by Arwen Jayne
Simon relaxed, looking greatly relieved. “Thank you, I am honoured you would accept me, even want me. Although I admit I knew of your fantasies. They’ve invaded my dreams a time or to.” He embraced Arion, drawing him into a passionate kiss, both melting into each other. When he finally pulled away for breath he held out his hand to Arion and led him to the back of the car.
Tyra had casually undressed while watching their negotiation. She was glad Arion had accepted Simon. She trusted Simon with her very soul and knew he’d take care of her lover. Watching them walk away she knew it was time to get herself arranged to best effect. Just the thought of Thex’s large cock and what it might do to her already had her squirming. She leaned on the cool of the metal bonnet and tried not to shiver from the cold of the night.
Thex’s hand stilled against her back and gave her the warmth she needed. “I’ve been wanting to test this bonnet out, ever since Upal got at it. I knew it had potential.”
She listened to the rustle as he dispensed with his pants. His firm flesh was suddenly there, pressing against her need. She wanted that firm flesh driving into her. “Now, Thex. Please, Sir.”
“You don’t need to Sir me Tyra.” He lightly tapped the inside edge of heel, not so subtly suggesting she spread her legs further. “Just yield to me Tyra, let me in. Let me all the way in.” And then he thrust. In one smooth movement he was in, sheathed within her. “I love you Tyra, I always have and I always will.”
“You too ay?” Tyra remembered Simon’s words from earlier in the evening. She pushed back against him taking him deeper into her being. “Don’t hold back Thex. You know you won’t hurt me.”
Thex was beginning to struggle to find words as his body’s instincts took control. “You want it long, deep and pounding fast?”
“Oh yeah, hell yeah.” Her brain disengaged as he started to find his rhythm, gradually speeding it up until she felt like she was melting. The car beneath her was her only support as he hammered into her long and hard and oh so good. Her consciousness found its spaciousness and she let her mind, that had become sex hazed mush, dissolve into it. There was no boundary. Only her and Thex. They were the whole world. Her consciousness expanded further and then she touched the essence that was Arion and Simon. Simon holding Arion face down on the back hood of the car his right hand firmly grasped around the back of Arion’s neck as he drove into him. She felt herself merge with Arion. She felt what he was feeling, the sheer brazen lust of being taken by another man, the trust but also a deep abiding love for the man who had cared for his trapped soul over the millennia. A man who couldn’t free him but who had seeded his prison cave with crystal that would connect him with the outside world and keep him company. She felt Arion merge with her, feeling Thex’s relentless pistoning into her deepest cavern. What was happening to Arion and what was happening to her was a blur as Thex and Simon synced. A vast light seemed to open up with the space which was now all of them as one heart. That light began to pulse. It was like breath, life itself. She felt it expand within her forcing her to yield the last vestiges of her ego identity. On some level she was vaguely aware they were all about to explode and she didn’t care. From within her depths a great scream ripped through her as the explosion of limitless love, lust and ecstasy took them. Then everything went rainbow colored before dissolving into white...
11
The walls of the hotel throbbed to the beat of the music. Kit and Helena merged with the crowd, slowly navigating to a door at the back or the main room. The bouncer in front of it crossed his arms and stared. “Where do you think you two ladies are going?”
Kit held up an ID card. “To the underground. Your mistress is expecting us. Kitsune Abe and Helena Ivanova.”
The bouncer relaxed his guard. “Ah, the shibari master and the Russian dungeon monitor. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome” He opened the door to them.
Helena was curious about their closed door policy. “Fairly careful about who they let in here then?”
“They have to be. The authorities are very sensitive to any bad press. Officially this isn’t even a business, just a club for like minded people. Since it’s only a group of people meeting together they leave the club alone as long as nothing criminal goes down. The hotel above provides the venue and plenty of noise to cover any we make below. There’s plenty of goth types clad in black and leather upstairs so a few more extremely clad clientele passing through doesn’t attract too much attention. Nothing’s advertised, its all done through social networking, SMS and word of mouth, personal introductions and the like. You don’t get in here unless someone vouches for you. They can’t risk slime ball sex offenders coming in here, doing something that might attract the attention of the police.”
“Amazing, in Russia the mob just pays off the authorities and we run it openly as a business.”
“Yeah, well that doesn’t go over too well Down Under. That’s not to say there wasn’t corruption once. Historically corruption started with the ‘rum corps’, the illicit alcohol trade during the convict era when the English first settled here in 1790. The colony wasn’t a popular posting. The army stationed here was mostly made up of underpaid troublemakers. The officers used their position to buy up all the imported rum and trade it for favors, goods and work. It fostered a culture of corruption. But that was a long time ago, in the main its been rigorously cleaned up. The club members here really do have to be good law abiding citizens.”
A buxom brunette in red leather greeted them at the bottom of the stars. “Kit, glad you could make it.” She gave a little Japanese style bow to Kit and then offered her hand to Helena. “I hope we can make your stay with us a memorable one. I’ve arranged for the hotel upstairs to give you a room for the night. Consider it on the house, I owe you Kit.”
“I am honored but...”
“No buts, I insist.”
“Thanks Sheila, you’re too kind. Is there a dungeon available for us?”
“I’ve booked one for you but...” Sheila looked awkward for a moment, almost guilty. “I was wondering if you might do a Shibari demonstration in the main arena before you go off to enjoy yourselves.”
Kit bowed graciously. The Japanese aesthetic art of tying people in silken ropes was an art few mastered outside her homeland. It was natural they would want a demonstration of the artform. “How could I refuse? Lead the way.”
Since one of Helena’s incentives in coming here was to learn some of Kit’s shibari techniques she didn’t mind the delay. It would also give her a chance to take in more of the sights down here. The people here were exotically different to those who frequented the lifestyle back home. These obviously weren’t an elite of bored merchants, wealthy enough to pay the Mafia’s entrance fee. The people here were of all shapes and sizes. They didn’t seem to have any hangups about strutting their stuff in their skimpy black leather outfits, collars and chains. The atmosphere was friendly. It really was a club. Helena turned to Sheila. “Kit might need a model to practise on.”
“Ah, yes, you’re not a sub are you. Well I think I have someone who would be keen to help. I’ll go get her.”
Once they were in the main demonstration area one of the bouncers brought Kit a box of some of the clubs finest silk ropes. Kit handled them and seemed pleased. “These will do fine, thank you.”
Sheila returned with an elegant, completely naked tall dark skinned woman with long black braided hair and coal black ebony eyes in tow. When they reached Kit the woman knelt before her, back straight, head slightly lowered, eyes averted.
Kit walked around the woman appraising her. “You’ll do very nicely. What’s your name.”
“Sathi Rupasinghe Mistress.”
“She’s my business manager and bloody good at it if I might say.” Sheila explained. “Do you mind if I explain a little of your background Sathi?”
“No, not at all boss. I’d rather not have to talk about it myself. Brings the damn tears on if I try.”
Patting Sathi affection
ately on her shoulder she explained. “Sathi’s originally from Sri Lanka. Couldn’t afford the dangerous boat trip out here so when she was offered a way to work here she took it. Unfortunately the creeps who conned her didn’t really explain what the work was. One of our members met her at the brothel where she was indentured to work for the next ten years. We paid them off, sponsored her and got her citizenship. She’s been with me ever since. Sathi’s quiet and gentle but curious about your techniques. She would prefer it if you refrained from anything overtly sexual though. I explained to her you weren’t inclined towards women in that way.”
Kit nodded her assent and then stood before the woman, lifting her head so they looked eye to eye. “I am pleased with your offer Sathi. Know that I will protect and respect you in all ways. What is your safe word?”
Sathi smiled then, a cheekiness that wasn’t apparent before lighting up her dark eyes. “Not a word but a phrase if you don’t mind Mistress...leaky boats.”
Kit laughed. “As long as you are sure you can remember it. Come! Let us make some art together.”
12
It was six am when the flight arrived in. George brought Simon’s newer Bentley around to the pickup area to load their gear and settle them in the back. “Good trip ladies.”
Helena rubbed her sore bum as she seated herself. “Alright but they could make those damned airline seats a bit more padded.” She sighed with relief as she settled into the Bentley’s plush upholstery. “Ah, that’s heaven.”
Kit’s lips twitched with amusement. She wasn’t exactly in any better shape herself but she didn’t regret it for a moment. After she’d finished her little demonstration with Sathi all three had retired to a private dungeon that had been set aside for them. She’d proceeded to show Sathi some of her more devastatingly effective techniques with the whip and the paddle, inflicting them on a more than willing Helena. All the time avoiding Helena’s new tattoo. Helena had got her own back of course. She still wasn’t sure what had possessed her to submit to Helena: she’d never played that role before. But she had connected telepathically with her lover back home and shared the whole experience with him. Channelling the experience to him had made it alright.
Helena had innately understood Kit’s need to transcend pain and pleasure, to find that spaciousness that existed on that very narrow edge between both. Hands tied to ropes hanging from the ceiling, legs shackled to the floor, clamps on her nipples and her nether regions. Helena had proceeded to torment her excruciatingly, alternating between the soft caress of feathers, silk cloth and velvet with the erratic sting of the whip. She’d soared into that endorphin filled bliss her kind called subspace. For Kit it was more than a physically induced drug trip, it was profoundly spiritual. Helena seemed to know instinctively when she’d reached that place and had instantly stopped, releasing her from her clamps. With the flood of returning circulation she had found flight. When she finally came down from it there were cuddles all round. Neither Helena, Sathi or herself were inclined towards being intimate with women but it was still a turn on to share their pleasure-pain with each other. Just three friends sharing fun and ecstasy. Their play had bonded them quickly and deeply in friendship like few other experiences could. When she’d finally recovered enough they’d given Sathi a tandem purely non-sexual massage, loosening her knots and helping her to deeply relax and know she was safe with them. Helena had shown how to use a brutal looking but surprisingly pleasurable spiky plastic ball, she’d carted with her, to work the harder to get at muscles around the shoulder blades.
Before they’d dragged themselves to their respective beds Helena and Kit had both extended an invite to Sathi to visit Boswell any time she wanted. In a ritual as old as time Kit had offered them both a bond of friendship. It was rare to find non-mates who would totally accept you as you are and she wanted to acknowledge what that meant to her. For some reason she couldn’t mentally contact Simon for a thumbs up so she followed her intuition instead. When Kit explained what the bond of friendship would do Sathi and Helena had accepted wholeheartedly. When she ritually cut the palms of each hand with the little sacred knife she kept in her boot they had both accepted the blood bond. They had made a declaration to each other of unconditional friendship and acceptance. They would always have each other’s backs.
Leaving Sathi to go help Sheila to lock up for the night Helena and Kit had gone to crash in the twin beds in their hotel room upstairs. The four thirty alarm had been a brutal wake up call. She let her lids close. Time for a bit of well earned shut eye.
George chuckled quietly to himself. He could barely read Helena’s thought but he picked up on the drift of Kit’s. So the ladies had had a night on the town. A pinch of sadness grabbed him as he idolly wished his own even had been ... more. Them’s the breaks.
Pulling out onto the highway he frowned when he noticed a cliche black SUV pull in to follow behind them. As he made the turn onto the direct route to Boswell it stayed with them. “Damn!”
Kit and Helena were instantly alert. “What’s up George?”
“Unless it’s purely coincidence I’d say we’re being tailed. You girls better arm yourselves. There’s a stash of weapons in a compartment under the back seat, including some 7.62 round sub machine guns.” He pressed a button on his dash mounted mobile. Having made the call he put it on speaker mode so the girls could listen in. “Andrew, we’ve got company.”
“Shit, give me a number plate.”
George did and Andrew took a moment to feed it through the computer systems his end. When he found it he swore. “Hit the pedal George. You don’t really want to take on those guys.”
“Russian?”
“Yuh think?”
George couldn’t help but laugh, Scots and their sarcasm. “Hitting the pedal. Hope you ladies are strapped in.”
Kit blushed.
George noticed and smirked. Oh well, time to rephrase things later. Kind of cute really. He hadn’t know the hard ass ninja Jap could blush.
Helena loaded the German made Heckler and Koch MG3s she’d retrieved from under the seat. She passed one to kit. “Pity we don’t have one of these on the roof.”
George gave an evil smile. “Oh but we do. A Browning M2. I just didn’t want it in view until we got off the main roads. Andrew doesn’t like us attracting too much attention to ourselves.” He pressed a button on the dash. Noises briefly whirred as part of the ceiling retracted, replaced in short order by a rather large gun and its mounting that unfolded into position. “Fire up the screen on the back of your seat. Mendal and I adapted it to give you touch screen control of the firing mechanism. Now what you girls need to know is that this car is more than bullet proof so don’t go firing out the windows. There are swivel ports in the side panels of the door that can be opened up, just big enough for the barrels of those other machine guns. Kit, the screen on your side gives you access to a range of weaponry. There’s a Gatling gun mounted in the boot and tire shredders you can launch if they try to come along side. We don’t really want to kill the bad guys if we don’t have to. Our police are on their way. Just try to keep them busy and if you can disable their car do it. I’m going to be mean and take the windiest route into town I know. So I hope your butts will forgive me but I know the bends in this road better than our enemy do. Hang on to your seats.” He pushed his foot even further to the floor, engaged sports mode and gave the car all it ever yearned for, a reason for its being.
Helena wasn’t sure what the driver meant by ‘our police’. Instead she focused on firing up the console. Some smart ass nerd had obviously rigged it to a rear mounted camera. Neat. She allowed herself to enter the flow of George’s driving. When she felt herself sync with it she aimed for the radiator of the SUV behind and let rip.
Return fire pinged the back windscreen but whatever glass it was made from did an amazing job of deflecting the bullets. Not a mark. She studied her screen again. Water was pouring out of the SUV’s radiator now but it was still coming after them. T
hey were trying to gain on them. She was having none of that. She aimed for the tire on the driver’s side and shredded it.
Kit gave Helena a high-five. She hadn’t had to do a thing. Helena had it all well in hand.
The SUV behind them skidded into the drain on the side of the road, coming to a stop. Two cliche tall men in trench coats and dark glasses unloaded themselves from the now steaming wreck and began dusting themselves off. Hearing police sirens they split up and ran for the cover of the bush.
George had hardly stopped the Bentley when Kit grabbed the Heckler and Koch and went to assist, leaving only him and Helena in the car. “Stay here Helena. Believe it or not we’re all bullet proof. You’ve done your bit. Keep the doors locked in case those mugs double back around. You’re totally safe in here. We’ll be back soon.”
It was beginning to piss Helena off. Twice in two days she’d let other people take the heat but if everything Kit had told her was true then George was right. “Okay but damn well bring my new BFF back in one piece.”
George couldn’t help saluting. “Will do mam.”
Helena groaned. “Go George.”
Michael had been scanning the road up ahead when he finally spotted the offending SUV. “There they are. Kiana, you and Hugh go after the bloke that went to the right and Sarah and I will go left.”
They grabbed the mini uzis that Andrew had issued them with and made for the bush.
Michael felt a moment’s frustration. “Damn, I’ve lost sight of him.”
Sarah stared at the ground a moment then ahead at the trees on a small ridge. The signs were as clear as a map to her. She knew exactly where her prey was. “He’s behind that mound waiting for us in ambush. Keep going in that direction. He’ll dismiss me as no threat. I’ll come around from behind.”