“Nah… we had a game, couldn’t go in the end but Ned went. I’m due to meet him now, waiting for Michael, he’s late… how did it go?”
“Fine… fine… err…”
Bleep bleep, a text was coming through; maybe it was Tara, Seb needed to get off the line.
“Err… look, if you see Tara, tell her to call me, will you?”
“She’s hardly likely to call me Seb, she’s in a huff about Maria, but now that’s over I might have a go at getting her back. I’ll call her later, if I get her I’ll pass your message on,” a door bell sounded in the distance. “Ok, look, must go, Michael’s finally here, see ya.”
“Yeah, bye.”
He read his text… sori, runnin late, small problem, sorted, will be there in half an hour…Michael.
Seb put his phone back in his pocket. He should wait for Michael but what the heck, he could do this alone, it was time to catch up with David anyway. If all was innocent and Tara was not there, no harm done, he could have a quick shag and be back in time to meet Michael… perfect!
Chapter Sixty-Three
They’d spent the night in each other’s arms. He’d made love to her over and over. She was completely in his power; she didn’t even mind him placing the bindings on her while they slept, it felt strangely reassuring that he wouldn’t let her go, and that he wanted her so badly. His obsession was potent, hypnotic. She knew he was charming her under his spell, but didn’t care; he’d become her world, her love.
In the back of her mind, she knew the situation was crazy; a fully grown independent woman letting herself be taken over by a relative stranger. But a part of her felt a sense of relief in giving herself up, in relinquishing the pressure of control. She was safe in his hands, he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, he was in love with her, she was his angel.
He provided a wonderful escape from her normal day to day life struggles; he took the burden of decision making. She didn’t have to make choices, fight battles, prove anything to anyone, it was easy, her body and mind were empty.
She was a puppet; she lay back and did as she was told. He fed and washed her, caressed and stroked her, made love to her over and over, through the night, until she was an exhausted quivering mess. He gave her pleasure, not pain.
He lovingly prepared breakfast in bed and fed her like a baby. The tea was drugged to make her sleep but she didn’t mind, he was in charge now, she trusted him. She smiled enjoying the feeling of peace as the drug took hold. His magical hands stroked her head as she fell deeper and deeper into sleep.
“Sleep little one, I’ve work to do, you will be free soon,” he whispered into her ear, waiting for his angel to pass out.
She looked radiant; it was a shame, he would have preferred to keep her longer, but she would be causing police interest soon, he needed to finish the job, strike her off the list and move on.
He’d accomplished the first part of the penance by cracking her spirit; she trusted him, wanted him and above all had begged him. His hours of watching tapes and studying what made her tick had paid off. He controlled her mind; she was an open book to play with.
It was tiring looking after someone 24/7, he needed a break. He would give the gym a miss today, humping up and down on his angel was exercise enough. He fancied some fresh air; he would stretch his legs, buy a paper and have a coffee whilst savouring the thought of her finale.
Checking she was asleep, he gently covered her body in blankets, he didn’t want her to get cold, it would slow the blood on incision. He jumped off the bed and into the shower.
The hot water felt good on his body. He thought about burning the carcass after the dissection, rather than leaving it as a trophy for the police to find. He’d not been using a condom; she was full of his DNA, it was best to burn everything.
He scrubbed hard, erasing her smell. His heart heavy, it was not going to be easy, he loved her.
The doorbell rang out, making him jump. Who the hell could that be? Wrapping a towel around his middle, he ran to Tara, making sure she was still asleep, he pulled the cover over her face and answered the door; it was Seb.
Seb smiled, happy to have caught him wet from the shower, he looked sexy as hell.
“What you up to, stranger? You didn’t call last night, so I thought I’d come and track you down for a coffee… or something..,” he winked suggestively at David’s groin area, and stepped forward to be let in.
“Hmmmm… coffee or cock? Cock or coffee?” mused David, holding his cock through his towel.
“What shall I choose… Hmmmm… it’s a hard one,” he looked down at the bulge in his towel.
“You bet it is,” Seb squeezed his own cock through his jeans.
“Both,” David stood back for Seb to enter.
Seb cheekily skipped into the hallway, taking David’s towel with him as he passed. He ran into the kitchen in search of the kettle.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Josie had not been home for days. She’d been ignoring her phone and was majorly pissing off her agency. Helen had called in on her behalf to say that she was sick, but they were not amused. Her impatient regulars were giving them a hard time. She knew it was risky, she could lose business, a new girl would be shipped in to fill her sessions, and the regulars may end up preferring the new girl to her.
But what the hell, she was having a good time hanging out with Helen, besides she rarely took a holiday, she deserved one.
They’d hardly surfaced from the bedroom in days. Luckily Helen’s fridge and bar were well stocked; they phoned out for pizza, Indian, and Chinese. They spent their time cuddled up, talking, eating, watching dodgy old movies, and discovering the delights of the vagina. They took labia worship to a new level. Helen had taken to peering at Josie’s with a min-flashlight and magnifying glass.
It felt weird to see it from a guy’s angle. All sweet old-fashioned comparisons with flower petals and oysters were true; it was beautiful. Helen wondered why the hell she hadn’t paid much attention to her little pot of gold before; she should have gotten a mirror out and had a bloody good look long ago, see what her lovers see.
Why didn’t women get to know their bodies? Men were more than familiar with their pieces of kit. Vaginas were amazing; they didn’t gag in your throat, shoot in your eye, or give you lock jaw; they were soft, pink, responsive, warm, welcoming pieces of heaven that tasted delish.
In between the vagina worship, they talked and talked, in their own cocooned world. That morning they were playing the truth game (not to be recommended, it always causes trouble), confessing secrets they were ashamed of.
“Well, you now know mine, I finally confessed to you guys I was a hooker,” giggled Josie. “I kept that secret for years, it was awful lyin’ to you guys, wish I’d known you’d love it, ‘el,” she playfully hit her friend, lover… oh my God, Helen is my lover!
“Telling you is the best fing I’ve done in a long time, I swear I was turning to drink wiv the weight of it…”
Josie lay back on the bed, her head propped up by the multitude of colourful cushions adorning it. Helen was going for the sexy harem Arabian night look. But it looked less of a harem and more of a rubbish tip. Chocolate wrappers, biscuit packets, orange peel, beer bottles and magazines lay around their entwined bodies.
“I suppose it’s my turn to confess something; there is something, something so horrible I don’t understand how I could do it…”
Helen turned onto her stomach, perched on elbows, lying alongside Josie. She turned to face her, their bare legs entwined. Helen looked worried.
Josie braced herself… oh gawd, what’s wrong? she thought nervously, not quite sure she wanted to hear Helens confession, maybe the truth game wasn’t such a good idea.
“I’ve been behaving like a complete bitch, Josie,” she took a big breath, “I’ve been stalking T.”
“What do you mean, stalking T, don’t be so silly,” giggled Josie, not understanding her.
“Well, not stalking exactl
y, but I’ve been giving her the nuisance phone calls, leaving disturbing messages on her phone, trying to frighten her. Oh God, I’m so ashamed,” tears welled; she held her face in her hands.
“I don’t know why, I love her, truly I do, but I can’t help it… I must be sick, deranged.”
“Oh ‘el, that’s not so bad, it must be a joke or sumfing. Don’t get upset, you were only playin’ wiv ’er,” Josie tried to console her, confused, not understanding what her friend was saying.
“No, it’s no joke. I really wanted to hurt her, frighten her. I even scratched stuff on her car… and Franco’s car,” Helen bowed her head in shame, tears trickled her cheek.
“Why baby?” asked Josie softly as she stroked Helen’s head, still not used to the idea of being this close to her.
“I don’t know, jealousy, I guess. T has bloody everything, looks, a job, she’s bright, everyone adores her, including Seb; it gets on my nerves… yet…”
She grabbed a tissue and hurriedly wiped her eyes.
“…I would die if I lost her as a friend. It’s weird; I love her and hate her, what craziness is that, Josie?” she blew her nose, and continued.
“I don’t deserve her friendship. I’m so ashamed. It’s bloody stupid of me… when she tells the police, they will trace the calls to me. I don’t know why I did it and I don’t know what to do…”
Chapter Sixty-Five
The kettle hadn’t even begun to boil and Seb was on his knees in the kitchen. He’d arrived not 20 seconds earlier, gone to the kitchen to make coffee, was plugging in the kettle when the naked David followed up behind and pushed him down onto his knees.
“Suck on this, boy… it’s what you came for, isn’t it?” David snarled, loving the power over Seb, the fact that Tara was lying a few feet away added to the thrill.
He looked down at Seb’s bobbing head, expertly carrying out his instruction with one hand and furiously wanking his own cock with the other.
For a beginner, Seb was a fast learner, catching up on all those lost years, no doubt. It was a shame that he would also have to go, but he was on the list.
“Jeeeezzz, that is so good, boy,” David threw back his head relishing the excitement building in his cock. “Don’t stop, boy… don’t stop!”
He sounded like his Headmaster, his voice taking on a craggy, old tone; no wonder the old boy had loved this so much. The memory was too much, he let out a loud moan of pleasure, fell back onto the kitchen units, and started to explode.
Seb joined him… short, sharp, satisfying oral… bloody fantastic.
They remained where they were as their bodies calmed down, Seb kneeling on the floor and David leaning back against the units, a big grin, cock in hand, surveying the scene.
The silence after their noisy groans of pleasure was awkward for Seb; he still had not gotten used to the unashamed debauchery; his Catholic upbringing shot guilt through him.
Suddenly uncomfortable, he stood up, zipped up his fly, wiped his hands on the towel he’d stolen earlier, and politely handed it back to David.
The kettle clicked to the boil, breaking the ice.
“Coffee, David?” Seb asked, as if nothing had happened, unable to look him in the eye.
“Yeah, great… back in a min, I’m gonna put some clothes on boy,” he chucked the towel over his shoulder and sashayed out of the room.
Seb watched him, David was something else, he had the power to invoke shame and excitement in the same moment. To make you feel like cheap trash or precious cargo. When he flashed one of his smiles you were lost, he was irresistible.
Reluctantly remembering what he was there for, he quickly made two coffees whilst glancing around the flat for any sign of Tara. There was nothing obvious.
One thing that did catch his eye was a bottle standing by the sink… a baby’s bottle, what the hell is that for… maybe for one of David’s more interesting games! Seb quivered… he’s not putting that up me ass!
Picking up the two coffees, he quietly tiptoed through the living room down the hallway. He sneaked past the bedroom door and on to the den, careful not to spill the steaming coffee. The door was ajar, he poked his head around it and tried to see into the room, the light was dim, it took a while to focus.
On the wall in front of him, he saw photographs of what looked like an old man lying in a forest, with close-ups of objects he couldn’t quite make out. He didn’t have much time, so he moved his focus on to the next wall. With a jolt, he realized it was a shrine to Tara, pictures of her littered the wall. She was in all sorts of positions and places, with friends, lovers and alone.
Seb’s stomach flipped, this was not good. Michael was right, his heart sank… trust me to give my virginity to a bloody nutter, he groaned. He heard the noise of a cupboard being closed in the bedroom, his hands shook, coffee spilt to the ground.
“Fuck!” he cursed under his breath.
Fear crept up on him as Michael’s words resonated… shyte! what the hell is David capable of?
He summoned courage and walked back down the hallway, performed a polite little cough outside David’s bedroom door and barged into the bedroom, kicking the door open with his boot.
“Coffee is served, Sir… white with no sugar, just as Sir likes it.”
He put on the mock voice of a posh waiter, looking as innocent as he could, stepping bravely into the room, not quite sure what he was looking for, or what to do next.
Finding David leaning into a wardrobe, he smiled at him brightly and held out the coffee mug.
“Sorry, it’s instant, can’t be bothered with all that grinding of beans, shit… it takes forever.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a mound in the bed covered with a blanket. He pretended not to notice it and threw himself onto the chaise lounge at the end of the bed, ready to watch David get dressed.
“What you doing today then, lover boy?” he asked cheekily, hoping the shaking in his voice couldn’t be heard.
David stood slowly up to full height and bore down on him.
“What the FUCK do you think you are doing in here? I didn’t invite you, GET OUT!” he screamed, pointing at the door.
David’s eyes darted nervously to the bed; Tara was sleeping, covered completely by a blanket, the bed so messy that you couldn’t tell she was there. A quick glance round showed no betraying female clothing lying on the floor.
Seb jumped, “ok, ok… keep your hair on, what’s got into you?”
“GET OUT, NOW!” David knew he was overacting, but he couldn’t take the chance of Tara moving and giving the game away; he had to get Seb out of there fast.
“This is my private space; I didn’t ask you in here, it’s time you left anyway. You’ve had cock and I’m busy… take your disgusting coffee with you. I don’t do instant; it’s for the cleaning lady you moron.”
He chucked the mug back at the rapidly retreating Seb, spilling it as he did so. Seb backed out of the room, not before noticing strange ties at the end of the bed as he pulled the door shut behind him.
What the hell was wrong with David, he was furious, badly shaken. He’d obviously touched a nerve. What was the mound in the bed? If it was a person, it didn’t move; it was either dead, out of it, or just his imagination.
Running down the hallway, he should’ve just put the mugs down on the hallway table and gone out the front door, but good manners had him instinctively going back to the kitchen to find the dishwasher, it also gave him time to think.
“All right, bloody hell, David, relax, I’m going. Jeez, you got PMS or something?” he shouted from the kitchen, David still in the bedroom getting dressed.
Opening the dishwasher, he chucked the unwanted coffee down the sink and placed the mugs neatly on the top shelf. He noticed place settings for two had already been stashed in the machine; they looked as if they had been from a meal from the night before. Two red wine stained glasses and two plates, knives, and forks. Dinner á deux, who had he been entertaining last night?
His stomach tightened, could it be Tara, she’s an avid red wine drinker… nah, so is half the country, stupid… where the fuck is she? On a hunch he pulled out his phone and called her number for the hundredth time, but what the hell.
While waiting for her to miraculously pick up, a buzzing sound came from a cupboard above the sink. Absent mindedly he opened the cupboard to see where the noise was coming from, one hand holding the ringing phone to his ear and one eye on the corridor waiting for David to reappear.
Reaching into the cupboard, he could see nothing but cans of chopped tomatoes, jars of sauces and packets of herbs. The sound became louder; it was almost a vibrating sound now.
Pushing the cans aside, he reached in to the back of the cupboard. His hand fell on a solid piece of plastic that had a life of its own. He retreated with shock, then reached in and pulled it out. It was a phone; all lit up like a mini spaceship. It was ringing on vibrate, with the words ‘Seb Maloney’ written on the screen as an incoming call.
“Holy shit,” Seb cursed under his breath, it was Tara’s phone. “Oh my God!”
Staring at it as it flashed in his hand, the seriousness of the situation hit him. What should he do? Was she in the bedroom? Should he storm in there and get her out? Should he get Michael and come back mob handed? If he was honest, he was frightened of David; he could hold his own in a rugby scrum but he was not sure he could handle David single-handed. He needed help. He put the phone back as it was, lined the cans in front of it and closed the cupboard.
At that moment, David came out of the bedroom, fully dressed in black jeans and black polo jumper, his hair neatly combed. Seb jumped nervously, pretending to be closing the dishwasher.
“Ok, ok, I’m gone, give me a call when you’ve calmed down,” he said, sounding as pissed off as he could muster. “You’re a shit, David, do you know that… fuck you!”
Saying nothing, David held the front door open as a sign for his guest to leave. He monitored Seb’s eyes as he walked by, to see if he was suspicious… no, just pissed off at being rejected, spoiled little brat.
The Penance List Page 34