In Too Deep

by Roxane Beaufort

  'Maybe I'd help you, if you were nice to me,' Jason said, letting Julia out of the cage and walking her up and down, a lead attached to the collar that encased her throat. It was part of his job to see that she was exercised. He had been entrusted with her care, and took his duties seriously. He brought her food, loosened her manacles so she could eat, and emptied the slop-bucket provided as a toilet. He also changed the pile of hay that was her bed.

  'What d'you mean, nice?' Julia asked, though she already guessed the answer. 'And what day is it? What's the time?'

  The hours dragged dreadfully when she was alone down there in the gloom. Grace came in twice a day to check on the rings in Julia's nipples and navel. They were healing well. There had been no sign of Gabor, but Grace had been unable to resist taking advantage of Julia's helplessness. Keeping her chained, she had entered the cage on the first day, and slipped Ben Wa balls into Julia's sex. Then, getting Jason to assist her, she greased a large black dildo and worked it into Julia's bottom.

  'You'll wear these till I come again tomorrow,' she had said and, before departing, stood in front of her, lifted her grey skirt and wanked herself to a noisy climax.

  Julia had been unable to dislodge the foreign bodies inserted into her body. Every time she moved she was aware of the balls stirring in her vagina, and tormented by the enormous plug in her arse. Next day, Grace took it out long enough for Julia to relieve her bowels, watching as she did so, and then inserted an even larger one.

  Yet this constant reminder of her sexual area had another effect; it made Julia randy, but her hands were fastened in such a way that she couldn't touch herself to masturbate. When she wanted to pee she had to stand astride the bucket and let her water flow, and she longed for the removal of the objects that stimulated and stretched her, and longed above all, for a bath.

  'It's Sunday, and,' Jason glanced at the watch strapped round his thick wrist, 'three in the afternoon.' He pressed closer to her, no longer in bondage gear, but wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. His cock and balls seemed even more prominent, though covered. They bulged against his flies, and despite her sorry predicament Julia's fingers itched to curl around that promising package.

  'Did you mean it when you said you could help me?' she asked sweetly, and didn't move away.

  'Sure,' he confirmed, and one of his large hands closed on her bare breast.

  'In what way?' There was no question of pushing him off. She couldn't anyway, given the shortage of chain linking her wrists. 'Could you get a message to my friends?'

  'Maybe.' He planted a wet kiss on her lips.

  'If I give you a phone number, will you ring it?' she asked, breaking the kiss for a moment.

  'I'll try, but I've got to be careful. They'll slit a man's throat as soon as look at him.'

  'Mr Gabor?' She could still hardly credit him with being a murderer.

  'Not himself, but he'll pay others to do it. He wasn't always a businessman. In his early days he was a mercenary. Spent time engaged in warfare in South America, the Middle East, and trouble spots on the Russian border, anywhere he could get rich pickings. He's no stranger to violent death, that's for sure.'

  He said this so matter-of-factly that she went cold. Jason had become brainwashed into accepting this as the norm. The army had started it, and employment by Vincent Gabor had completed the job. Yet he was a sensitive brute. He probably sent his mother a card on her birthday, maybe even flowers.

  So Julia took a chance on him, reeling off Will's mobile number. 'Slow down,' Jason said, and fished in his jeans, pulling out a stub of a pencil and a crumpled till receipt. 'Say again?'

  She repeated it and he printed the numbers, slowly, like a six-year-old. Then he folded the paper and tucked it into his hip pocket, grinning, anticipating his reward. He slackened her manacles and she moved her hand over his bulge. It grew bigger. When she unzipped him his serpent leapt through the gap. She had seen it in bondage, but now, freed from restraint, it displayed its majestic length and generous girth. Fascinated, her clitoris a hot kernel of desire, she took it in her hand. Her fingers didn't meet round it. Jason groaned and moved it through her palm, leaving a sticky trail.

  His hands rested on her shoulders and she felt their steely pressure, obediently sinking to her knees. His crotch was on a level with her mouth now, and she breathed in his body warmth, the musky scent of male genitalia, which no amount of showering entirely erased. Her nose brushed against the tight scrub of pubic curls and she lapped at the long, brown-skinned stem of the cock that reared upwards to his belly. His strawberry-coloured helm gleamed with the emission which tasty salty on her tongue.

  The tip alone distended her lips and filled her mouth and palate so that she had difficulty in sucking him. Its taste and texture were wonderful, and she wanted him to frig her, but he was too engrossed in his own fast approaching climax. She felt his cock's urgent tension, and achieved a result far sooner than she expected. He groaned like a wild beast and she felt the power of his discharge rushing along his shaft. He bucked, growled, and his semen filled her mouth and bespattered her face and, when she recoiled, volleyed over her throat and breasts.

  'Oh, oh... that was wicked,' he panted, laughing in a hoarse vibrato.

  At that moment the vault seemed to explode. Vincent Gabor burst in, followed by a gang of men wearing sleeveless green string vests, khaki trousers and hob-nailed boots. They were young, tanned and muscular, their tops straining over powerful chests, their bare tattooed arms bulging. Grace was with them, also dressed in camouflage, as butch as the rest of them.

  Jason tried to cover up, but not before Gabor had spotted his still large, though rapidly shrinking cock. 'You've been keeping her in training, have you?' he bellowed, and Jason abandoned her, trying to melt into the shadows.

  Gabor seized Julia by the hair, jerking her head back so that she was forced to look up at him. Her face and breasts glistened with Jason's creamy spunk. 'You like a bit of rough?' he asked, and then went on without awaiting her reply. 'Then you shall have it, darling. I can be as rough as you like, and so can my men.' He was dressed like them, though a sweatband confined his hair. He looked scruffy and muddy and stank of fresh sweat. He could have been the leader of a band of mercenaries, and for some reason she found it incredibly sexy.

  He handled her crudely, feeling between her legs. 'How wet you are,' he goaded. 'Grace tells me you've not been allowed to come since she introduced you to her little toys. I think the boys and me can do something about that. We've just completed some intense training, so we're hyped up and looking for a way to release our energies.'

  Grace moved to his side and crudely pulled on the string attached to the Ben Wa balls, and they left Julia's wet sex with a sucking sound. The anal plug was also removed, but before she had time to appreciate the relief, a blindfold was slipped over her eyes and firmly tied, tangling with her hair and plunging her into darkness. She was guided across the stone flags, hearing the clump of heavy boots, the whispered comments. Hands were all over her, dipping between her thighs, fingering her clit and then her nipples. Someone was hauling her along by the leash. The collar tightened round her throat and she was forced to move faster.

  Her knees encountered the edge of the couch and she was pushed down onto it, disoriented by sightlessness, though her remaining senses had become super-sharp. Her chained hands were free momentarily, and then the cuffs were fastened to ringbolts, as she lay there spread-eagled.

  Someone lifted a leg over her head, straddling her face so that a penis dangled close to her face. She could feel its warmth and smell its potent scent as he trailed the tip over her forehead, lips and nose, leaving a wet smear in its wake. It was an alien smell - one of Gabor's hellions, not the man himself. She was certain she would have recognised his personal odour anywhere. He moved off and another cock nuzzled insistently against her lips. She opened them, taking it into her mouth. Two others stood on either side of her and thrust their pricks into her hands. All three plunged and pump
ed, and they came almost simultaneously, Julia bearing the brunt of their eruptions, almost gagging as she swallowed that which filled her mouth. The three men left her abruptly, their place taken by one person only.

  Fingers were opening her, probing vagina and anus and rubbing her clit. The tingle started in the depths of her womb. She was coming, rising, soaring, not caring who or even what was giving her such bliss. Blindness added to the euphoria; her senses centred on the fulcrum of her pleasure. She climaxed, screaming. A man spread her thighs, shoved a hand under the small of her back and lifted her to him, then thrust into her, deep and long and strong. She guessed by the size, shape and the way he did it, that Vincent Gabor possessed her. It was him! She could tell by the odour of spice that clung to his hair.

  He unbound her legs and had her lift them so that her feet were on his shoulders. He withdrew from her, smoothed the tip of his cock up and down between her rear entrance and her sex, and then his huge helm dilated her anus with awful force. The plug had done a lot to make her more receptive, but even so it was chicken feed compared to this mighty violation.

  'V-Vincent,' she gasped. 'Is that you?' She wanted verbal confirmation that it wasn't some ex-squaddie spearing her on the end of his rod.

  He didn't answer, but she was pretty sure it was. It was hardly likely that he'd relinquish his mastery over her and let his troopers plough either of the furrows he'd already made his own. He decided who had her and who didn't. As he had already said, if she pleased those whom he selected, then she pleased him. Obviously his henchmen weren't in the running. They could take her, but only orally or through having her masturbate them. He wasn't sharing her with them totally.

  She felt his hands at the back of her head and the painful tug on her hair as he whipped away the blindfold. Then she looked up into his glinting dark eyes. 'Are you happy now that you know it's me, my Julia?' he whispered, in that fascinating foreign accent that always turned her knees to water.

  'Yes, Mr Gabor,' she murmured.

  'Good, then you shall roll over and present your bottom to me,' and with the deftness of a magician, he released her manacles.

  His soldiers were watching the show, cocks in hand, already wanking themselves to further climaxes. She caught sight of Jason in the shadows and wondered if he'd keep his side of the bargain and phone Will. Grace was staring at Vincent as if he was a god to be worshipped, one hand down the front of her army issue trousers.

  Gabor eased Julia to her knees, her buttocks lifted high, her breasts pressed into the surface, shoulders too, her head to one side, cheek encountering the padding. Vincent was kneeling behind her. She felt his cock pulsing against her anus again. He reached beneath her, working his fingers past her vulva, wetting them in her juice, and then withdrawing before she had time to arch against them. He spread the copious fluid around her forbidden hole, and then entered it.

  The force of it made her want to scream, but she kept silent, rocking against him, relaxing her muscles to make it easier for herself. It didn't hurt so much that way. The butt plugs had helped. Now she was stretched enough to take all of him. Her stripes were eased, too, for he was kneeling upright, his hands gripping her hips, holding her steady as he moved inside her rectum and the fear of his invasion suddenly subsided. Her resistance gave way to desire.

  His arm came round her and he found her sex, drawing the lubrication up to her clitoris and squeezing it. She cried out, orgasm rioting through her. He grunted, pleased with her reaction, then pressed in deeper, his groin welded to her rear. He rode her fiercely, pinching and slapping, and these little stings and hurts were pleasurable, making her melt into him. He was frenzied now, and the sounds he made were blissful to her ears. She knew he was reaching ecstasy. She felt the heat of his spunk as it flooded into the condom, and she trembled as if she had just had another orgasm herself.

  She had expected he might relent, invite her upstairs to cleanse herself and then treat her well, as he had done in the past. He moved away from her and she turned over and sat up, looking at him expectantly.

  He must have seen the entreaty in her eyes, but turned his back on her deliberately. 'Get her back in the cage, Grace,' he barked crisply.

  Then he strode out, leaving her staring at his uncaring back through tear-filled eyes.

  Will took the phone call. It was from someone who wouldn't give his name. 'Julia Jones is at Hazel House. Take care if you go there. You may put her in greater danger.' That was all the stranger said before hanging up.

  Will was for leaping into action, but Arlene advised caution. 'Wait till Theona returns,' she said. 'We need ammunition to use against him. If all I hear about him is true, then he's as cunning as a fox. You won't catch him easily, or rob him of his prey. Julia, in this case.'

  'At least we know where she is.'

  'Then why did someone at Abbey Reach tell you she'd gone abroad? And what did the caller mean about her being in danger?' Arlene poured them two stiff whiskeys: this was time for the hard stuff, not caffeine.

  'I don't know,' Will replied, gloomy again. 'I think I'd better drive out there.'

  Julia's presence seemed to be in every corner of the house. At any moment Arlene expected to see her come bouncing in, chattering animatedly about a man, a news lead, clothes, the latest trends. It was all too quiet without the bubbly girl around.

  'I've done this to her,' she said, on the brink of cracking up. 'I've put her in danger.'

  'Don't blame yourself,' he said. 'If anyone's at fault it's me. I was only thinking of the story it would make for Hi Life.'

  'Why don't you ring Hazel House?' she suggested. 'Just ask to be put through to her. That's an innocent enough request, surely?'

  'You do it,' he said. 'The number's ex-directory, but Julia gave it to me,' and he handed her his address book.

  She dialled the sequence and nodded to him. 'It's ringing.' Then a woman answered, and Arlene adopted a Home Counties drawl, controlling her Irish lilt. 'Hello,' she started. 'I wonder if I could speak to Julia Jones, please?'

  'She's not here,' the woman snapped, her voice cold.

  'Oh? I understood she was staying there,' Arlene persisted.

  'She's away. Gone off on a modelling job in the West Indies.'

  'Well, can you give me the name and number of her hotel there? This is really rather important. A family matter, you see.'

  'Can't help you. Don't ring here again.' And with that the woman slammed down the receiver.

  Will was already out of his chair and making for the door. 'That's it,' he said, 'I'm going out there.'

  'Will, don't!' Arlene cried, but there was no stopping him.

  Chapter 12

  'Come on, you, out of that cage,' Grace commanded, striding into the cellar. Her army gear had been replaced with a black leather suit, cut like a man's. 'You're being moved.'

  As far as Julia could judge, two days had passed since she'd been subjected to the lust of Vincent's men before he re-established possession of her. She rose stiffly, brushing off wisps of straw that clung to her dirty clothing. She could see Jason waiting at the foot of the wooden steps. He'd still been demanding sexual favours for agreeing to phone Will, and told her he'd done so, but she couldn't be sure he was telling the truth.

  'Am I to be set free?' she quavered, tears never far away these days.

  Grace gave a harsh bark of laughter. 'You should be so lucky,' she said, making certain that the chains were firmly attached to Julia's handcuffs. 'No, someone was apprehended in the garden... two men on separate occasions, as a matter of fact. They were both caught by the guards, roughed up a bit, and sent on their way. Nosy, they were, asking about you. Mr Gabor didn't like it, didn't like it at all. He's a very private person when it comes to his personal life.'

  'Where are you taking me?' Julia cried as she was pushed down the steps. 'You can't keep me a prisoner forever. This is ridiculous.'

  Jason got hold of the leash and tugged it. She felt as if she was being throttled by the collar, s
o she stood still, head bowed.

  She wished she was braver; Arlene would have fought, bit and scratched, kneed Grace in the crotch and made a bid for freedom, but Julia was still timid, and her experiences since she'd been in the cellar had subdued her. She longed to ask for a description of the intruders. Could it have been Will or Eugene? If so, then Jason must have kept his promise.

  'Mr Gabor has several hideouts,' Grace informed her. 'No one will find you where you're being taken.'

  'But, why me?' Julia pleaded, desperately playing for time, trying in vain to put off the frightening prospect of being removed, far away from her friends. 'What have I done to hurt you all, apart from know about Marty Blake's dirty work—?'

  Grace slapped her hard across the face, stunning the poor girl and silencing her in an instant. 'Shut up!' she snarled. 'You ask too many questions.'

  Julia was marched to the elevator, whisked up to the ground floor, out through the deserted kitchens and across the cobbled yard. The buildings that had once been stables now housed cars. A gleaming bottle-green Range Rover stood there and Julia was bundled into the back of it. Grace climbed in beside her and tidied her up, placing a fleece around her. She tugged a comb through Julia's matted curls and wiped her tear-streaked face with a cleansing tissue.

  'This is for the benefit of passing cars or curious pedestrians, or even policemen, heaven forbid!' she said acidly, and changed her leather jacket for a weatherproof cagoule and tied a scarf around her head. 'They'll think we're a happy family off to the country. I should have borrowed a spaniel from somewhere to complete the picture.'

  Julia stared, drinking in the scene. It was wonderful to see the sky again, and the blessed, blessed daylight. How awful to be a prisoner serving a life-sentence, she thought; even though she was in such dire straits, at least there was a possibility of escape, slim though it may seem. She was hungry for the everyday sight of people, cars, and the pulsing life all around as Jason drove from Highgate and headed out to the country.