The Innocent

by John Argus

  Of course Zoe did not know – or at that precise moment, care. She was appalled and distracted by the knowledge that she had all but indecently exposed herself in public, and trying frantically to understand how it could have happened, and how she could apologise to Mr Erasmus for humiliating him in such a way. And what if her father found out about it? Sir Patrick had been there. Would he tell her father?

  She only realised what Selina was doing after the girl finished opening her blouse to expose her breasts, and then her eyes were immediately drawn to two small silver rings piercing the petite girl’s delicate nipples. She stared at them, open-mouthed, as they evoked thoughts of the card lying on the coffee table before them. She was shocked, and yet she could not help but admire how beautiful Selina’s breasts looked adorned with jewellery. ‘But… but how…?’ she stammered, shocked and spellbound. ‘I mean, why?’

  Selina hung her head as she replied. ‘I’ve come to realise you don’t conquer your nature, Zoe. You can only control it a little by accepting it. I will give myself to my fiancé for him to enjoy, as his plaything as well as his partner. I will kneel at his feet as a proper wife should. The rings are a symbol that I will submit to his will and his strength.’ It was all nonsense, but well-scripted nonsense. Allison had taken her to the small shop herself and overseen the piercing, and made it clear that Selina belonged to her, and would submit to her will and her will alone, and not waste her time with an ignorant, witless little husband. Selina might have argued, for there were no threats in Allison’s demand, and she had come to know the woman well enough to realise she really had no intention of showing the damning photographs to anyone, but she had not argued.

  She exhaled heavily, and looked up at Zoe’s wide, startled, inquisitive eyes.

  ‘Did… did it hurt?’ the girl asked.

  ‘Only for an instant,’ Selina replied, almost proudly. She shrugged off her jacket and blouse and then slipped her hands up behind her head, arching her back to push out her pert, pierced breasts. ‘Don’t they look sexy?’

  Despite Zoe’s reservations, they did look sexy – very sexy. She glanced at the card on the table, and then back at Selina’s breasts. She licked her lips, thinking not just about how sexy she would look with her nipples pierced too, but about how angry Mr Erasmus was with her. Would he like it if she had rings like those? Would it help make it up to him for embarrassing him at the function? Perhaps she should simply throw herself at his feet and confess that she was, as Selina had suggested, a prisoner to her own wicked lusts, and promise to serve and obey him forever. Would he cast her out, or would he, like the erudite man he was, conclude that he could tame and make her his?

  ‘I think you should get yours done, too,’ Selina suggested, voicing Zoe’s own wicked thoughts, although it was what Allison had primed her to say.

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ Zoe dismissed the suggestion.

  ‘Well, you have to do something to make it up to Erasmus, don’t you?’ Selina cajoled.

  ‘I know but… I don’t think I could do that.’ Her parents would be furious. What kind of a girl would put rings in her nipples? Yet Selina was a nice girl, even if she was as weak and prone to inner demons as she was, but her parents would simply not understand, and she did not think Mr Erasmus would either.

  ‘There’s more.’ Selina’s eyes flickered away as if embarrassed, then she stood up and her fingers moved to the waistband of her skirt, she undid the clasp, and slipped the blue garment down her slender legs with an alluring wriggle and a seductive whisper of material against flesh. Beneath it she was naked, and still carefully shaved. Only now, as Zoe’s widening eyes noted, a silver ring proudly adorned her neat pussy lips.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Zoe squealed.

  ‘It hurt a little more than my nipples when it was done,’ Selina admitted, her voice a little breathless. ‘But I’m told that when it’s healed completely I’ll feel much more sensitive down there.’

  Zoe wondered, aghast, why any girl would want to feel more sensitive down there. Already she could hardly stand it when those lurid feelings welled up from between her thighs. It did look beautiful, though.

  Selina sank slowly to her knees before the couch, her eyes strangely glassy. ‘Oh, Zoe,’ she whispered, ‘you have no idea what it feels like, what it felt like, with so many… men there, all of them wanting me.’

  ‘What?’ Zoe was utterly confused by what was going on.

  ‘Last night I… I went somewhere, where I was blindfolded, Zoe, and my hands were bound behind me, and I was led into a room full of men,’ Selina confessed, unbidden. ‘I could hear them speaking, could hear them talking about me. Their hands were all over me, then their lips as well. For hour after hour they did incredible things to my body, all of them at once.’

  Zoe was both repelled and transfixed as Selina described what the group had done to her. And so shocked was she, so overwhelmed by the images the girl painted, that she thought nothing of Selina’s hands as they stroked her thighs beneath her robe, nor of the feel of the girl’s long, silky hair as she pressed her face in her lap. And when she pushed her robe open and eased her thighs apart to bury her face between them, Zoe could only stare down at her lustrous hair, catching the soft light as her head moved tenderly, and moan. She slumped against the cushions as Selina’s tongue probed against her sex. The heat and hunger in her mind made it impossible for her to push the girl away, her head filled with images of herself being ravished again and again while bound and blindfolded, and then punished for the pleasure she had taken in the ordeal, by being soundly flogged. Her hips began writhing as her fingers entwined in Selina’s hair, and she cried out in wanton pleasure, glorying in the feel of a devoted tongue slithering up and down between the tight folds of her sex.

  Soon they were both naked, their arms and legs intertwined as their lips met in a soft, sensual embrace, and Zoe felt the stimulating touch of cool metal against her nipples as Selina’s breasts moulded against them.

  ‘You need to surrender to your true nature, Zoe,’ she whispered, straddling her. ‘You need to give yourself to Erasmus and do something, something big, to make up for the embarrassment you caused him.’

  ‘W-what should I do?’ she panted.

  ‘Ask him. He’ll make you do something to punish you, something to teach you a lesson, maybe something that will help him, too. Throw yourself at his feet and beg him to punish you, Zoe.’

  The next morning, Zoe was wishing she had been more opposed to taking Selina’s advice when she found herself naked on the floor in Mr Erasmus’s office. Her ankles were bound tightly back and apart with her own stockings. Her wrists were secured beneath her with a long curtain cord obtained from the window, which he had then pulled down between her legs, forcing her wrists down so her back arched uncomfortably. He had then stretched the cord straight up between her thighs and tied it to the same chain that had held her wrists up the previous day.

  Her position beneath the chain was such that the cord was forced up between the lips of her sex, splitting them open and grinding against her clitoris every time she moved. There was a small knot tied in the cord just where it ground against her sex, and any energetic movement she made had the knot pressing directly against her exposed clitoris in a way that made her hiss with anguish.

  And she had moved quite energetically since being placed in this position, for after binding her, Mr Erasmus summoned Ms Beacher to punish her further. It was an hour before the woman was available, but when she did finally appear, she was quick to castigate Zoe for her immoral dress and behaviour, and to attack her breasts with relish, slapping them again and again with a wooden ruler until they were blotchy red and the nipples excruciatingly tenderised.

  Ms Beacher accused Zoe of flaunting her body at the function because she was a wanton, undisciplined trollop, who should be utterly ashamed for letting down Mr Erasmus, and the whole department.


  Zoe remained in that position for what felt like hours, pondering her waywardness, her back ached, her arms and legs growing cramped and sore, and then numb. At last Mr Erasmus drew a chair over to sit beside her and gaze mournfully at her straining body as he shook his head.

  ‘I don’t know what I’m to do with you, Zoe,’ he sighed wearily. ‘You constantly disappoint me. I had hoped I could trust you at the function, but clearly I was mistaken.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she moaned. ‘I didn’t know the suit was transparent. Honestly, I didn’t know.’

  ‘Stop making excuses,’ he snapped. ‘I want you to admit to me that you wore that swimsuit to exhibit yourself.’

  ‘But I didn’t!’ she denied desperately.

  ‘I think you did.’

  ‘I’ll do anything to make it up to you, sir, please. You can… you can whip me if you think I deserve it.’

  ‘Whip you?’ He rubbed his chin pensively.

  ‘Yes, you can hang me up and whip me, please…’

  ‘Perhaps, but causing you pain is not something I particularly enjoy, Zoe.’

  ‘I’ll let you do anything, sir, anything…’

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You swear?’

  ‘Anything.’

  He reached out and gripped the taut cord running up to the chain, then began idly and rhythmically tugging on it. The movement caused her wrists to be forced down even more painfully, and made the cord saw back and forth between the lips of her sex and across her clitoris. ‘Then you will do something for my friend, Sir Patrick,’ he said decisively.

  ‘Sir Patrick?’ She blinked up at him in tormented confusion. ‘I don’t understand, sir.’

  ‘It’s a very sad situation, Zoe,’ Erasmus explicated mournfully. ‘His wife has a medical condition, and Sir Patrick himself is gravely ill. Therefore I want you to ease his pain and unhappiness.’

  He had not seemed at all unhappy to Zoe, but she supposed a man could hide his feelings better than a silly young thing like her.

  ‘You will invite him to your flat, and wear something very pretty, very special, and you will give yourself to him so he can once again, and perhaps for the last time in his illustrious life, enjoy the pleasures of a ripe and sensual young female.’

  She gaped at him, unable to believe her ears. ‘I – I couldn’t possibly do that,’ she gasped.

  ‘You vowed you would do anything,’ he reminded her, ‘and yet immediately you go back on your word.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Yet again you disappoint me, Zoe Quincanon…’

  ‘But… but I can’t!’ she pleaded. ‘I mean, he’s old and… and he’s my father’s friend, and he’ll—’

  ‘You will do this if you care about me, Zoe. It will be an act of kindness for Sir Patrick, and what’s more, if you do it to the best of your abilities, I’ll make sure those orphans get the money you were looking for. There are quite a number of people in the party who don’t want the orphanage to survive, you know, because if it survives and flourishes, it may force the government to have a rethink and reopen a whole series of new homes.’

  He continued playing idly with the cord, the little knot ground harshly back and forth over her clitoris, and she grew increasingly distracted as excruciating pleasure simmered deep in her tummy.

  ‘It will make him very happy, Zoe, very happy indeed,’ Erasmus went on, his voice low and seductive. ‘Just think, you could pay such a good man, a man who has served his country so selflessly, no greater honour than to give yourself to him – completely.

  ‘And it will make the orphans very happy too, and may even help to finally quell this unbridled and unhealthy lust of yours.’ He slipped off the chair and knelt by her head. Her view of him was bleary, and grew even worse as he took her face firmly between his hands and forced her head back even farther. Then his erection was at her lips, pressing between them. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, holding her head in position, and began tugging rhythmically at the cord again. Each pull forced her shoulders back further and made her arch more deeply, her breasts thrusting out. And then he stabbed with his hips and she felt his slick helmet pushing down into her throat.

  Beacher stared into the mirror, more than a little stunned as her naked image stared back at her. The feel of the ruler as it struck Zoe’s young breasts had been deliciously arousing. The sound – the short, sharp report of wood smacking against soft flesh – had been a delight to her ears. The sight of the girl writhing, her moans and cries of pain, and the outrageous bondage under which she had willingly placed herself at Erasmus’s seductive encouragement, had all left her with a terrible sexual need the bastard had refused to satisfy.

  Not that she had wanted him to take her there, in front of the girl, but his casual dismissal of her, as though she were a mere servant, had grated on her nerves. And when she was almost immediately confronted by Allison Parker in the corridor outside his office, the combination of arousal and guilt robbed her of her normal glib rhetorical skills.

  She had allowed herself to be led, almost forced, to Parker’s office, and there confusion and excitement gave way to one shock after the other as the blonde unveiled the depths of her knowledge concerning Beacher’s and Erasmus’s activities with Zoe. She recognised the scandal and loss of employment that would result if the story were made public, and she was willing to do anything to prevent it, which was how she came to be standing naked in Allison Parker’s office, her arms raised high and chained above her, metal clamps digging into her wrists as she fought to keep from fainting. Her bare feet were cold against the highly polished floor, and in front of her was a wide, nearly full-length mirror.

  Beacher was proud of her body, which for her age was still acceptably firm and supple, her small breasts still pert and her bottom still relatively tight. Her flesh was pale except for her face, which was a mottled pink and red with shame. Her eyes were dazed, and she could hardly bear to look at herself.

  Allison pulled on the low chains attached to Beacher’s ankles and spread them remorselessly apart, so that she was forced onto her toes in order to keep from hanging by her wrists. But her gasps and moans and embarrassed appeals drew only throaty chuckles from Allison.

  ‘Now Veronica, dear, I’m sure you’ll be more amenable to conversation like this,’ the blonde taunted, ‘since you and Steven seem so deeply involved in such games yourselves.’

  She could not speak; she was too mortified. Her toes trembled and the metal dug into her wrists. She looked down, noting her stiff nipples. Allison Parker was fully dressed in a camelhair blazer and white trousers, which made her feel even more naked, but worst of all was the presence of Allison’s cute assistant. The girl was dressed in a tight, light-blue dress, and her calm, casual regard made Veronica’s face burn. Then she gasped in pain as Allison tugged on her hair from behind, forcing her head back.

  ‘Now tell me all about what Steven plans for Zoe,’ she demanded. ‘I assure you, I’ve already figured out almost all of it.’

  Veronica still could not speak, so horrified was she when she saw the thin cane sliding in and out between her thighs. It pushed up firmly into her sex as it stroked back and forth, and she trembled, barely repressing an urge to buck her hips against it.

  ‘Remember this? It was in your office, in the closet. You used it on poor Zoe.’ Allison pulled the cane back suddenly, and lashed it down across her buttocks. ‘Confess all, Veronica,’ she insisted. ‘Confess all and the truth will set you free. You don’t want to protect slimy old Steven Erasmus, anyway.’

  The cane slashed across her bottom three times in quick succession, and the pain flared hot in her mind as she twisted and pulled at her bonds. And then the Chinese girl moved forward, her heels clicking on the polished stone floor, and sank to her knees before her. Veronica’s eyes bulged as she looked down at the n
eatly parted raven hair, and watched the lovely fresh face push in against her pussy.

  The cane cut across her bottom again, and then across her lower back as the girl’s tongue slid up against her sex. Veronica writhed, caught between the attentive mouth before her and the cruel bite of the cane from behind, her mind frantic as she writhed helplessly between intense pain and intense pleasure.

  Zoe put down the phone, still feeling awful, and then raised her eyes.

  ‘He said yes, I presume?’ Erasmus demanded confidently.

  She nodded.

  ‘Excellent.’

  Zoe had called Sir Patrick’s office and requested a lift home, telling him she needed to apologise for her behaviour at the function, and also to discuss something with him. She was surprised by how quickly he had agreed – Steven Erasmus was not.

  Normand Miller passed Erasmus’s closed door yet again, fighting against the desire to burst in and see what was taking place inside the office. He had to see her, no matter what the risk, yet other employees passing by prevented him from making the attempt. But at last the corridor was empty, and he pressed himself against the polished wood, listening intently and gripping the handle.

  Knowing it was probably a great folly, he tried it, but the damned door was locked, so cursing he gave up and stalked away. For being constantly thwarted he was more determined than ever, and he was going to see her later, no matter the risk. He was going to see her and once and for all have her all to himself, and that’s all there was to it.

  Without even bothering with an excuse this time, he left work early and was soon approaching Zoe’s flat. As before, he felt his nervousness grow as he neared the front door, casting furtive glances all around. No one was about except for an older gentleman walking an ugly little dog. The man turned into Zoe’s building and Normand followed him. They rode the tiny lift up together, but to Normand’s relief the man and his hideous canine did not get off on the same floor.