dismissed it. Anyway I wasn’t going to feel jealous if he had; I’d just like to know the details.
The black garment in his hand wasn’t the corset. Instead he pulled round my waist what seemed to be an extraordinarily wide black leather belt, which came right up to my breasts. Turning me round he pulled both ends of the belt and fastened it together, with Velcro I guessed. I was turned once more and he arranged my tits over the black below them. I wondered if that was all I was getting to wear when the familiar black collar came out of his holdall, together with handcuffs. Two pairs.
First he cuffed my wrists behind my back and then got me to kneel on one of the beds with my back to the wall, knees wide. The other pair of cuffs then closed over my ankles, and then my head was jerked back. He was fastening the collar to the ankle cuffs. I was almost looking at the ceiling.
‘I think it’s unlikely you’ll want to close your legs, Bliss,’ he said drily. ‘But just in case you do . . .’
He didn’t need to say any more as he fastened a black leather tie around my leg just above one knee, then the other. Each one was yanked back, pulling my thighs even further apart, and secured, not to the cuffs, but to the wall. I couldn’t see to what but deduced he must have pressed some sort of ring into the soft wood earlier.
Surveying what I could see of myself with satisfaction I thought I must be ready now for whatever he had in mind. As far as I was concerned I was definitely ready. The new ensemble was even more exciting than the last. I just wished there was a mirror so I could see myself properly. The caresses in the tunnel and the cave had already got me ready for anything.
Not, however, for a blindfold to go round my eyes followed by the sound of the door being opened.
‘I won’t be long. Think I’ll just have a look at the menus on offer tonight . . . you won’t be lonely?’
His voice was mocking and I tried to protest, but it came out as the conventional ‘mm-mm’ of kidnap stories. The door closed.
The last time he’d pulled that one at least he’d left me lying on a bed and checked if I was comfortable. I wondered how long he was going to make me kneel, legs wide, my head pulled back, but at the same time I wasn’t really complaining. If only he had the same predilections as Gabi’s ex. I would have liked to see myself like this on celluloid, though strictly for my viewing, unlike hers.
Sensory deprivation is a strange thing. One sense compensates for another. I was suddenly sure that I heard someone move in the room.
Perhaps he hadn’t gone out after all. He might just have closed the door and was waiting to see how I would react, whether I would try to move or talk, whether I would fidget or stay still. More likely, he just wanted to watch me, otherwise what was the point of tying me up at all?
If the gag hadn’t been so tight I would have smiled. Good trick, Carlos. My ears strained to concentrate on the room rather than the sounds of talking outside, the clattering of pans where someone was cooking over a camp stove. I definitely heard him move towards me and almost shivered in anticipation of his touch.
Before he touched me, though, I had an auditory memory. After he closed the door I had heard him say hi to Donna. Unless it was someone else who sounded like him.
He touched me. He – not Carlos, I now thought, definitely not: it had been his voice talking to Donna – touched my nipples, lightly, exquisitely. He circled them with light fingers and then teased them in his fingers, gently then harder. Maybe a bit too hard; I made a noise in my throat. The touch stayed just as firm but I started to enjoy it as my nipples hardened and started to revel in it.
I tried to concentrate on the sense of touch now. Carlos had touched me, rolled my nipples in his fingers like this; surely I would recognise his touch? But no, I couldn’t conclusively decide it was him.
Both hands mashed my breasts together now, squeezing them, scuffing over the hard points almost carelessly. I moaned, but not complainingly.
One hand ran over the back of my head, down to the collar, down the chain that held my head so high. It pulled it slightly and my head dipped further back. The other hand stroked up one leg from the cuffs to the bands above my knees and then, delicately, up the silky flesh of my inner thigh.
Suddenly it was as though he was desperate to make me come. The fingers of one hand were inside me, pumping in and out, while the other was on my clitoris, rubbing purposefully. If I had been in a position for being fucked rather than touched I felt he would have been pushing his cock in and out of me savagely; but, as he couldn’t do that, he was doing the next best thing. Although I couldn’t move much I could push hard against his hand and I did, furiously, determinedly. The tension had been building up in me all afternoon and it was finally, gloriously dispelled. I came uncontrollably and he must have felt it; my muscles must have been sucking his fingers in, and he slowed down gradually and stopped.
He moved his hands and his body moved away from me. The door closed.
This time I was sure I was alone. By the time my heartbeat and the stillness of my vaginal muscles had returned to normal, I couldn’t detect any sound in the room at all.
A few minutes passed and then the door opened and closed again. Surely this time it was Carlos. Surely last time too it was Carlos?
He sat on the bed, but didn’t touch me. He got up – the bed creaked, and then creaked again – what was he doing?
The first thing I felt was his hair on the inside of my thighs and I knew without a doubt it was him; the abundant hair, black and coarse, was definitely Carlos. He must be lying on his back with his tongue just about to touch my clit.
But I’ve just come, I wanted to say. I don’t want that now.
Although I’d come quickly the fingers had rubbed over me firmly and my clit was now too sensitive to appreciate the little licks he was giving me. Whether he sensed this I couldn’t tell because he moved his tongue up to penetrate me. I could hear him lapping at my juices like a cat at a bowl of milk.
Did that give him the signal that I’d just come? If, that is, it wasn’t him who made me?
His hands pressed against my pubic mound and for the first time I moved in response to him, knowing that I might get a little tingling aftershock to my or
gasm. He seemed to understand and rubbed harder, deep, right at the root of my clit, and weakly but pleasurably I had a secondary tremor.
Suddenly my thighs were released from the wall and before I could register what was happening I was lifted up by two hands and a powerfully erect prick was thrusting inside me. My wrists and ankles were scraping the wall as he dragged me up and then let me go as he rammed in and out. This was definitely Carlos, but still he didn’t say anything. His rhythm increased but I was helpless to encourage him in any way, though he didn’t need or want any encouragement. I guessed that the fact that I was helpless was enough for him. He came with a groan that comforted me that it was indeed Carlos.
‘Blissful,’ he said ironically as he pulled out of me. ‘I hope it was good for you, too?’
I thought he was going to take the gag out, but he didn’t.
‘What about the first time?’ he asked. ‘What did he do to you? Oh, don’t worry, I can imagine. I hope he was quiet, though. I told him you didn’t want to know who it was. That was right, wasn’t it? That’s what you said about the tunnel: you preferred not to know?’
That was different, I had the choice of stopping that, I wanted to say. But he still didn’t give me the opportunity.
‘If it’s any consolation to you, I don’t know who it was either. He said they’d draw lots for you. So I’m saying he, but of course it might not have been.’
That I didn’t believe. Whoever it was, he had let them in when he went out. The door had only opened and closed once. Still, I kept quiet. I had no choice.
‘I’m having a shower, and then you’d better do the same; I just ate a grain of sand from you. We’ll have to eat soon as we’ve got to be up early tomorrow. Oh, of course, I forgot to tell you, I’ve booked us on the tour of the geysers, which leaves at three thirty.’
The door closed again.
The bastard could have untied me, or at least taken off the gag and blindfold, before he went in the shower. The only consolation was that I was no longer bound to the wall, so with some effort I flopped down on to my side and indulged in the luxury of putting my thighs together. God, they ached.
‘Bliss! I’ve missed you!’
I spun round. It was Red, with Robbie not far behind. Getting to my feet I hugged him. ‘You too,’ I said as neutrally as I could. Carlos took another mouthful of his pizza.
Robbie hugged me. ‘I’ve missed you too,’ he said, his eyes narrowing appraisingly, like a true voyeur. ‘If you know what I mean.’
Red had already pulled out one of the spare chairs at the table. ‘You don’t mind, mate?’ he asked Carlos. I did the introductions.
‘Oh, you’re Bliss’s friend from Lima?’ Robbie said. ‘Glad to know you, mate.’
They ordered a beer apiece. It turned out they had arrived in San Pedro a week earlier, done all the trips and sights and gone to Calama for a couple of days to visit the mine.
‘We got back this arvo and got the tent set up and came to look for you, but you were nowhere,’ Red explained.
I decided against telling him I’d been tied up and blindfolded in Carlos’s room being fingered by a complete stranger. As far as I knew whoever it was might not keep it to himself and he’d know soon enough anyway.
The early start for the geyser tour was a blessing after all, because otherwise Red would certainly have asked me to spend the night in the tent, or at the very least he would have come back to the guesthouse with me. As it was we swapped experiences, though I kept my accounts brief as Carlos had already heard them. Red tried to ask him polite questions about his job, but he was monosyllabic. I guessed that he was irritated by the guys’ appearance, but what could I do? Now Red and Robbie had to realise that Carlos also figured in my sex life, otherwise he wouldn’t have come all the way down from Lima for a couple of days. I just hoped they wouldn’t suggest he join in the exhibitionist/ voyeur game, at least not to him.
We took off for an early night straight after eating. Red and Robbie both hugged me goodnight and made me promise to come and see them when I got back from the trip.
‘You didn’t tell me you’d planned to meet boyfriends here,’ said Carlos tersely as we walked back.
‘So what would you have done? Turned round and gone straight back to Lima?’ I retorted. ‘And I hadn’t arranged to meet them; they left me a note in Puno saying they’d catch up with me here. I didn’t know you were going to be here anyway.’
‘So are you screwing both of them?’
‘No. Just Red.’
‘The other one thinks he’s in with a chance as well. That’s obvious.’
Just as I decided I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of telling him about what actually had gone on with Red and Robbie I was left without any choice. He pulled me into his room and pushed me down on to the bed, still littered with his paraphernalia. Quickly he cuffed my wrists behind my back and chained them to one of the rings my legs had been secured to.
‘You can tell me all about what you’ve been up to with your Australians, and then get undressed and get some sleep, or not. I quite like the thought of you sitting there awake all night.’
‘I thought you said you weren’t a sadist,’ I returned.
‘No, I didn’t, actually.’ He laughed. ‘I said I didn’t like to inflict pain. A little psychological torture, though, that’s different.’
‘Sleep deprivation’s not psychological: it’s physical.’
‘Semantics, Bliss. Either tell me and I’ll untie you, otherwise I’ll gag you as well so that I at least can get a good night’s sleep.’
Bastard. I had to tell him.
‘I didn’t think we’d promised to be faithful to each other,’ I concluded sarcastically. ‘Especially as you got some stranger to give me a working-over earlier. So can I go to sleep now?’
He untied me. ‘Of course you don’t have to be faithful. I’m just a bit disappointed you didn’t tell me about your Australian ménage à trois earlier. Never mind, off you go.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Off you go,’ he repeated patiently. ‘We’ve got to get up at three o’clock. It makes more sense to be in separate rooms. You’ve got an alarm on your watch, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, but –’
‘But what? We’ve had sex; it’s not even a double bed so we can’t cuddle up together, and if you can’t sleep I don’t want you tossing and turning and disturbing me.’ He opened the door. ‘Goodnight kiss?’
Like hell.
To say the geysers left me cold would be trite because cold was the overriding problem. Not only was it still crack of dawn cold when we arrived but they were also at high altitude. Even the coffee they gave us for breakfast with the cheese rolls wasn’t very hot. I wished more than once I’d let Carlos go alone, stayed in bed till a respectable hour and then gone over to Red and Robbie’s tent in nice warm San Pedro and played look at me.
The day warmed up later, though, as we drove back towards town. The sun came out; we were at a lower altitude and we stopped at the promised thermal spring for a swim. I’d put my bikini on as underwear so I was among the first to get into the water, the other girls crouching behind nearby rocks to undress and put their costumes on. Carlos, Marc and Christian and a couple of Germans splashed in at the same time as me and we quickly found the deepest part of the pool – it was quite shallow – and sat down, warming ourselves all over. Carlos had intelligently brought his towel with him and put it on a rock just above our heads.
We luxuriated silently in the warm water, just waving our arms about negligently and sighing with pleasure. Carlos, Marc and Christian started talking about music while the Germans talked among themselves, and I was happy to close my eyes and warm up. Carlos’s hands played over my thigh but not obviously so I didn’t mind.
‘Bliss, could you reach my towel? It’s just above your head,’ he asked. I stretched up but there was no way I could reach it. Why he wanted it I couldn’t imagine but I stood to grab it.
&n
bsp; At the same time as I stood he hooked his thumb in the top of my bikini bottoms and as I rose they fell. He had quickly taken his hand away so it must have looked as though I had wantonly decided to flash my bush at everybody.
‘Oh, Bliss,’ said Marc, with a look at once admiring and almost resigned, which made me suspect he had been the bringer of my first orgasm the day before. Christian just looked and nodded appreciatively. Neither of them was fazed at all – well, that’s the French for you – but the Germans were open-mouthed. I sat down as quickly as I could, but not before Carlos had raised his hand to stroke my wet pubic hair.
‘What did you do that for?’ I whispered fiercely to him as I tugged the pants back up. I expected him to deny it, or pretend it was an accident, but instead he just grinned at me.
‘Revenge,’ he said simply. ‘Next time you fuck the Australians you can remember it.’
Although my body had warmed up from the warmth of the water my attitude was still icy and that was the way I stayed until we got back to San Pedro. I disdained Carlos’s offer of lunch and stomped off to the campsite to see Red and Robbie.
‘Well, seeing as you’re remembering it now, we might as well fuck.’ Red grinned as I got to the end of the story. I was so pleased to find them sitting outside the tent and they cheered me up with tea, sympathy and bacon rolls.
‘So you’re not being faithful to us?’ asked Robbie cheekily.
I hit him. ‘To us! Get you! You’re only the audience.’ I laughed.
‘And the narrator,’ he protested. ‘That’s pretty important too, eh?’
‘Yeah, of course it is. Well actually he did come first. But I wasn’t expecting him to turn up here. He gave me the address of a friend’s hotel in Santiago, and I assumed I’d see him there.’
‘What did he say about being at Macchu Picchu?’ asked Red curiously.
‘He said it wasn’t him, but it was! Honestly, I’m not imagining it. It was him all right, with his hair tied back, in the same cream suit and white collarless shirt I’d already seen him in. But why would he lie?’
They exchanged glances. I had that funny feeling there was something they weren’t telling me.
