Broken Blue: The Complete Series

by Amy Cross

  "And where is she now?"

  Alice steps forward and kisses me on the forehead. "I'm right here," she says quietly, before turning and walking over to Mark. She briefly holds one of her hands up, touching the strap that's tied around her chest.

  "But if -" I start to say, before suddenly feeling Mr. White's hand on my shoulder.

  "Are you ready?" he asks, sounding totally dispassionate about the whole thing.

  I nod. Although I'm scared and nervous, there's definitely a part of me that finds this kind of exciting. I wish I was the kind of girl who'd run screaming from such an encounter; I wish I was the kind of girl who had some kind of emotional or moral objection to letting this guy have sex with me. The truth, though, is that I seem to have this cold, hard core that recognizes the value of doing something even if it's not ideal. It's not that I particularly want to have sex with Mr. White; it's more than, in the context of my relationship with Mark, I can see that this is something I need to do. Sure, I could turn and walk out of here, but then I'd be losing Mark. If this is what I need to do, in order to stay with him for a little longer, then I'll do it. Maybe it makes me a slut or a whore, and maybe that's something that'll bother me at some later stage, but right now I'm willing to do anything.

  "Get on your hands and knees," Mr. White says.

  Taking a deep breath, I do what he says. I look over at Mark and Alice, as Mr. White positions himself behind me. He places his hands on my waist, and moments later I feel the tip of his penis slip inside the entrance to my vagina. I swallow hard, and I wait as I feel him slowly slide himself all the way inside. He takes a slightly different grip, and then I hear him grunt as he starts slowly fucking me. I wish I could say it doesn't feel good, or that I feel uncomfortable, but the truth is: there's definitely a part of me that likes this, especially as I look at Mark and see him staring back at me.

  "I need to talk to you about something," Alice says, turning to Mark after a moment. Nodding, he follows her across the room and they disappear together through a side door. I'm left alone with Mr. White, and all I can hear is the slurping sound of his penis as it thrusts into me, along with his heavy, slightly labored breathing. It's strange, but I feel a little disappointed that Mark and Alice didn't stick around to watch the whole thing, but I suppose Mr. White will report back to them about my performance. Shifting my position a little, I let out a low moan, determined to make sure he knows I'm enjoying myself.

  "You had enough yet?" Mr. White asks breathlessly after a moment.

  "No," I say.

  "You enjoying it?"

  "Yeah," I say, which is kind of true. In fact, it's more true than I'd like to admit. I've always seen myself as a fairly closeted and timid person, but over the past week I've really begun to open up and experience new things. There's a part of me that wants to hate the fact that this stranger is taking me from behind, but I can't deny that I'm getting a definite thrill. I think back to all those times in Bristol when Jess would bring a guy home from the club, and I'd have to use earplugs in order to drown out the sound of their loud love-making. I always used to envy her spirit of adventure, but at the same time I never thought I could do anything like that. Damn it, if Jess could see me right now, she'd be shocked.

  "How about this?" Mr. White asks, suddenly sliding his penis out of my vagina and then pressing the head against my asshole. I take a deep breath as I feel him slowly push his way inside. Closing my eyes, I try to stay calm as he goes deeper and deeper. "You like this?" he asks. "Or do you want me to stop?"

  "Don't stop," I gasp, shocked that I'm actually finding the experience to be pleasurable.

  "You're a girl of surprises," he grunts as he starts fucking me this way. "You look so innocent on the outside, but you've got a wild streak".

  Reaching past my waist, he grabs my right breast with one of his hands, holding it tight. His thrusts are getting harder and harder, and I'm struggling a little to stay in position. For an older guy, he's surprisingly energetic, and I actually start wondering whether his love-making might become a little too potent. As he continues, I start to wonder whether perhaps I'd like him to go back to what he was doing before; then again, if I tell him to stop, I might be deemed to have failed the test. I wait a couple of minutes, as he goes deeper and deeper into my anus, and finally I decide that I'd rather try something else. I gasp as I feel him going even further inside. Part of me wants to keep going, but part of me wants to stop, and I hold my breath as I try to work out what to do next.

  "Fuck!" Mr. White gasps, clearly getting closer and closer to orgasm.

  "Stop!" I say suddenly.

  He immediately stops and I feel him withdraw. I wait for him to say something, but he seems to be just standing in silence behind me. Eventually, realizing I might have just made a huge mistake, I turn to face him.

  Five

  1896

  "The game began in 1720," Lady Red says as we enter a long, dimly-lit room. Over by the far wall, partly hidden in the shadows, there's a large cabinet with thick wooden doors; otherwise, the room is almost completely bare, in stark contrast to the rest of the building. "Most of the details are meticulously recorded," she continues, walking ahead of me, "but there's time for you to go over the dates on another occasion. For now, I shall restrict myself to the pertinent facts".

  Walking over to one of the walls, I look up at one of the room's few examples of ornamentation: a large painting that depicts a distinguished-looking gentleman holding a set of scrolls.

  "That is Benjamin Edgewood," Lady Red continues. "He was the man who began the game. Without his work, neither of us would be standing here today. According to historical records, he was a merchant banker who came to the belief that sex could be the ultimate expression of an individual's strength. He was also a rather enlightened man, to the extent that he believed it would eventually be a woman who would emerge victorious". She pauses for a moment, before removing her mask; to my surprise, she looks tired and a little sad. "You must remember, Mr. Pope, that the early eighteenth century was a time of great moral confusion. All sorts of anarchic groups were springing up across the country, some of them with ideas far stranger than anything Mr. Edgewood ever proposed".

  "Almost two hundred years," I say, staring at the painting. "How can something like this have been going on, hidden from the rest of the world, for so long?"

  "At first, it was mostly luck. Later, the game altered a little so that it would be much harder to detect. By the time of Mr. Edgewood's death in 1751, the game was set in its modern form and it was able to continue with little intervention. He believed he could establish a set of rules that would exist almost like a living organism, evolving naturally to deal with the needs of each passing age. Still, I doubt that even Mr. Edgewood could have predicted quite how things would develop. As the very first Mr. White, he presided over a rather chaotic version of the game, in which many people lost their lives rather needlessly. It was really only later that the second Mr. White, Albert Carrington, refined things so that the game's rougher edges could be tempered. Since then, the game has been a little more calm".

  "You make it sound like it's alive," I say, removing my mask.

  She smiles. "There is so much for you to learn; I'm afraid it's quite hopeless to think you might understand the entirety of the game in just a few hours. It has taken me many years to get to my limited level, and there is still so much that I will never comprehend. The game is so much bigger than any of us, Mr. Pope; I fear we can only seek to understand our roles, and trust that the rest of the game will take care of itself".

  "What's in here?" I ask, walking over to the cabinet.

  "History, mostly," she says.

  "History?" Turning to her, I see for the first time that she is perhaps not the all-powerful, all-knowing figure I had supposed. With her mask removed, she stands before me completely naked, and I sense a new edge of vulnerability, as if she remains part of the game not because she believes in its rules, but because she is scared of
trying to escape.

  "I shall show you sometime," she continues, walking over to me. "The cabinet contains the history of the game, but it also contains the prize, sealed in a small box".

  "The prize?" I ask.

  "No-one knows what it is," she replies. "The box cannot be opened until someone has won. Whatever is in there, it's a secret that awaits the eyes of the winner".

  "For now, you must learn about Mr. Blue. You will be the nineteenth Mr. Blue, and the eighteenth left a great deal to be desired. We must move cautiously, especially now that we have attracted the attention of New Scotland Yard. I cannot yet be certain that the death of Inspector Matthews has resolved that particular issue. In fact, I have been considering the possibility of making substantial changes to the way the game operates, although I have met with resistance in some quarters".

  "From Mr. White?"

  She smiles. "I want to make one thing very clear to you, Mr. Blue. You will never be called upon to actually kill someone. That role is reserved for Mr. White, and Mr. White alone. Although there have been exceptions in the past, I should like to ensure that Mr. Blue is from now on free of such demands. Both Vincent D'Oyly and Edward Lockhart were ultimately inadequate players; I trust that you will prove more adept, and that as such you might remain in the role for some considerable period of time. We need stability. Your role is simply to find the women, discreetly audition them for the game, and then pass on a select few to Mr. White".

  "And what is my reward?" I ask. "What do any of us gain from this?"

  "The chance of freedom," she replies.

  "Can we not be free simply by walking away?"

  "No," she says, with a hint of tears in her eyes. "I am speaking of a kind of freedom that few people ever get to experience. I don't mean the freedom to decide which street to walk down, or which book to read, or where to go for a short holiday. I mean real freedom. Freedom of the mind, Mr. Pope, and freedom of the heart". She pauses for a moment. "I don't know about you, but I would do anything for such a chance".

  "And why do you continue to play the game?" I ask.

  "I have no choice".

  "But if you were given a choice," I continue, "would you still play?"

  "Of course not," she says. "Not after all these years".

  Staring at her, I find myself shocked by this new side of her character. I must confess, I do not yet fully understand what motivates her, but I believe there is more afoot here than mere pleasure. Now that I have allowed her to believe that I am committed to the role of Mr. Blue, I can see that I shall have to take my time and slowly explore the limits of this situation. It might be many weeks, or even months, before I am ready to turn the tables on Lady Red and Mr. White; until then, I must stay undercover, and I must convince them that I wish to play the game on their terms. I must also be careful to ensure that they are not able to trick me.

  "I must be honest with you," I say, choosing my words carefully in an attempt to deflect suspicion, "and admit that I do not fully fathom the scope of the game. Nevertheless, I have seen enough here today to know that I wish to take part. I believe I shall explore the role of Mr. Blue slowly, but ultimately I shall do everything within my power to help us both win the game". I pause, hoping that I have sounded sufficiently convincing. "I mean, I trust that I am to be accepted?"

  With tears running down her cheeks, she smiles broadly; suddenly, and with no warning at all, she steps forward and hugs me, pulling our naked bodies together. "Thank you," she whispers into my ear. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. To have a good, strong man such as yourself in the role of Mr. Blue, is a rare benefit".

  I open my mouth to reply, but I do not know what to say. I have always understood Lady Henrietta deHavilland to be a rather remote and intellectual figure, yet now she seems to be fueled by pure emotion. I must admit that, deep down, I am starting to feel a little sorry for her, as if perhaps she is as much a victim of the game as the girls whose lives have been lost. In some strange way, I am starting to contemplate a new aim: instead of bringing Lady Red and the game crashing down, I could perhaps try to save her from this miserable existence. Then again, such a move would prevent me from claiming Mr. Cavendish's reward, so I had best put these foolish notions out of my mind.

  "I am sorry," she says, pulling away a little. "I did not mean to..." She pauses, her lower lip trembling.

  "What's wrong?" I ask.

  "Nothing".

  "Are you sure?"

  She shakes her head, and I can tell that something is troubling her; she looks down at my lips for a moment, and then she leans closer and kisses me gently on the lips. Her tongue enters my mouth, but a few seconds later she pulls away.

  "Do you always kiss every new Mr. Blue?" I ask.

  "No," she says, a look of shock written across her face. "I make love to them all, but I have never..." She stares at me, before biting her bottom lip. "You must not speak of this to Mr. White," she says. "He is a dangerous man, and it would be better if he believed..."

  I wait for her to answer. "If he believed what?" I ask eventually.

  "I am so, so sorry," she says, turning away. "It would be for the best if we both pretend that none of this ever happened. Lady Red and Mr. Blue must not become emotionally attached. I have allowed myself a moment of weakness, and I would be eternally grateful if you might consider keeping this entire matter between just the two of us". After a moment, she turns back to face me. "You must promise me that you will remain professional at all times. The game does not tolerate such fripperies".

  "My discretion is assured," I say, stunned by the way this encounter has developed.

  "I hope so," she says. "The penalty for breaking the rules of the game is severe".

  We both look over at the door as Mr. White enters the room. Still naked, he has removed his mask and there's a spattering of blood on his chest and shoulders.

  "Did Clarice pass the test?" Lady Red asks him.

  "Nearly," he replies.

  "Nearly is not good enough," Lady Red says, turning to me. "I had high hopes for that girl, but evidently I was mistaken. Still, there is one silver lining in all of this. You can come with us, Mr. Blue, to dispose of the body. Although there is nothing on the matter in the book of rules, I always feel that a new player is only truly part of the group once he has helped us take one of the failed girls down to the river".

  "I thought you told her she could leave?" I say, shocked at the thought of Clarice's death.

  "We didn't say how she'd leave," Mr. White replies.

  "You must help us with the body," Lady Red says.

  "Of course," I reply, realizing that this is something I must do if I'm to maintain the pretense that I'm playing the game. I did not kill Clarice myself, so I feel no guilt in that regard; by helping to dispose of her body, I aim to persuade the others that I am truly taking my role as Mr. Blue seriously. Only when I have fully ingratiated myself into the game, will I be able to gain sufficient information to end this whole charade. For now, I shall indeed have to make them believe that I am one of them.

  Six

  Today

  When Mark and Alice return to the room, I'm sitting on a chair over by the window. Mr. White is writing in a notebook, having said nothing to me for the past few minutes; the atmosphere is strangely tense, and I can already see from the look on Mark's face that there's cause to be concerned. He seems worried, as if he thinks something terrible is about to happen.

  "And how did things go?" Alice asks, smiling.

  "She passed," Mr. White says, not sounding particularly impressed.

  "Is that so?" Alice says, walking over to me. "What a rather splendid development. Did she not demure once?"

  "She asked me to stop, but she immediately corrected herself". He looks over at me. "In other words, she was perfect".

  "There are two ways to fail this test," Alice continues, grinning at me. "The first is to ask Mr. White to stop completely, and the second is to no
t ask him. The only way to pass is to ask him to stop, but to then change your mind. It's in this way that we can tell you were pushed beyond your natural limits, but also that you're strong enough to try again".

  "Huh," I say, somewhat confused.

  Kneeling in front of me, she stares at me with barely-concealed excitement. "This is only the second time in history that we have come so close to having someone win the game, Elly. There is still a long way to go, but so far you have proven to be absolutely wonderful. I'm sorry I ever doubted you".

  "You doubted me?" I ask.

  "Of course," she replies. "I doubt everyone".

  "Okay," I say, my mind spinning. So much has happened tonight, I can't even begin to get it sorted in my head; it's hard to believe that it's just twelve hours since I went to the Castleton Hotel and took the elevator up to Mark's penthouse suite. I was so innocent back then; I'd only had sex with one guy before, and Rob was hardly a great lover. Suddenly I've been thrust into some kind of bizarre situation and, even more shockingly, I seem to be handling it pretty well. Wouldn't most people have run screaming from these people by now?

  "Mr. Blue, you should take her home," Alice says, getting to her feet and walking over to Mr. White. "She needs to rest. My God, the poor girl's only human".

  "Let's go," Mark says, seeming rather annoyed.

  Standing up, I follow him over to the door. It's almost as if my mind has gone completely blank; I have so many questions swirling around, they all seem to have gathered together to form a mass of incomprehension. Added to that, I'm starting to feel completely exhausted, both mentally and physically. Still, pure adrenalin seems to be keeping me going. I feel like I'm in a daze, and any moment I'm going to come to my senses and be horrified by the things I've done tonight. It's weird, but I don't quite feel like I'm myself.

  "I look forward to seeing you again soon, Elly," Alice says. "These are exciting times".

  "Yeah," I mutter, before heading out with Mark. Without speaking to one another, we pass back through the crowded hall, where the party is still in full swing, and eventually we return to the room where we got undressed earlier. Still not saying anything, we get dressed, with Dieter standing guard by the door as usual. It's strange, but I get the impression that Mark isn't necessarily pleased that I passed this particular test; it's almost as if he wanted me to fail.