The Black Widow
Page 20
‘Unless you want me to get the bulldog clips back,’ Sky began, ‘I’d suggest that you start telling me about Jo Valentine.’ She took Wendy’s nipple between her finger and thumb. Staring meaningfully into her face, she said, ‘You wouldn’t want me to punish you again, would you?’
With a frightened sob, Wendy shook her head and began to cry.
Sky could see her resistance wearing down, as though the emotions were visible in her tear-stained face. She had seen the same thing in the sauna, but this time the lesson seemed to have been properly learnt. There was no trace of defiance in the sultry green depths of Wendy’s eyes. There was only an expression of sorrowful servility. It was exactly the way Sky wanted her to be.
Wendy nodded unhappily as if to confirm Sky’s unspoken suspicions. ‘Jo Valentine is the investigator that you’re looking for,’ she explained in a flat tone. ‘She’s been sent here by the other Mrs Meadows.’ She graced Sky with a fearful expression.
When she spoke about Jo Valentine, Sky noticed a tinge of reluctance in her voice, as though she was unhappy divulging the information.
Her tone grew heavier and even more reluctant as she added, ‘Right now, you’ll find her in the east wing.’
Sky stared at Wendy’s miserable face with a cruel smile. ‘What’s so special about the east wing?’
Wendy shook her head and turned away. ‘Why don’t you go and find out?’
Sky raised a suspicious eyebrow then let the outburst go. She could see that it had taken a lot for Wendy to betray the private investigator and Sky supposed she should have been grateful for that much of a concession. She realised Wendy was very frightened and might be too scared to tell her what she would find in the east wing. None of that excused her defiance, but it made it understandable, and because of that Sky let the challenge go unpunished. She took her drink from Poppy and sipped thoughtfully at the glass of fruit juice. ‘So, Jo Valentine’s in the east wing at this very moment.’
Wendy nodded, still unwilling to meet Sky’s questioning eyes.
‘Then I’ll go and find her,’ Sky decided. ‘I think it’s about time I spoke to this private investigator. Perhaps I’ll also find what you’ve been hiding in the east wing?’
Accepting a glass juice from Poppy, Wendy looked away. Her cheeks had darkened to a furious red blush and Sky longed to know what secret the woman was keeping.
Curiosity gnawed at her, but she resisted the temptation to force Wendy to talk. It would be far easier to go and investigate for herself. Admittedly, it was disconcerting that the woman whom she had just dominated was now defying her and would not even meet her gaze. Such insubordination could be dealt with later, she assured herself. It could be dealt with after she had investigated the mystery of the east wing.
A warning voice tried to insist that she should find out something more before she left Wendy, but curiosity had the better of her. The need to know what was hiding there seemed far more important than the need for caution, especially within the walls of a health farm that she now controlled. After all, sky told herself confidently, surely there could not be anything so terrible waiting in the east wing.
Ten
Alone, and more than a little apprehensive, Jo took a tentative step towards the east wing, preparing to seek out the storeroom. Her heart thumped in her chest and she swallowed a nervous lump in her throat. Wrapping the robe tightly round herself for comfort, she moved bravely into the darkness. Warily, she moved towards a discreet corridor and squinted in the darkness, trying to discren lettering on one of the sterile white doors.
Her heart was beating faster than she wanted and her skin was chilled by a rash of gooseflesh. The key in her hand had been cold when it was initially pressed there. Now it felt hot and slick with her nervous sweat. As she willed her eyes to adjust to the gloom, she wondered what she should expect to find in the storeroom. She had been told she would find an answer there but people often said that to her and Jo had begun to realise that it was invariably an exaggeration. The place was a storeroom and she knew it was more likely she would find some brooms and a bottle of floor cleaner. Anything more than that and she supposed she could consider it a bonus.
Shivering with trepidation, she stroked her fingers over the dusty plaque of the last door in the corridor and realised this was the one she was looking for. She placed her hand against the knob and twisted it fully but it did not give. Feeling confident that she had the right room, Jo slid the key into the lock and began to twist it to one side. She tried to do this as quietly as she could, but was unable to mute the deafening click and shift of the tumblers as they obeyed the turn of the key. In the lightless corridor, the sound was like a thunderous wake-up call.
Jo held her breath and placed her hand on the door knob. She was about to twist it and push open the door when a small sound made her stop. She paused, straining to hear something identifiable behind the door. After a moment, she felt a nervous shiver tingle along her spine. She was certain that inside the storeroom she could hear the sound of someone breathing. It was a disturbing noise and the fear it evoked chilled her.
It had already been an unsettling evening, the only high point being the passion she had shared with Wendy. Tracing a wet tongue against her lips, Jo could still taste the tincture of pussy honey that lingered there. The flavour inspired a reflective smile as she remembered the intimacy she and Wendy had enjoyed. With her eyes closed, she was able to relive the moment when their naked bodies were finally entwined as they began to explore each other. The intimacy had been heady and the satisfaction intense.
It was only when they finished making love that Jo realised she was in Wendy’s bedroom for a reason.
‘It’s time for you to follow me,’ Wendy had said.
‘I thought you wanted to talk.’
‘There isn’t the time to talk.’ In the dim light of the bedroom, Wendy’s face had been etched with a frown. ‘And it isn’t safe for you to be here. I’ll have to show you.’
Outside the storeroom, with her hand resting on the door knob, Jo remembered the stealthy race along the health farm’s darkened corridors towards the east wing. The memory of how close they had come to meeting the Black Widow still made her shiver.
Wendy had stopped close to the kitchen. She held Jo in the shadows and silenced her with a finger against her lips. Jo could smell the scent of her own pussy juice on Wendy’s hand and the light, subtle fragrance increased the tingling wetness between her legs. The pulse within her humid cleft beat a fraction harder but she had done as Wendy said and remained silent.
The Black Widow had been standing in the kitchen doorway with her back to Jo and Wendy. Jo had not seen Sky Meadows previously but she recognised the woman on sight. The description that Allen and Wendy had given was flawless, from the stark styling of her blonde hair to the tight-fitting black lingerie she wore.
Jo had held her breath and struggled to get further into the concealing shadows. In the darkness it had been easy to hear what was going on.
‘Sky? Is that you? Why don’t you come in here and join us?’ Beyond Allen’s voice, Jo heard the giggle and pant of the breathless lovers who shared the kitchen with him.
‘I’m trying to find Jo Valentine.’ The Black Widow’s voice was crisp and chilling. ‘That woman and I have some business to attend to.’
In the shadows, Jo swallowed and said a prayer of thanks that the Black Widow had not managed to find her.
‘Have you tried Wendy’s room?’ Allen suggested.
Wendy had released an angry sigh and muttered, ‘Arsekisser.’
Jo was in heartfelt agreement with Wendy’s curse.
‘Why would she be there?’ the Black Widow demanded.
There had been no audible reply to this question. Obviously angry, Sky stormed out of the kitchen and headed back towards the stairs.
With the key twisted fully in the storeroom door, Jo tried stop her mind recounting the last few minutes. She still felt guilty for having left Wendy t
o deal with Sky, but the woman had insisted. The memory made her feel cowardly and manipulative even though she knew those were not her motivations. Despite Wendy’s reassurances, Jo felt certain the woman had placed herself in an unenviable situation.
As soon as the Black Widow had stormed out of earshot, Wendy held Jo in her arms and whispered, ‘You’ll have to go on your own. I need to stop her from searching the entire building.’
‘Will you be all right?’ Jo had asked. ‘She looks like she could be trouble.’
In the shadows, Wendy’s smile had been barely visible. ‘The Black Widow is trouble, but I think I know what I’m doing.’ She had pressed a cold key into Jo’s hand and told her it was for the storeroom. ‘You’ll need this.’
‘What am I meant to be doing?’
Wendy’s reply was Infuriatingly enigmatic. ‘You’ll find out. I’ve got to get back to Sky. She won’t rest until she’s found one of us.’
‘She’s not likely to hurt you, is she?’ Jo had asked.
Wendy shrugged by way of response. ‘Perhaps. Maybe not. I don’t know what she’ll do and it doesn’t matter anyway. The important thing is that you need to go to the east wing. You’ll get all the answers you need from the storeroom.’
Now, listening to the sound of someone’s muted breathing on the other side of the door, Jo wondered if that was true. Trying to quell the fearful hammering of the heartbeat, she willed herself to come to a quick decision. It was pitch black in the east-wing corridor and she could detect no telltale sliver of light beneath the storeroom door. That meant that, if there was someone in the storeroom, they were waiting in the dark. The thought was unnerving but it did not stop her. She could not deny being scared, but she was also intrigued. Preparing herself for whatever was waiting for her, Jo twisted the knob to one side and pushed the door open.
As she had thought, it was pitch black inside and she paused for a moment, trying to prepare herself for someone, or something, to lurch out at her. For an hour-long minute she waited just outside the door. She could no longer hear the breathing she had been listening to earlier. The nervous pounding of her own pulse beat like a drum at her temples. When she was almost convinced that nothing would reach out and grab her, Jo dared to reach a hand inside the room and tentatively scour the wall for a light switch. Her fingers fell on a small button and, without a moment’s hesitancy, she threw it down.
Stark neon light spattered against the walls then buzzed into life as a constant bright bar along the ceiling. The room was suddenly filled with a brilliant whiteness that pained her dark-adjusted eyes. Jo blinked away the momentary sting and focused her gaze on the source of the breathing. She drew a startled breath, then stepped properly into the storeroom, closing the door behind herself without taking her gaze away from the man.
The walls were dungeon-like, bare and gloomy. The only things that adorned them were a set of manacles secured to one wall and a selection of whips, crops and canes mounted on another. Jo ignored all these distractions. Her attention was riveted on the man.
He was sitting on a small wooden chair in the centre of the room. She saw that his ankles were tied to the chair’s legs and his hands were secured behind him. Over his head he wore a tight-fitting leather mask. There was no space for eye-holes. From her place by the door, Jo could barely detect the two holes above his nostrils. The principal opening in the mask was a large circle over his mouth, pushed in slightly by a silencing ball gag. Intrigued, Jo stepped closer.
He was naked save for a pair of rubber shorts. Through the slit at the front, Jo noticed that his long pink length was standing proud. She smiled thoughtfully as she walked round the man, fascinated by his vulnerability. A frown crossed her brow when she remembered Wendy’s reassurance that all would be revealed in the storeroom. There would be only one way to get any answers from this man, she thought, and that would involve taking off his gag.
With lurid images tumbling through her mind, she decided that removing his mask would have to be a last option. As she walked round him, she studied the long, eager length of hard pink flesh. He was huge, bigger than anyone she had ever seen before. She stared at his erection, unable to prevent a salacious smile from widening her lips.
Because its owner was bound and blindfold, his erection was hers, for her to do with as she wished. It was an exciting prospect. As all the possibilities of such a scenario occurred to her, she found it more and more difficult to deny the demanding pulse of her arousal.
There were a lot of questions spinning through her mind. She wanted to know who he was and how he had come to be secured like this. She also wanted to know who had tied him to the chair and why. She wanted to know a lot of things but, as the tingling urgency of her excitement increased, she realised that those answers could all wait for a little while.
Jo stepped out of the dressing-gown she had been wearing and stretched her naked body before him. She found it unbelievably arousing to stand bare in front of the man, realising that he could not see her or even know of her intentions. As she rolled the heel of her palm against her own bare breast, she was pleasantly startled by the prickle of pleasure that coursed from the tip. She stroked a finger against the lips of her sex, then dared to ease one into the warm haven of her pussy. Spurred on by the wealth of fire she found, Jo slid the finger out and smiled at the coating of dewy wetness she had left there. Putting the finger beneath the two tiny nostril holes in the mask, she watched the bound figure as he inhaled the sweet fragrance of her arousal.
His entire body stiffened as he detected the musky scent. His broad chest puffed out and his long hard cock grew more rigid, as though it was preparing itself for her. Once she had caught another glimpse of his stiffening length, Jo found herself unable to tear her gaze away from it. She guessed the cock was at least twelve inches long, with a massive girth that came close to being the thickness of her wrist.
As his excitement intensified, she watched his foreskin peel back. His cock stood tall and proud. The pale-pink flesh contrasted with the shiny black rubber of his shorts. With all of his foreskin rolled back, his broad, glistening dome was revealed to her. The eye of his cock was wet beneath a pearl of pre-come and Jo felt an irresistible urge to lick the bead of arousal away.
He shifted his head from side to side, his shoulders pulling forward as he struggled against his restraints. Jo took a tentative step away from him before reminding herself that he was blindfolded and gagged. Her rational mind told her that he was trying to decide whether he was alone and suffering from the delusions of an overactive imagination or if he really had caught the fragrance of her pussy honey.
Encouraged and excited by his vulnerability, Jo wafted the tip of her finger beneath the nostrils of his mask again. For a second time she saw the man stiffen and watched his long, thick length twitch forcibly. He inhaled her fragrance in short, tentative bursts, releasing his breath in muffled groans.
Still fascinated by his huge cock, Jo knelt down in front of the man and traced a finger against the warm flesh. He groaned softly against his gag, unable to suppress the sound as she caressed him.
She knew that she should not really be trying to use him in this way, aware that he might have answers that could help with her case. At the back of her mind Jo knew she was wasting valuable time not pursuing this avenue of enquiry, but the heat between her legs was far more demanding than the nagging of her curiosity. Before she could waste more time on something as frivolous as thinking, she pushed her mouth over his length.
His cock was so big she had to stretch her lips to fit her mouth over him. That thought alone added to the heat burning in her loins. She had known a lot of men in her time and enjoyed most of them immensely. However, she did not think she had ever known one as large as this man. The thought of trying to accommodate this gargantuan cock in the warm, velvety haven of her pussy sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through her.
Sucking softly, she heard him groan. She glanced down between his legs and saw that his bal
ls were a tight, pre-climactic sac. Tentatively, she traced a finger against them, stroking the wrinkled flesh of his scrotum through the thick swatch of dark hairs. His obvious appreciation only added to her enjoyment as she sucked on his swollen end. The debilitating taste of his pre-come filled her mouth. Her fingers traced the length of his cock as her mouth worked on the end and she tried not to think of his overwhelming size. Instead, she concentrated on teasing him with her mouth and her tongue. As soon as her jaw became uncomfortable stretching around him, she moved her lips away. Her tongue was coated with his sweet, salty flavour and she could feel the pulse of her urgent need beating more strongly as she savoured the taste.
Rather than trying to swallow him, which she knew she could never manage, Jo contented herself with licking and lapping at the thick solid shaft. Rolling the flat of her palm over the pulsing tip of his cock, she toyed with the idea of taking him between her legs. He was one hell of a size, she thought, unable to decide if that realisation inspired fear or arousal. Regardless of the feelings it aroused, she could not purge the image from her mind. She could picture herself straddling him, teasing the tip of his great organ against her tight, wet cleft, then slowly lowering herself on to him. The idea was vivid and overwhelming. Caught by the excitement of all the feelings it inspired, Jo traced her tongue against him for one last time. She stood up and took his length in both hands as she stood over him.
For a moment she was struck again by the question of who he was. It was a puzzle and she promised herself that, as soon as she had satisfied her appetite, she would deal with her curiosity. The identity of the man behind the mask was intriguing, but her urgency to find out more about him was nowhere near as demanding as her need to experience him. She was being taken over by the frantic pulse of her demanding appetite and Jo knew better than to ignore that feeling.