Smoke

by C. P. Mandara

  After another bout of teasing, my right nipple was subjected to the other clamp. Although I voiced my distress through the very uncooperative ‘O’ that resided in my mouth, Adie didn’t pay the least bit of attention to the sound. He seemed completely lost in his thoughts. When he finally did snap out of it, he slapped both of my breasts, left and right, several times, and that made me sit up and pay attention.

  “Good. I think they’ll hold.” He then patted my nose twice with his finger. “Any idea what the game is yet, slave?”

  I could have a vague guess. Every time my head was tilted upwards, the chains would pull and tug at the clamps upon my nipples. There would be champagne involved and, more than likely, plenty of oral sex.

  “Ungh.” That was really the only response I could give.

  “I knew you would have. There appears to be something faintly resembling intelligence between those eyes. I think that’s why I picked you.” Charmed, I’m sure.

  Adie walked away but was back within seconds. This time he had a hammer in his hands, and it freaked me the hell out. Immediately rising to my feet, I figured I'd do a couple of laps around the room after all, but once again his hand on my head slammed me back into the floor.

  “Relax. I’m not going to break any bones yet – you haven’t annoyed me enough.” That didn’t reassure me much.

  Taking an extremely long nail out of his pocket, he threaded it through a link in the centre of the handcuff chain that connected both my wrists together. Dragging me along the floor until we'd reached a steel post that had a square block of wood fixed to the bottom of it, he placed the nail on top of the wood and slammed the hammer downwards a couple of times, until it had disappeared entirely.

  "That should keep you out of trouble for the time being." He smirked at me. I barely noticed. I was looking at my hands in horror and tugging them frantically upwards as if the wood would magically melt away somehow. It didn't. For the time being, I was trapped here with Crazy Monster, and unless a miracle happened, it wasn't likely to be a great ride. Adie had all the hallmarks of being just as crazy as Dumortier, but as I wasn't going to be allowed to kill him, it dampened my ardour a little.

  "Right, head up, Thirty-Eight." Adie tilted my head up towards the ceiling once more, but this time, with the insistent pull of both clamps, desire shot through me, hot and heavy. It didn't help that I was staring at a close up of a magnificently sculpted chest. My hands automatically reached out to touch it but didn't get more than a few centimetres off the floor. He laughed at my antics. "Predictable little thing, aren't you? Anyway, enough messing around, Slave. It's time for your medicine. You're going to drink every last drop, and I'm going to make sure of it.” He had the bottle in his hands once more, and he angled it towards my mouth, tipping it ever so slowly towards me. The first trickle of champagne hit the back of my throat with an explosive fizz, and I spluttered for a moment. My head was at such an awkward angle it was difficult to swallow, and for a moment, I wondered if I'd get away with just letting it trickle over my lips.

  "Swallow every last drop, Thirty-Eight, or I'll get at least another couple of those pins and attempt to recreate something biblical." He gave a pointed look at the St Andrews cross residing on the other side of the wall, and I gazed at him in horror. Surely he was joking? His flat look and dead eyes said that he was not. Now I could have indulged in a game of chicken, but after the vodka and fire thing earlier, I was a little bit twitchy. Besides, I liked my hands just how they were, and they were pretty important in my line of work. There weren't too many one-handed assassins on the prowl, let's put it that way. I swallowed the fucking champagne.

  “There. See, it wasn’t so hard, was it? You’ll be swallowing a lot more stuff before the night is out, so I’m introducing you to the concept gently.” What a sweet guy you are. You’ll be nominated for a knighthood before you know it.

  The asshole wasn't content with a single mouthful, though. Oh no. The champagne bottle was once again being tipped upside down, and I was its unfortunate recipient. Adie looked at me with unsuppressed excitement almost bleeding from his eyes. He was turned on, that much was clear.

  “Don’t swallow this mouthful. Hold it for a second. I’ll be right back.” Adie strode over to the door, waved his key card and left the room. Fantastic. What new game did I have to look forward to? Or did the prick just need to pee? I sat there for a good five minutes waiting to find out. Had I not been pinned to the floor, I might have seriously considered running, but I had first-hand knowledge that it wouldn't end well. For the time being, I was trapped here, and I would just have to work on making my stay as pleasant as possible by using my feminine wiles. It was going to be a lot harder than I thought, though, going by today's antics.

  When the door reopened, my eyes zoomed in on the moving woodwork, anxious to see what the hell was in store for me now. Expecting to see Adie with some kind of torture device, I was a little taken aback to find he had a naked man in tow. The guy was obviously a slave because he wore heavy cast-iron cuffs around his wrists, ankles, and neck. I didn’t remember seeing him earlier at the auction, so I had to assume he’d been here for a while. The question was: what was he doing in this room with me?

  Adie walked in right behind him, looking like the cat who had just got the cream. “Thirty-Eight, meet Big Boy Brad. You can probably figure out why he’s called that, but just in case you’re completely stupid, like most of my slaves are, we’re going to demonstrate in an up close and personal fashion. I’m going to get Brad here, to feed you each mouthful of champagne, and then you’re going to suck him off to say thank you. Think you can do that?”

  "Yes," I stuttered, trying to smile but failing miserably. Having discovered Brad's cock was a lot larger than the average male's my eyes were now glued to it. At the moment, it was flaccid, but even so, it was an impressive beast. It was a good nine inches already, so who knew what delights I had in store for me. Besides, I'd been hoping to get my jaws around Adie. Brad was all very nice, but he didn't send my pulse skittering the same way Crazy Monster did.

  "Good." He then turned to Brad and said, "I know you prefer men, Sweetheart, but if you do this for me, I'll make it worth your while. Now get your ass over there." Brad did precisely as he was told without a murmur of complaint. Before I knew what was happening, his six-foot-four-inch frame was towering over me, and a massive cock was right in front of my face. Any other woman would probably be in dream world, right now. Brad was blond, tanned, and worked out much harder than Adie did. He was a walking tower of muscle and sinew, with dazzling blue eyes that you could have captured from a midsummer's eve sky. The trouble was, I wanted Adie. I couldn't help but wonder whether Brad and Adie were a thing? Did Crazy Monster do girls as well as boys? I had a feeling he did. Time would tell.

  “Push that pretty little head up as high as you can, Thirty-Eight. Make sure those clamps are straining nicely.” I did as he asked, although the pain took my breath away. Now that they’d been on for a few minutes, the throbbing intensity they produced was quite something, and it was quickly getting worse.

  “That’s it. Good girl. I want to see those tits dance as you’re sucking him. If you do a nice job, I’ll give you a reward, too.” Adie grabbed an uncomfortable-looking, utilitarian steel chair and sat himself down on it. “I’m looking forward to a good show, Brad. Give her a small mouthful of champagne and then ram it down her throat, if you know what I mean. And for fuck’s sake don’t rush. This is my foreplay for the evening. You feel me?” Brad nodded and grabbed the champagne bottle. Adie then turned to me.

  “Get that chin up higher, Thirty-Eight. I don’t want you wasting a drop.”

  Brad helped me out. Lifting my chin a little higher with his hand, he then tipped the bottle up and poured a mouthful of fizz into me. The pressure on my nipples by this time was excruciating, but with Adie in the room, the pain seemed to channel itself straight between my legs, putting previously unknown pressure on my libido. James might have given me a
jumpstart into the land of BDSM, but Adie was going to make me go nuclear.

  “Now make sure she drinks it all, Brad. If I see a drop spilt on the floor, you’ll be licking it up, while I tan your hide.”

  Brad didn’t seem to need any more encouragement. Placing his now semi-erect cock at my lips, I did my best to take him into my mouth – which wasn’t an easy feat considering it was gagged, and full of champagne that I wasn’t allowed to spill. Somehow, I managed to take a good quarter of him inside me, although I had to work at it. This didn’t bother me in the least because Crazy Monster was watching me, and it turned me the hell on.

  Long, slow, thrusts of Brad’s cock forced the fizzy champers down my throat, and a few desperate swallows, whenever I got the chance, managed to get rid of the rest. Before long, I’d lathered him in my saliva and had managed to get into some kind of rhythm, which at least had him fully erect. If I’d had use of my hands, then I’d have been able to do a much better job, but as it was, only my mouth was on offer. I’d just have to hope it was enough.

  When Brad pulled out of me, after just a few strokes, I pouted pitifully. I was just beginning to enjoy myself and was not amused at having my fun curtailed. He must have got the general message, because he then said, “Hey, relax. You need more champagne.” I was beginning to think I needed more champagne, too, and that was when I knew things weren’t looking good.

  "That's it. Just tip your head up a little bit more," Brad had lots of fun, making sure the clamps were being strained to their maximum potential, while I tried my best to swallow. Before I knew what was happening, his cock with filling my mouth again, and this time he was a bit more enthusiastic about his task. Now, my mouth was stretched full to bursting and saliva was beginning to pour down both sides of my lips. He set up a brutal pace, and I swear the man was trying to bruise the back of my throat. Everything began to feel stretched and sore. Brad took hold of a handful of hair on each side of my head as he took his champagne feeding job rather too seriously. He continued thrusting into me, faster and faster until I thought I might never get another breath of air back into my body. When I began to turn blue, I tried to turn my eyes over to Adie for assistance, which was a bit like a fly asking for a spider's help. The bastard took his sweet time acknowledging me.

  “I take it back, Brad. She can spill as much as she likes because she looks fucking adorable like that. You’re going to choke her if you continue, though. She needs a quick thirty-second break if you don’t want to kill her in the immediate future.”

  Brad withdrew instantly, and he looked at me with concern. I wheezed in a couple of deep breaths where I could and mumbled my thanks. At least someone cared whether I lived or died around here.

  "Sorry," he said. "I'm not used to girls. That's why I'm a little awkward around you." He let go of the tight grip he had in my hair, which I guess was an apology of sorts. My roots sighed in relief. "Carte Blanche requires all of its participants to be multitalented, so today is my day to practice. You'll just have to bear with me. Like I said, this is pretty new."

  And didn't that drop a bombshell on the evening? I was at Carte Blanche. Carte Blanche! Home of Alain Dumortier. I did have a shot at this after all. All I had to do now was locate the bastard. My eyes opened wide in shock before I could control the reaction, but thankfully Brad's cock was busy distracting the man in charge. Devouring it as I would an ice-lolly in a heat wave, I prayed the damn freak would come soon. If he didn't, there was a good chance he might damage an internal organ or two.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Brad had finally finished with me, I lay on the floor gasping for breath with all sorts of yucky goo running down my face. Champagne, semen, saliva - I didn't care. Breathing just felt so good. Everything was beginning to feel rather pleasant now because the champagne had well and truly entered my bloodstream and my reactions were shot. There was a whole lot of happy fuzzy fairies and very little left of anything that might be vaguely useful. Great.

  Thankfully, Brad had been dismissed as soon as he'd done his duty. For his future outings, I hope he managed to stay in the ‘man camp' because I really didn't want another session with Mr. Big. All that aside, he couldn't dampen my elation now that I knew where I was. It had been too much to hope for that I'd ended up in Carte Blanche, and yet, here I was. How did that happen? James had basically told me I had a hope in hell's chance of getting here, and I'd accepted that risk. Fuck. The gods must have been smiling down on me after all - or if they weren't smiling, they had quite the sense of humour.

  The meaning of Carte Blanche is ‘unconditional authority or discretionary power.’ I looked it up before I left for the auction. It was quite an apt name for all the users of a brothel full of sex slaves. They got to feel like Gods, while we got to feel like… hmm… maybe I wouldn’t tackle that one just yet. Adie was walking towards me with a face like thunder, and if my hands weren’t tied down, I’d have been running in the other direction.

  "Well, not bad for your first time, Thirty-Eight. I'll definitely need someone to take the edge off things later. Sadly, it won't be you because you have to earn that kind of privilege around these parts, but I'm sure you'll have fun working your way up to your first orgasm. All the girls do – trust me." Adie had the hammer back in his hand, and once again I flinched away from it automatically.

  "Come now, Thirty-Eight. Why so scared? I almost want to break something." Adie's sexy Spanish accent purred at me, while the cold, blunt end of the hammer trailed between my breasts. Crazy Monster was back, and with one backward swing of that hammer, he could easily crush my ribcage. Swearing at him in gobbledegook, which was the only thing I could do with the gag in place, I gave him a hard stare.

  “That’s better. This is what I like about you, Thirty-Eight. There’s a fire inside you that I don’t see very often.” Picking me up from the ground, Adie used the claw at the reverse end of the hammer to drag the pin that had been holding me hostage free. Relief washed over me as I was given back the use of my hands, even though they were still in handcuffs. At least I had a chance like this.

  The hammer then settled between my legs, brutally cold on my molten clit, and I yelped in shock. "I can't decide whether I want to watch the fire burn, or whether I want to snuff it out, Thirty-Eight." The hammer was then pushed against me, sinking inside my soft, wet folds, and I found myself straining towards it.

  "When I bought you, I knew you were a wild card, but by now I'd usually have the measure of you. I don't think we've reached that point, yet, have we?" Adie pulled my chin up sharply, and the pressure on the chains holding the clamps together brought tears to my eyes, but I shook my head. No. He didn't have the measure of me yet, and nor would he until I'd done what I came here to do. Until then, he could remain clueless like everyone else.

  "Anyway, enough chitchat. I came for a torture session, and while seeing you get your throat fucked was very entertaining, that was only the appetiser. I have much bigger things planned. First, though, you can lap up all this mess from off the floor. At the moment, it's a health and safety hazard, and we certainly wouldn't want anyone to slip on it, would we?" He raised his eyebrow at me in question, and I blinked. Surely he couldn't be serious? His steely gaze told me that he was, so I slowly shook my head. There was no way I wanted to lick anything off the floor, but I also didn't want to piss Crazy Monster off, either. There was only so much crazy I could deal with. Besides, the floor had almost certainly been mopped with anti-bac, right? Of course, it had, at least, that's what I was going to tell myself anyway.

  Scrabbling around until I'd positioned myself in front of him, I then pointed to the gag in my mouth and waited for Adie to release it. My jaw was beginning to ache, and as I'd finished with Brad, I didn't see why it needed to stay. If I was going to be using my tongue as a wet/dry vacuum cleaner, I might as well gain the use of my lips back.

  At first, Adie looked at me quizzically, as if wondering what the hell I was up to now, but it didn’t take long for the penny
to drop. A slow grin lit up his face, which immediately signified trouble.

  "Oh no, Thirty-Eight. You don't get to ask me for anything. If I want to take the gag off, I'll let you know. The only reason I can think of for doing so would be to hear your screams – and we'll get to that later. All you need to do is stick your tongue out through the silicone and get busy. RIGHT NOW!" If the volume of his voice didn't alert me to the urgency my task required, his leather-bound shoe in my ribs did. Getting down on my hands and knees, I got busy real quick.

  It didn't take me long to figure out that with my mouth gagged, I could do little more than smear the goo around. Sure I could get my tongue out, but subsequently trying to scoop anything back inside my mouth was virtually impossible. By this time, my whole body was throbbing in pain. Between my clamped nipples and my clit, there was a cavernous ache inside my body a mile wide. All I wanted was release, and I already knew that wasn't coming. Adie was using me for kicks, nothing more. When he'd finished with me, he'd move on to another girl – one that didn't have her face covered in goo, I suspected. It shouldn't have bothered me. Adie was apparently a big shot around these parts, and he would have had hundreds of girls in his time here. I was nothing more than a number to him, and I needed to get used to the fact. Somehow I would have to shelve the attraction I felt to him, and try and look upon him with indifference. With any luck, it might even irk him a little.

  "You finished yet? You're taking long enough." Adie's footsteps were loud across the plastic floor, and they made me wince. My pulse rate skittered at his close proximity, and I immediately tried to combat the reaction by thinking of Henry. It didn't work. When he lifted my face up off the floor with his shoe and surveyed my work, he grimaced. "Oh no, no, no, Thirty-Eight. This simply won't do." He then grabbed my hair and began dragging me over to the nearest leather bench. I think it was fair to say I was in trouble.