Capable hands stroked the soft, damp skin of her inner thighs until his fingers reached the soft divide above. Her eyes were closed, dwelling on the sensations he excited. There was only her and him and a world that no longer existed beyond them. Viscous secretions pooled between her labia, coating her luscious cavern, allowing Reuben’s fingers to slip easily through her sex, stirring a whirlpool of erotic necessity. She released her breath on a sigh.
His two forefingers parted slightly, working slowly back and forth, avoiding direct contact with her clit and vaginal opening. The referred stimulation at each was delicate but with a soft, slow intensity that smouldered, causing Hayley to writhe, seeking firmer contact between his touch and her nerve endings. Impatience clawed at her insides as he maintained the lightest and slowest of touches, keeping her at a steady burn, needing to be taken higher, growing frustrated in her desires.
She couldn’t stand it any longer. ‘Reuben?’
‘Shush,’ he crooned. ‘Wait a little longer.’ He kept up the steady torment.
Her hips jerked of their own volition. She shoved her hands over his to force his pace, deepen his contact, but he kept her barred from her own doorway. Denied orgasm. And it excited her.
‘Let me do this, Hayley. It pleases me to see your need grow.’ His voice was growly and tight. He wanted to come as much as she did. She knew it. How could he maintain such tight control, when all she wanted to do was burst open?
He talked her through the trauma, helping her to last a bit longer. ‘Allow the tension to rise in you. The longer the delay, the finer the pay-off.’ His fingers relentlessly tortured her. ‘I want to deny you. To make you wait.’
Was he paying her back for rejecting his kiss? A moment of crisis hit her. Should she leave? Could she? Hayley knew she must drive the moment to its conclusion or die. Give him a taste of unfulfilled tension.
She reached behind her and covered his long shaft with the palm of her hand, pressing it backwards to his own taut belly. Her other fingers dipped to his balls, where she cupped with careful pressure or stroked with the lightest glide of her fingers. She felt them tighten and hitch beneath the she-devil’s work of her hand.
Reuben’s belly hardened. She rubbed the silken skin covering his cock up and down against it and listened to his breathing change.
‘Oh Hayley.’
The way he murmured her name, she knew, he wanted to come as much as she did. ‘Ride it out, Reuben. Hold back.’
‘Witch.’ He leant forward and nuzzled against her neck. His fingers pinched her nipple hard in payback.
She could hear teeth grinding and understood now how he could experience such dark pleasure, witnessing her desperately urgent desire to be fucked go unfulfilled. She enjoyed his gentle suffering for want of taking her body; the joy of making him wait until he could. It was primitive. Powerful. Orgasmic.
Hayley felt brittle, rigid, ready to fracture at a whisper, a breeze. A soft moan escaped as his fingers swept in avoidance past her swollen clit yet again. The sound undid Reuben. In one powerful movement he lifted her body and twisted, turning her to kneel beneath him on the wider lower bench. Her breasts rested on the upper bench and the heat from the wood suffused them, adding to the exhaustion of her labours.
Reuben pressed his body directly behind hers. He nudged her knees apart with his. He spread her arms out to either side, running his hands from her shoulders to her wrists and back again as she leant forward over the upper bench.
‘Stay like that,’ he ordered. With each inward sweep he fondled her breasts and teased her nipples, keeping her at the pinnacle of her need to orgasm.
Her mewling grew in volume as she neared. Hayley wasn’t sure if it was sweat or the copious amounts of come flooding her pulsing pussy that made a spider’s trail down her inner thighs.
Reuben’s hands abandoned her upper body. While one hand snaked across her belly and down over her pubic mound, massaging her flesh against her clit, the other sought his own swollen member. He pressed it from its erect state, down between her thighs, and lowered the height of his body. His arm clamped around her waist, raised her up to lean further forward over the bench. Her bottom was pushed out and his cock sought her tight, moist vagina. He began a slow invasion, stretching her wide and tight beneath his incursion.
‘Now, Reuben,’ she whispered, all energy spent. And he thrust. Hard. Her moan echoed around the small, dark sauna. He withdrew and thrust again, ramming her body against the hot wood of the bench. And again.
Her animal whines grew in pace and pitch as he forced her up and over the edge with each thrust. She was pinioned beneath his great body as it pleasured hers. He seemed to cleave himself to her and they moved with one will, until a powerful vaginal orgasm hit, tossing her over the rapids where she felt herself dropping headlong into the foaming waters of the eternal abyss beneath her. Only the sound of her own scream and the steady arm gripped about her waist told her she was still alive and he wouldn’t let her drown.
Reuben’s violent orgasm surged in the midst of her own, marked by a victorious roar. He released a hot gush of semen as her vaginal muscles went into spasm around his cock. His body arrested, rigid and still, as hers milked the living essence from the depths of him.
Still lost somewhere beyond life, Hayley drifted, linked only to this world by the man behind her and the powerful alchemy wrought between their bodies.
Suddenly, he fixed his mouth to the side of her neck and bit down hard, leaving his mark upon her. She focused her senses on life again.
A great shiver racked her body and dissipated, only to return over and over again. Reuben held her tightly until all tremors passed and she reconnected to the dimensions of her life once more. Here. In this dark, steamy sauna. With Reuben. Hot. Wet. Naked.
‘Are you OK?’ His voice was soft. Concerned?
Speech was still beyond her, as aftershock after aftershock trembled through her core. Hayley could only nod her reply. Why did he take her silence and stillness as if something was wrong? Nothing was wrong. Everything was right.
Except it was morning. She should be at work, in her office. Yet she was here. With Reuben. And they had just had the most amazing morning sex. Hayley slowly focused on reality. Suddenly, it felt too intimate. What she had done before in the dark of the night, with no one to witness, was one thing. This was something else.
She realised people would know. Alice. Tammy, the watchdog.
Hayley struggled out from beneath Reuben’s embrace. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it around herself and disappeared through into the changing area beyond. She pulled her T-shirt over her head and stepped into her shorts, yanking them up over her hips. She felt the echoing thrill of sex, incredible sex, still rolling through her tissues, teasing at her wetness, his emissions dripping from her body. Her feet pushed into each shoe as she zipped up her shorts. As Reuben emerged from the sauna behind her, she slipped the bolt and fled.
He knew better than to stop her.
Hayley glared at Tammy as she passed the reception desk, just daring her to comment on her flushed features, her just-been-fucked aura. Just one word.
The daylight outside was too bright. The pavement too hard for her feet as she ran back to her office.
Alice looked up as she went in. ‘Did you say – sorry, then …?’ Her voice faded away as she appeared to process the tell-tale appearance of her boss.
And how. Hayley stared back at Alice. If the girl couldn’t see the evidence written all over her face, then she was wasting her time in this business. She’d even left her underwear on the floor of the sauna. Well, Reuben could add it to his collection.
‘It’s forgotten.’ But she really didn’t see how it could be. Something had changed and she didn’t want to look at it too closely because she didn’t want things to change. Night-time sex was just tension relief. So what was this?
She didn’t want to know. ‘What have I got in my appointment book for this morning?’ She always knew what was in he
r appointment book, but all of a sudden she couldn’t think straight.
‘You were going to go over last night’s footage and arrange an appointment with Mrs Tanner,’ Alice said, looking at the diary. Looking anywhere but at Hayley.
‘I’ll do it from home. Make the appointment for late this afternoon. And make sure Paolo is set up for the job this evening. I’ll be back in plenty of time.’ It was her business; she could run it how she wanted.
Grabbing the digital back-up from last night out of the locked safe, Hayley left as quickly as she’d arrived. Had to get out of there. Couldn’t deal with Alice’s inquisitive glances. And if the girl even dared to ask her if she was all right … She was haunted by the same question.
Hayley took a different route home than she’d taken last night, obeying her own rules even in daylight. She’d be damned if she was driving past that gym again. In case she caught a glimpse of Reuben standing there.
He hadn’t understood her attitude over the stupid breakfast. He was never going to understand her rushing off like that. Hell, she didn’t even understand it. But she wasn’t about to investigate her own feelings either. Or care about Reuben’s. It was what it was. She wanted a scalding hot shower. Wanted to wash this off her the way she did with her clients.
Something prickled behind her eyes.
By the time Hayley returned to the office, last night’s footage was edited, she’d gathered the latest updates from tonight’s client, and was feeling brighter: focused on her job and not her life. Her team gathered around her for the briefing.
‘I’m pretty certain I know the reason Don Friar strays. If you look at the facts we have already it’s obvious.’
‘Even you can be surprised at times, boss.’
‘Thank you for pointing out my flaws to everyone, Paolo.’ Hayley gave him a mock-withering look.
The intensity of the work they did made her crew a real team.
‘What have we got, Hayley?’ Marty enquired.
Hayley considered Marty a valuable colleague, one she was glad to have on her side in many tricky situations. ‘Our client –’
‘Mrs Donald Friar.’
‘Thank you, Alice. Our client, Mrs Donald Friar, is a pretty straight-laced sort of woman. Married to Donald, 53, for nearly 25 years. From my conversations with her, I’d figure she’s not into anything one might think of as kinky sex.’ For some reason, the phrase made her think of Reuben and her in the sauna that morning. Except that wasn’t remotely kinky. So she had to stop thinking about it. About him. She continued. ‘We’ve observed Don Friar in several locations and they all point to one thing.’
‘Dominant or submissive sex.’ Alice seemed to enjoy providing the missing details before anyone else could, this evening. ‘And bondage.’
‘Thank you again, Alice. Is this a field of expertise?’ They all laughed as Alice’s face grew pink. ‘I’ve spoken to Mrs Friar about the possibility, but she simply won’t believe it of Donald.’
It was Paolo’s turn to join the dots. ‘So you’re going to have to get him in the act, so to speak. And I’ll film it.’
‘You needn’t sound so happy about the situation, Paolo. I’m the one who gets shafted every time.’
Everyone grew silent for a moment and looked at each other. Hayley threw her hands up over her face, breaking the tension, and they all burst out laughing.
‘Your sympathy has been noted,’ Hayley quipped.
‘So which are you hoping for, boss?’ Paolo teased. ‘Dominant or submissive?’
‘I have no strong preferences. I’ll take whatever’s thrown at me.’ That had them all laughing again. It was a night to laugh away troubles. ‘Everyone know their job?’
They nodded, so Hayley went out back to get changed. She wanted to cover a hint of both persuasions in her manner of costume – dominant and submissive – but tonight was mostly about location.
Paolo drove the van to the Blue Booty Club, a renowned meeting place for BDSM players and where, as she entered, Hayley could immediately see Don Friar, dressed like a booted lord of the manor. Submissive it was, then.
She drew a studded leather collar out of her handbag which matched her existing leather cuffs, and fixed it snugly around her neck. She sought out a dark corner, near to where Don was standing, surveying the scenery.
If she just wandered about for a bit, in Don’s wake, she figured she could find out the sort of stuff that interested him most, while Alice and Marty filmed covertly. Hayley acknowledged her own fascination. She was intrigued by the things going on around her and could understand why a masculine guy like Don might be compelled to attend one of the club nights, even when he had a wife waiting at home. The sights she witnessed made her hot and horny.
Something less pleasant niggled in the back of her mind.
Don moved towards a group surrounding some activity in one dark corner. A young woman was being shackled to a wooden frame by a half-naked beast of a man. He was stripped to the waist, wearing black leather trousers and boots, his face obscured by a leather mask reminding Hayley of the executioners in medieval movies.
The woman struggled ineffectually against the restraints she’d been placed in by her powerful captor and pleaded with him to release her, not to hurt her. He laughed callously at her distress. It was a well performed theatrical. Hayley had seen real fear before, and knew this was an act for the titillation of the crowd. She glanced across at her target. Don was only one of a number of spectators who were thoroughly entranced, lost in the fantasy of the helpless woman’s domination.
The executioner grasped the woman’s white, flowing gown at the neckline and ripped it mercilessly down her back. She was naked beneath, exposed to the audience. His ruthless act made her cry for mercy and clemency. Undaunted, the villain picked up a flogger. He trailed it in deliberate torment across her back and over the swell of her buttocks.
A silence of voyeuristic anticipation fell on the crowd. All waited for the first blow to be struck, as if replacing themselves mentally in the role of cruel master or errant submissive, awaiting punishment. Hayley couldn’t help imagining herself shackled to the rack, stretched limb from limb, expecting the inevitable torture. She grew more excited.
The whooshing sound of leather fronds flew through the air and Hayley flinched as they fell, while the victim bucked against their sting. Hayley clenched her buttocks and her teeth. No matter that this was consensual, the whipping was truly taking place and the girl experienced the power of the executioner’s hand delivering pain. Hayley felt the sensual stimulation. Her nipples tightened.
She held her breath as the muscular arm retreated once more, drawing the flogger back beyond a powerful shoulder until it flowed in a second graceful arc, ending in the crack of harsh leather against soft skin. The girl’s buttocks soon revealed livid marks where the whip struck and she writhed against its sting, her expression a reflection of both anguish and pleasure.
Hayley pressed her thighs together, aware of the dampness growing between them.
The executioner stepped closer and caressed the woman’s reddened flesh with his leather-gloved hands, soothing away the hurt he had joyfully inflicted. Hayley heard the harsh breath of the aroused spectators beside her. She grew aware that her own breathing matched theirs and was fascinated by the number of women who enjoyed the vicarious experience of submission to a ruthless male. It dawned on her she was one of them.
‘Who will come and feel the maiden’s hot, punished flesh?’ The executioner interrupted her thoughts, pointing his flogger around the crowd.
Two men stepped forward. The executioner held one back with his whip hand while he nodded for the other to move in and caress the woman’s naked body. Hayley noted he was protecting her as well as punishing her.
The volunteer’s hand slid eagerly over her hot bottom and she whimpered as if too sore to be touched. ‘Save me sir,’ she pleaded. ‘I’ll be a good girl and won’t allow a wicked man to touch my body again, sir, if only you’ll sa
ve me from the lash.’
The participant was gently pulled away by the executioner. ‘This sinful woman must learn the error of her wanton ways. The sentence will be carried out in full.’
He reached up and turned the restraining frame on its pivot until the woman was facing the small crowd who had gathered. Her white robes, torn apart at the back, still hung from her body, covering her in front. The executioner lifted her hem at one side and handed it to a man watching from that position. He handed another part of the garment’s folds to a spectator behind him on the other side, then theatrically pulled a small blade from his leather belt. Raising the woman’s hem, he cut a nick in the fabric and indicated to the two men to rip the garment from her body.
A tearing sound ensued as the robe was pulled in opposite directions, leaving the woman naked before them all. Her voluptuous figure was silently appreciated by the transfixed crowd.
‘Stand back,’ the executioner demanded. ‘The wench must suffer the lash to atone for the sins of her flesh.’
Hayley knew there were plentiful sins of the flesh being committed around her as paired couples caressed and fondled each other’s bodies in the sexual excitement created by the spectacle. Stimulated herself, she turned and glanced across at Don. He caught her eye for a moment, then turned back to watch the performance.
First contact.
Again the executioner wielded his lash. He struck firmly across the woman’s full breasts, then allowed the leather fronds to descend more gently and curl between her thighs. She wriggled sinuously under their kiss. Her face flushed and she gasped air between parted lips. Her skin was pink and glowing, her pussy fully shaven.
‘The wanton wench enjoys it,’ the executioner roared. ‘Who will stand witness to her shame?’
He pointed his whip again at the crowd and invited a woman to feel her nipples and declare how erect and tight they were.
One, dressed in a latex corset, stepped up. She clearly enjoyed her participation in the event, encouraged vocally by her female partner. She slid her fingers across the captive’s breasts, running the turgid peaks between her fingers. Taking finger and thumb, she rolled and twisted the captive’s nipples firmly, making her groan.
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