by Noel Amos
The idea of using the boat had been Patsy's and the others had seized on it after some two hours of fruitless suggestions. Of course, thought Sophie, if they really wanted to avoid Danny Fretwork it was the last place they should be. But then, her intention was to lure Danny out into the open and nab him. And Patsy was the bait.
'Pandy showed me this article in yesterday's paper. They've been doing this research on the human orgasm. I didn't know those posh papers were full of so much filth. There's none of that in the ones I read.'
'Huh,' was all Sophie could manage.
'Mind you, it wasn't half interesting. It seems the best a man could do was sixteen comes per session. That's pretty pathetic really, isn't it?'
'Oh, I don't know.' Sophie's mind was suddenly enlivened by the thought of a big fat cock shooting off sixteen times in succession. She could do with a bit of that, she thought, just to wipe herself clean of Pandora's incessant abuses.
'I mean sixteen times compared to a hundred and thirty-four is nothing. Pandora says it demonstrates the inherent superiority of the female response.'
'I bet.'
'I reckon you might do more than a hundred and thirty-four in a session, Sophie. The way you go at it.'
Sophie smiled weakly. The betrayal of her mind by her body was the story of her life.
'Don't get me wrong,' said Patsy, 'I could go a willy any time but Pandora's opened my eyes to a whole new world of sensuality.'
Oh Christ. 'Look, Patsy, I'm going to slip off for a few hours to get some of my things and catch up on a bit of sleep but I'll be back by this evening. All the lads are well set up so there shouldn't be any chance of Danny sneaking by while I'm gone.'
'That's a good idea,' said the third voice as the tall figure of Pandora Britches, dressed in a half-buttoned man's shirt, insinuated herself into the small space. 'Why don't you pop off for a bit and let Patsy and I get on with our work. We've got tons to do, haven't we, darling?'
'I would have thought you were just about finished,' said Sophie as Pandora casually looped an arm around her shoulders. 'Surely the Blizzard has milked everything possible out of Patsy's story by now.'
'Patsy and I have a new project - her life story. We think it'll make a great book.'
'But it's already been done in the papers,' Sophie protested, conscious that Pandora's hand had come to rest on top of her right breast. 'There can't be anything left to say!'
'Nonsense, that's just the tip of the iceberg, isn't it, Patsy? This will be much deeper. I need to probe into the wellsprings of Patsy's life, find out why a woman like her is attracted to the criminal fraternity, discuss it in the context of female subjugation. Besides, Patsy will go down a storm on TV chat shows if she wears one of her tight tops.'
By now Pandora's hand was inside Sophie's own top and sliding purposefully into the cup of her brassiere, prompting the policewoman to say tartly, 'So you're not above a bit of basic sexploitation?'
'You've got to sell your project otherwise your message won't get across. It's the iron fist in the velvet glove. That's why I work for the Blizzard.'
'Really? I thought it was because your uncle owned the paper.'
'Now now, darling.' Pandy's fingers dug into Sophie's right breast, tweaking her nipple painfully. The traitorous flesh swelled to erection immediately.
'Before you go, Sophie, come next door. There's a few things we should discuss.'
Patsy rolled her eyes heavenwards. Sophie began to protest but the words seemed to die on her lips as Pandy's wandering hand now crept downwards into the waistband of her jeans and across her stomach.
'Well, let's make it quick,' Sophie said feebly, allowing herself to be propelled in the direction of Pandy's cabin. She looked back at Patsy who grinned at her waspishly.
'Go for the record, Sophie. A hundred and thirty-five, remember.'
Chapter 28
It had been a long weekend for Billy Dazzle, too. Half of it spent in furious carnal activity with Candy, alternately bonking and posing for her endless sketches until, on Saturday evening, his miraculous erection had collapsed like a punctured balloon. Candy had tucked him up in bed by himself in a cosy room and left him to sleep, waking him only to administer bowls of chicken soup made, so she told him, by her very own cook.
Now, on Monday morning, Billy felt refreshed and full of beans. His pleasure was enhanced by the luxuriant greenery of his surroundings as he sat in Imogen Almond's conservatory and waited for her to join him for breakfast. He had been summoned directly from La Kensington's mansion. After his heroics in Candy's bath and bedrooms it seemed he was back in good odour. And so, he reflected with some satisfaction, he deserved to be.
A door opened behind him and Imogen emerged dressed in a skintight leotard of shiny vermilion and black leggings. Her hair was tied back off her head in a ponytail. She wore no makeup and the colour was high on her cheeks. The tight lycra moulded every contour of her lithe body, compressing the full mounds of her breasts into large concave saucers, emphasising the gentle dome of her stomach and stretching in an enticing vee between her legs clearly delineating the bulge of her pubis. She was breathing hard and her chest rose and fell as she panted. She looked like a wholesome, hearty schoolgirl fresh from a brisk frolic on the playing fields.
'Sorry,' she said, 'I hope they told you I was in the gym.'
'So this is how you keep yourself fit for the rigours of business,' said Billy. 'I'm impressed.'
'You should try it,' said Imogen, grabbing a glass of orange juice from the table. 'Why don't you have a little workout right now?'
Billy began to protest but there was no denying the firm pull of the hand that grasped his and drew him to his feet. For a moment he stood his ground.
'Come on, Billy, some healthy exercise is just what you need.
He followed her out of the door, his eyes glued to the taut lycra stretched across the perfect moons of her trim bottom as she walked ahead of him down a flight of stairs into the bowels of the large house.
Imogen's basement was remarkably well-equipped for a private gymnasium. There were two kinds of exercise bicycle, a rowing machine, a complicated device with rectangular weights for arms and legs and a sound system that filled the room with raucous, breathy rock at the touch of Imogen's elegant finger. She led him to a separate shower and changing room where she rummaged in a cupboard and produced a towel and some sports clothing. She handed them over with a curt instruction to 'get changed'. There was no turning back.
Moments later Billy presented himself in a white sleeveless vest and a skintight pair of egg-yolk yellow leggings that finished just above the knee, hugging his thighs and buttocks, and moulding his cock and balls against his stomach as precisely as vacuum-packed delicacies on offer in a supermarket chill cabinet. Imogen eyed him frankly and he was uncomfortably aware that every bulge and curve of his body was on display - as indeed was hers.
'We'll get you warmed up then,' she announced and immediately broke into an energetic stretching routine to the rhythm of the music. Billy followed her lead, as was obviously expected. Imogen was a stern taskmistress - and a very fit one. Notwithstanding her previous workout, she was eager to expend more energy and she spurred Billy on with a demonstration of testing aerobics, slapping his chest and buttocks, straightening his legs and pulling on his arms and otherwise urging him to put more oomph into his efforts. Billy began to blow hard. In truth he was not much of an athlete. He had the natural strength and energy of youth and was pretty adept at dodging the traffic, running up escalators and shinning down drainpipes. But as for hard physical exercise concentrated over a period of twenty minutes - that was a different story. Already there was a burning stitch in his side and his breath was coming in quick shallow gasps as he strained for air.
He remembered this kind of agony from a time some years distant in his previous life as a City dealer. He had joined the firm's health club in an effort to get to know a female colleague better on the squash court. But Clarissa's danci
ng tits and twitching derriere had remained tantalisingly out of reach, both on the court, where she had left him for dead, and in the shower afterwards - where she had kicked him in the balls and left him writhing with the cold water full on. He had sworn off hearty birds ever since.
By now Imogen had mercifully brought a halt to the physical jerks and he was able to snatch a few deep breaths as she manoeuvred him into the rowing machine. The respite was shortlived. He was soon putting his back into it as required, keen to make as good an impression as possible this side of utter exhaustion. The thought that he might score in the shower this time spurred him on.
Obviously his efforts were paying off, for Imogen was smiling at him as she urged him on.
'That's more like it, Billy. I only have fit, strong workers on my team. Which reminds me, I've got another little job for you.'
Billy cocked a quizzical eyebrow. He couldn't speak. 'Last time we spoke I was impressed that you were able to put your finger on my main problem with the Gala programme - Brick Tempo. He's flying into London tomorrow and I want you to look after him for me.'
Billy's stroke faltered and Imogen laid a hand on his arm and indicated that he could stop.
'I'm putting him up in the flat above the office while he's in London. You'll be staying there too.'
'Christ, Imogen, you're not asking much. He's a legendary hell-raiser. He used to trash hotels with Keith Moon.'
'He's slowed down with age. He's still alive, after all.'
'If half the stories are true then I might not be very soon. Why is he appearing at the Gala anyway?'
'Candy insisted. She lost her virginity to his first hit.'
'Blimey.' Billy pondered this information. 'She must be older than I thought.'
Imogen patted his back, urging him to his feet. 'That's settled then. Excellent. Now I think you need a quick session with the weights and then a shower and a sauna will set you up a treat.'
Her cools hands on his skin - how could they possibly be so cool? - were nectar to his senses as she arranged him horizontally on the most fearsome of the machines - the one with weights at the head and the foot. It had straps, too, which she now buckled tightly, pinning him around the chest and waist. As she fastened the waist strap she turned down the top of his pants to cinch the broad belt tight, pushing the flimsy material down almost to his groin.
At that moment a door opened and Imogen grinned. 'You've turned up just at the right moment,' she said to the new arrival. 'Your victim awaits.'
And the inverted figure of Katie Crisp swam suddenly into Billy's vision. Her severe features gazed down on his captive form with evident satisfaction.
'Well, well,' she said, 'this looks like my lucky day.'
Chapter 29
In the normal course of events Monday morning is undoubtedly the least exciting time of the week. This particular Monday morning was no exception in the lives of the many; in the lives of the few, however, it provided an introduction to activities never before experienced - such as bondage sex.
Billy Dazzle was one such novice, yet another was Patsy Fretwork. At the same time as Billy lay imprisoned in Imogen Almond's aerobic torture chamber, Patsy Fretwork was rendered similarly immobile in the main cabin of the Princess Patsy as she lay at the mercy of her newfound friend and lover, Pandora Britches.
She lay face down along the length of a small wooden bench, her hands and feet bound together with silken cords beneath the seat of the bench, a pillow under her stomach thrusting her naked arse high up in the air, affording Pandora unrestricted access to the most delicate and delightful portions of her anatomy.
Patsy could not see what was being done to her and yet it felt delicious. She could not cry out, for her mouth was stuffed with a rubber bung, yet she did not care. The sensation of being tied down, forced against her will to submit to Pandora's blatant manipulations was unbearably exciting. She felt something hard and solid probing at the lips of her pussy, at the same time something soft and slippery began to circle the tight ring of her arsehole. She forced herself to relax...
Pandy had begun the session by dribbling cool body lotion along the knots of Patsy's spine and into the exposed furrow between her buttocks. Then she had gently smoothed the ointment into her body, easing away her tensions, giving her time to adjust to the notion of being at another's mercy. By the time she had finished, Patsy had been lulled into a sense of security, trusting those strong and gentle hands which had now covered almost every inch of her flesh many times over.
The first slap had been a shock, like being suddenly awakened by being doused in cold water. It didn't exactly hurt, however, and there were kisses and caresses too. More smacks had followed on her upturned buttocks, but not in quick succession, Pandy allowing some seconds, even minutes, between each blow so Patsy could never guess when the next would fall. She found herself perversely looking forward to each stinging assault and the glow which spread afterwards through her flesh, in particular the warmth which was growing ever fiercer between her legs.
By now her cunt was on fire, thrust up and open, the lips quivering in the air begging for attention - and yet Pandora ignored it. Patsy was quaking with desire, aching for the void between her legs to be filled. It was strange. No man had ever made her feel like this. Though she knew this adventure with Pandora was simply an excursion away from the mainstream and her dreams would still be full of stiff and plunging willies, now she gave herself up utterly to the other woman. She would have begged for a cuntal caress if only she could have spoken. The rubber stopper between her teeth, like a great baby's dummy, served only to soothe her as she bit down on it, flinching from the blows on her behind. She thrust her pelvis down but the soft pillow prevented her from gaining any pressure on her aching clit. She strained up into the empty air as far as she could, silently begging for satisfaction.
Then came the bigger slaps, with something hard, maybe a slipper. It made a whistling sound as it descended and a crack as it smacked across both buttocks, causing her whole body to twitch and writhe. She bit down hard on her gag as a moment of fear suddenly penetrated her cocoon. But then Pandora's face swung into her limited vision and smiled at her. She kissed Patsy's brow and soothed the back of her neck in reassurance and then - at last - the journalist had set to work on her cunt.
Now she was in sight of orgasm, with the big hard rod of the dildo insinuated deep inside her pussy and the fluttering featherlike touch of Pandy's fingers on her clit, teasing and titillating. The warm glow from the slaps and spanks she had received had spread throughout her body. From the waist down she was on fire and she knew she would soon come off - coming as she'd never come before, not even with Danny at the height of their passion (thought that had been different, of course). She was completely at the other's mercy and she didn't care. It was out of her control, not her fault - she was guiltless. The pleasure was absolute and once Pandy pushed her over the edge she knew it would go on and on and on and...
Chapter 30
'Steady on,' said the captive Billy as Katie Crisp slotted some evil-looking metal weights into the grooves by his shoulders. 'I'm not used to this sort of exercise, you know.'
'Don't worry, Billy,' said Imogen, reaching for a towel and rubbing her face and neck briskly, 'we know just the kind of physical exertions you like.'
'Eh?'
'Push!' barked Katie and Billy strained obediently against the bar across his chest. The weights struggled up a few inches.
'Harder!' commanded Katie and Billy pushed with all his might, lifting the dead weight upwards.
Imogen had now loosened her hair and was towelling it roughly. Suddenly she slipped one arm out of her leotard and pulled the garment down to dry her armpit. An amazed Billy found himself staring directly at a firm pear-shaped breast which wobbled deliciously as she rubbed.
'Again!' ordered Katie, prompting him to lift once more. He managed it more easily this time, did it without thinking, his gaze fully focused on the shuddering globe of flesh
that rippled enticingly just a few feet away.
Imogen shrugged the other tit free, pulling the leotard down to her waist. She smiled at Billy as she did so, seemingly unconcerned by his open admiration. His view was suddenly blocked by the large and almost naked backside of Katie Crisp as she bent over to adjust the weights by his feet. In his amazement he registered that she, too, had stripped off and was wearing just a pair of scanty panties cut high on the thigh and revealing a rounded expanse of plump bottom flesh.
'Bend your knees,' she ordered. He did as he was told. 'Now straighten them.' And he found himself straining against two levers beneath his feet which acted on the weights she had been arranging. He laboured to please her, his mind in a turmoil, as he took in the half-naked women in front of him.
Katie now stood beside the seated form of Imogen. Her breasts were small and high, the nipples long, pink and, it seemed to Billy, disturbingly erect. Out of her severe solicitor's garb she was more heavily built than he had suspected. Her thighs were strong and full, her hips rounded and curvy, her belly domed and sloping. The mound of her cunt was barely covered by the thin material of her flimsy white briefs and a dark tangled mass of pubic hair sprang out from the gusset. Despite the physical exertions he was enduring he was once more definitively erect.
Imogen patted Katie's near-naked rump and said, 'I think he likes you, darling.'
'I think he likes both of us. But he's the kind of lecherous swine who'd fancy my granny.'
'I still think you should give him the once-over.' Katie nodded and leaned across to place further weights on Billy's two piles. Suddenly he found that he couldn't move a muscle.
'Right,' she said, 'let's check out the equipment.' And she briskly tugged down the top of Billy's shorts, exposing his stiff cock. Slipping her hands between his legs, she casually pulled his balls out into the open. For a moment all three were silent.