'So, are you wet, precious?' Although I had lubricant in my bag I was pretty sure I wouldn't need it.
'It's like Niagara falls down there,' she responded dryly. 'Do your worst.'
I dipped the tip of my bright purple vibrator inside her to make sure. 'Ahh. How right you are.' Pumping the vibrator gently up and down a couple of times I relished each tiny moan and whimper she made. All these sounds were music to my ears. I'd have preferred passionate screaming, of course, but we were working up to that again. Inch by delicate inch.
Turning the vibrator to a low setting, I began to slide it up and down her G-spot. With the fingers of my other hand I coaxed her clitoris to life, not that it needed much encouraging. The girl was hungry for pleasure, but I was going to exceed her expectations. Exceed, smash, and blow those expectations into outer space, in fact. I was here to get a job done, and if I came away without answers Mark would never let me live it down. I frowned. It was time to get nasty.
Ten orgasms later, equally divided between her clitoris and G-spot, had Marianna squealing like a stuck pig. She could barely suck in enough air to breathe, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. She'd been doing lots of glorious screaming at the top of her lungs, and she'd also been dancing on her tiptoes in order to get away from either the vibrator or me, or possibly both.
'So, is it time for another G-spot climax?' I asked cheerfully with a perfectly straight face.
Her wail of horror could be heard halfway across the neighbourhood. It was an adorable sound. If I was at home I would have recorded it and played it back to her on loop. Unfortunately we weren't, so I'd just have to make her scream again.
'Yes. If my calculations are correct we're going for G-spot number six.' My calculations were correct; I was very careful about these things. That's what happened when you worked with drugs for a living.
Teasing the vibrator once, twice, then three times upon her swollen, abused, and bright red clit, I began to tickle her entrance with the tip of the rabbit, on the lowest setting. There was another pitiful wail and it seemed we were right on track. Gently sliding it back inside her, I set to work.
You see, the trick with forced orgasms is to wear them down slowly, and you need to be gentle if you want to get a decent number of orgasms. If I went too hard and too fast I'd murder her clit, which would go numb and then she'd take forever to hit the big O. If I went slow and upped the intensity in smaller increments I'd get a much better show. Truth be told, we were nearing the end of what she'd be able to take, but I was going to work her until she had nothing left to give. Well, nothing left except the answers I wanted.
Stroking her G-spot carefully, over and over, in exactly the right position, it didn't take me long to reduce her to tears.
'I can't take another one. Please stop. I can't bear it any more. Can't you just pull my fingernails out?' All this and more came in shuddering, sobbing gasps from her lips, but I didn't let up, not even for a moment. I wasn't going to stop until she told me something interesting, and if needed I could keep this up all night. Actually, I was having the most fun I'd had in ages. Memo to me: I must torture beautiful girls on a regular basis.
I stopped for a second. I'm a bit of a softy with tears, believe it or not. 'Have you caught your breath yet?' I asked amiably.
'No,' she replied miserably, sucking in air like a dying woman. Through the tears I guessed it was getting pretty hard to breathe. Oh well.
'Too bad,' I said, and picked up straight where I left off. This time we were getting somewhere. There was begging, pleading, hiccupping, punching, kicking and swearing. Thankfully the punching and kicking didn't amount to much, as she was in solid steel cuffs, but my ears were burning with the variety of cuss words that were coming out of her mouth. Someone really needed to take the woman over their lap and show her how to behave like a lady. It was a job I wouldn't have minded tackling myself, but some other time, perhaps.
'Are you ready to talk yet?' I asked for about the tenth time. I didn't have any real hopes of an answer, but I'd wear her down eventually. Pressing down a little harder over her sensitive spot, she let out a desperate sob, but there were no further words forthcoming. Oh well, orgasm number twelve was coming her way.
Unbelievably she finally broke on number eighteen. That was unheard of. I mean, I hadn't really tested the theory, nor did I make a living out of torturing women, but eighteen orgasms in a single session? My arm was nearly dropping off! I don't know who was more relieved when she finally yelled, 'I'll talk!' but it was a close run thing.
'Marvellous, off you go.' I desperately wanted a drink, which would unfortunately need to be non-alcoholic, but I wasn't going to spoil the mood. I wanted her to start talking immediately, before she changed her mind. If she decided to back track on me I had no idea what I'd try next. Maybe I'd have to resort to pulling out fingernails after all.
Marianna turned to face me, and I think I got lost in those turbulent green eyes for a second. When she asked me a question I had to blink a couple of times before the simple words finally made sense.
'How long have you known Mark?'
'Hang on a minute, lady,' I said. 'I thought I was the one asking the questions? Rolling my eyes I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. Why was nothing ever easy?
'Well, I'm just trying to work out how much you know about him.'
'I know enough. Trust me.' Eyeballing her, I waited patiently for this conversation to continue.
'So I'll start from the beginning. But just so you know, if the man in question finds me and dices me up into tiny little pieces for spilling the beans, which he threatened to do several times, you'll have my death on your conscience.'
I rolled my eyes again, leaned over her, and tightened each of the clamps on her nipples until I had her gasping. 'Let's not mess about, precious. I'm losing patience.'
'Fine, but you'll regret this. The man's an utter, conscienceless bastard and if he finds out I've told you anything you'll wish you were dead. I've seen what he's capable of and it's not pretty.'
'I'm waiting,' I said with a bored air, tapping my fingernails against the wall. There was a long pause.
'Well, I don't actually know his name.'
'You're fucking kidding me. Do I have complete twat tattooed across my forehead or something?'
Marianna suddenly went very pale. 'Honestly, I don't. He contacted me by telephone to outline what he wanted and then offered to wire two million to my bank account upon completion.' She then frowned.
'He didn't pay up? Gosh, there's a surprise, he must have seen you coming.' I raised my eyebrows in question and waited for her to confirm what I suspected.
'No,' she whispered.
'And you trusted him? Hell, woman, you must watch movies. You always ask for half upfront.' I shook my head and rolled my eyes at the same time. Please tell me the woman couldn't have been that stupid.
'Actually, no. I don't have time for movies, and in any case, I was desperate. I didn't think it through and I paid the price.
'What the hell were you desperate for? An all-inclusive holiday to the Caribbean and some designer rags? Or had you just run out of nail varnish?' Sarcasm dripped from my tongue. I'd seen her type before and I knew exactly how they worked. I felt utterly disgusted by her greed, but thankfully far more focused now. I could probably work her over with a great deal more enthusiasm after hearing that, and I wouldn't feel half so bad about it either.
'Are you going to tell me what I need to know, Marianna? Half-baked tales aren't going to wash with me. If you want your toenails pulled out you're going the right way about it.'
'But I don't know anything,' she wailed pitifully.
'That's what they all say,' I sighed. 'Clearly I haven't given you enough of an incentive to talk. That can easily be remedied, I think.' I began to rummage about in my holdall again.
'What are you going to do now?' she moaned while craning her neck to try and see what I was after.
'You'll find out soon enough, swe
etheart, and I promise you won't like it.' Finding what I wanted I held it aloft and smiled evilly.
Marianna looked aghast, which was quite satisfying to behold, before she then went very pale. At least this threat felt like it had some weight behind it.
Chapter Seventeen - Jennifer
My body felt like lead and there were waves of nausea that flowed through me, making me feel as if was being tossed around in a very small boat at the mercy of a mighty ocean storm. Even though I was lying flat the world began to spin all around me and it seemed like I had the world's biggest hangover. Claw hammers and knives were attacking my skull and I wasn't sure if they were banging or slicing. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Needless to say, I had felt better.
To make matters worse, my eyes felt as if they'd been sealed together with superglue. Prising them apart seemed almost impossible, and the bright light all around me was blinding. It felt as though I'd been in a deep dark hole for days, and trying to get back to the surface was an effort in sheer willpower and determination.
Seriously, if this was heaven they needed to work on their welcome greeting. Mind you, I probably hadn't done an awful lot to qualify for the harps and angels. Fine. If this was hell, they needed to draw the drapes shut and light some fires. It wasn't that warm in here.
My eyes kept flickering, the retinas shifting rapidly behind my shuttered lids. For some reason I felt like I was being pushed to open my eyes. Oh God, if this was heaven they were going to chuck me out almost as soon as they'd let me in. My lips were already mouthing swear words as the pounding in my head increased, and all I wanted to do was let my head retreat back to the nothingness of before. There was no pain there, and it was nice and dark. It was not to be. The urgent pushing inside my head finally managed to have my eyes flutter open for a brief moment, but they closed in pain almost as quickly, though they desperately wanted to stay open.
Now I knew I was in heaven. I was sure I'd just seen my mum, sitting on the chair beside my bed, staring into space. I could feel her warm hand on my arm, her fingers gently stroking me. Two emotions washed over me all at once. The first was an outpouring of love and gratitude that someone had given me the opportunity to lay my eyes on my mother once more. As a child I had often wondered if I'd be able to remember her if I ever saw her again, but it was amazing how much of her I remembered. She hadn't changed very much. There were a few lines and wrinkles that hadn't been there before, and her hair was much shorter, but she looked so much like me it was startling. Immediately I wanted to cry but I didn't seem to have the energy or the necessary fluids in order to carry out that wish. It was just as well. In the next instant I felt utter fury that she could have abandoned me all those years ago, and suddenly, with no warning, re-enter my life and play the doting parent. How dare she! I wasn't some little toy she could play with whenever it suited her. Wanting to yell out some of the hurt I was feeling, but having no energy to do so, I almost missed the start of her voice. It was so soft, almost a whisper really, but I managed to hear it.
'How could Michael force you into marriage? What was he thinking?'
Another flicker of my eyelashes, but my eyes refused to open. I felt a thick fog begin to creep inside my head, and I was tired, so damn tired. What the hell was wrong with me? Where was I? Why did I feel so awful?
'Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take care of this.' There was a small sigh and the sound of tapping feet. 'Getting rid of your husband should be easy enough. He can simply have an "accident".'
Sleep was coming for me. The effort of staying awake was more than my body could bear right now, but I heard the emphasis my mother put on the word 'accident' and my blood went cold.
'I'll probably deal with Michael the old-fashioned way, but I'll make sure he'll live through the ordeal. That should square up the odds, shouldn't it, Jen?'
No! No, you cannot kill my husband, I wanted to scream, but the thought whirled around my head as if it were being sucked into a vortex. I was slipping away again and there was nothing I could do about it.
'Everything will be so much better when you wake up, you'll see.'
That was the last thing I heard before I was sucked back to the place where nothing mattered any more.
Chapter Eighteen - Mark
Breath play game number three was a little more intense than the previous one, but thankfully there were no bubbles involved. The witches had given me a little time to get my breathing back under control, which was jolly decent of them. At least I would begin the second stint more lucid than not, although that wasn't necessarily a good thing.
When someone sat down beside me and picked up my rubber hose I guessed something else was being attached in its place. As I couldn't see, all I could do was wait for the inevitable. I was so close to that Cat that I could almost taste it, so I refused to fall at the last hurdle, unless they decided to start cutting me open wide, and I wouldn't put it past them.
'Pet, are you ready to hear the rules of the game?' Sophia had her hand on my arm, and it looked as if my brief respite was over. It was just as well. I needed things to focus on right now. Nodding my head to confirm that I was, I braced myself for the worst.
'Okay. Listen up. We've attached a rebreather bag to your hose, and it will inflate when you exhale. You need to squeeze it between your legs in order to breathe, so I suggest you set your feet on the floor with your knees at a forty-five degree angle, and we'll place the bag between them. The signal to stop will remain the same. All you need to do is bang your feet once. Nod if you're ready to begin.'
Sometimes it surprises me just how much of a masochist I can be. Nodding away, I felt the bag squeezed between my now upright knees and took my first breath. It wasn't so bad. Breathe out, squeeze and breath in, wait for the bag to re-inflate and then repeat. It was never going to be that easy, but in principle I could work with it.
The fingers began in earnest, of course, although I knew they wouldn't let me come. You did ask for this, I reminded myself sternly, but it made no difference. My body was now screaming out for release and not one of those women out there would take pity on me. I could probably have staked my life on the fact. Once again I was taken over and over again to the point of no return, and somehow those witches knew exactly when to stop, and when to begin again in earnest.
My breathing was fine for about the first thirty seconds of the game. After that it was all over the place. I gulped as much air as I could when I remembered to squeeze the bag, and that was a lot less often than I would have liked. The fingers were more creative this time, too. Although no one went down on me with their mouths, they had managed to unearth some very interesting toys. Oh, what I wouldn't have given for the use of my eyes! My cock was receiving vibrations, pulsations, sucking sensations, and a whole load of lube - not that I needed any. My cock was steadily weeping pre-cum and couldn't figure out why it was being so horribly abused. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to be the bottom, and though I could honestly say this was something I would never do again (not under Sophia, at any rate), there were parts of me that enjoyed the subjugation. That gave me a thought. What if I offered Jen the chance to even up the score when she woke up? Would that go some way towards helping her to forgive me? I was fully prepared to do so. All that and more, if necessary. Whilst Jennifer might not be quite as experienced as these ladies, it would be fun to find out what she was capable of now and again. Mind you, I'd need to make it clear that I would normally be the one holding the whip. The thought of dominating her made me instantly hard and I severely hoped I hadn't choked her off the lifestyle for good. BDSM was the way I was wired, sexually, and whilst I suspected I could give it up for the right person, it would be a very hard sacrifice to bear.
Trying to suck in air, only to find I couldn't, I realised I hadn't squeezed the damn bag. I then floundered and dropped the thing. Immediately going into panic mode I wondered if any of them would notice, so I held my legs up and got ready to bang down hard on the floor.
'It's okay,
pet. Put your feet down again and we'll give you the bag back. Remember to concentrate,' Sophia said sternly. Easy for you to say, I thought, but I did as I was told.
I have no idea how many times I was brought to the brink of orgasm, dropped the damn bag, forgot to breathe and tried to plead for release through the echoing confines of a rubber hose. My balls were crushed, my cock caressed, stretched and bitten, and my body used as a general playground for their amusement. Time seemed to melt into an endless river of intense arousal and pitiful suffering. Finally, when I was too exhausted to move, the bag dropped for a final time and my legs shook so badly there was no way I could press them together in order to breathe.
'Enough. We will take a brief recess and then reconvene for the whipping in twenty minutes, if my pet is willing.' Sophia clapped her hands and I could hear the sound of slowly receding feet, but everything was hazy and I felt like I was drunk. Black spots danced across my retinas and I was desperately trying to get my feet in the air in order to stamp them down as hard as I could. It took me a good few seconds to realise I didn't need to now, because Sophia had removed the bag and was now beginning to remove my mask.
It took her a good few minutes to get me out of the elaborate get up I wore, mostly because I couldn't fully cooperate with her. All I wanted to do was fall asleep. It would take another ten minutes or so before the level of oxygen in my blood recovered enough for me to move normally. During this time Sophia was basically telling me what an absolute idiot I was being, and that if I played this recklessly in my business dealings I would probably be broke by now. She had a point and as I listened to her tirade I began to wonder if she'd send me packing before the big finale. She had every right to. Normally I would never have let things get out of hand like this, but tonight I needed to lose myself. Yes, I was being reckless and stupid, and if Jennifer recovered and I managed to kill myself all this goddam guilt would be for naught. My eyes glazed over. Please bring her back to me, I silently pleaded over and over again. Repeating the words as a kind of mantra, I hoped that if I said them enough they might come true.
The Velvet Caress Page 14
