The woman picked up a leather harness, which was attached to a massive black rubber dildo, far larger than Helen imagined a real penis could ever be. Just looking at the massive instrument made moisture in her pussy increase, until her flesh stuck slickly to the narrow strip of fabric between her legs.
‘Do you want a taste of this?’ the dominatrix taunted her chained victim, lifting his head so that he could see the dildo more clearly.
The man gave only a soft groan in reply, as he trembled, whether from fear or lust Helen didn’t know.
‘He enjoys it,’ Justin whispered in her ear. ‘He loves being misused by either sex, but he prefers men arse-fucking him to women,’ he added, obviously knowing the victim’s tastes all too well.
Justin stepped away from Helen, and she saw that he hadn’t chosen to wear such an outrageous outfit as most of the other guests. All he had on were his skin-tight leather trousers, and long leather boots, but just the sight of his nipple chains were erotic enough in themselves. Helen watched Justin grab the dildo from the young woman, and dangle it in front of the victim’s face.
‘Please, Justin,’ he whined. ‘I want you inside me, not that thing!’
‘We don’t always get what we want,’ Justin replied with a cruel, salacious grin as he strapped on the dildo. It looked even more outrageously fascinating on a man, and Justin reminded Helen of a high priest of some ancient sect, about to perform some bizarre ritual on his willing captive. She shivered with excitement, hearing the clicking sound his boots made on the polished wood floor as he moved slowly round his victim.
Picking up a silver container, Justin dribbled a sweet-scented oil over the prisoner’s reddened buttocks, letting it drip between the cheeks and pool around his anus. He rubbed it into the trembling flesh, easing his thumb inside the tender ring of the man’s anal opening until he gave a faint moan of surrender.
Helen held her breath, shuddering with excitement as Justin eased the tip of the dildo into his helpless victim. Very carefully, Justin gradually forced the fake organ deeper, ignoring the man’s soft groans. They eventually culminated in a gasp of bliss as the last few inches were buried between his buttocks.
‘Oh, yes,’ Helen heard the man whisper, in a voice so tight and strained that her pussy contracted at the thought of the blissful sensation of fullness that he must be experiencing at this very moment.
Helen clenched her hands, pressing her hot thighs together, her quim afire and chafing hungrily against the slick PVC that covered it. She watched Justin move his hips, thrusting in and out of the prisoner’s anus, all the while hearing the man’s grunts of painful pleasure.
‘Harder, Justin,’ the man groaned, and something about the inflection of his voice made Helen stiffen. She’d not noticed it until now, but there was a familiarity about it she found troubling.
Without thinking of the consequences, she stepped forwards, lifted up the victim’s head and pulled off his mask, disconcerted to discover she was right: the man was Ralph Kalowski.
‘You continually manage to surprise me,’ she said to Justin, who had stopped mid-thrust to stare at her in amazement.
‘And you me, Helen,’ he grunted, then again began to strain manfully against Ralph’s buttocks.
Justin twined his arms around the prone body, grabbed hold of Ralph’s rigid cock, and started to wank it in time with his powerful thrusts, while Helen just stood there staring at them both, trying to make sense of what she had discovered. She couldn’t despise Ralph for his behaviour; in truth she pitied him. Ralph was inherently a moral man, and he wouldn’t have got mixed up in all the underhand occurrences at this hospital, just for money. Justin was clearly in control of their relationship, and Ralph the willing but totally misguided victim.
Both men were now utterly caught up in the pleasures of the moment, and after Helen’s momentous discovery, she didn’t find the spectre quite so arousing as she had before. She turned and slipped silently from the room, still filled with a strong sexual need for fulfilment. Yet she couldn’t chance letting it be sated here, because she feared losing control of herself and being caught up in this wild sea of orgasmic delights.
Perhaps it would be safer to leave right now, she decided. Helen was about to make her way to the exit when, just to her left, she noticed Ben being led into a small, silk-draped cocoon by a tall man dressed from head to foot in black silk. Helen had no idea who Ben’s companion was, and curiosity prompted her to follow them. Reaching their refuge, she cautiously pulled back a loose piece of curtain and peered through the narrow slit. She saw the two men standing in the middle of the small tented chamber, their black-covered forms looking eerily menacing in the flickering candlelight.
Helen had expected Ben and his companion to be engaged in a prequel to intimacy, or already involved in a sexual act, but to her surprise they appeared to be having a violent argument. Ben gesticulated angrily, and she strained to hear what was being said, but the music being played in the ballroom was very loud – there was a speaker not far behind her and the heavy beat drowned out every word they spoke.
For a moment the beat softened as it reached a less intrusive passage of the music. ‘You greedy idiot, you’ll jeopardise all I’ve worked for,’ she thought she heard the tall man yell.
‘I didn’t do it out of greed,’ Ben shouted in reply. ‘I need the money. How can you blame me – this is all your fault. If you hadn’t arranged for . . .’ The rest of the sentence was drowned out by a final crescendo from the overloud music track, frustrating Helen as she was certain that she’d been about to hear something of paramount importance.
Ben ripped off his mask, his teeth drawn back in a rictus of fury, his face red and shiny in the flickering light. He shouted as he raised his fists, looking as though he was about to punch the tall man. With an almost causal display of restrained violence, the man shoved Ben backwards, sending him staggering back against the hard wall hidden behind the silk curtain. The tall stranger turned on his heels and strode away before Ben had time to recover himself, passing only inches away from where Helen stood, frozen in surprise. She was unable to even hazard a guess as to who the stranger was; she couldn’t distinguish any recognisable feature beneath his black satin mask.
Seconds later Ben had recovered himself, and left the tiny chamber. He stomped past Helen, looking extremely hot and agitated as he pulled open the neckline of his sweat-stained rubber garment. Helen cautiously stepped back, hopefully out of his sight, but Ben was too furious and too preoccupied to notice her or the fact that a silver chain had slid from his neck and fallen to the ground.
As Ben disappeared among the partygoers, Helen bent to pick up the broken silver chain; still attached to it was a small Yale key. She felt exhilarated and excited, certain that this was what she had been looking for – the key to Justin’s office. Helen had no pockets, so she tucked the key safely into the top of her boot, and moved determinedly towards the exit. She decided that while everyone was still here, enjoying themselves, she would break into Justin’s office and find the proof she and Colin had been looking for.
There were a number of people standing around the main door of the ballroom, and at first she couldn’t figure out why they had congregated in that spot, not until she got close enough to see that a small semi-circle of people were gathered around Sandra and her slave. Now bereft of her cloak, Sandra stood there staring angrily down at the naked man crouched at her feet. Helen heard the slave’s harsh agitated breathing beneath his tight-fitting leather mask. The zip fastener covering his mouth was still closed, so he couldn’t beg for mercy, even if he wanted to.
At a nod from Sandra, a stocky man, who Helen recognised as a medical technician, hauled the slave to his feet, jerked his arms upwards and confined the slave’s wrists in leather handcuffs that dangled from a high wooden frame.
There was a mutual sigh of appreciation from the crowd as they stared at the slave hanging there, quivering with anticipation, all too eager for the punishment h
e was about to endure. Sandra stepped forward, slashing the thin, leather-covered switch she carried through the air. It made a menacing sound which caused the slave to tremble even more.
Sandra slapped him hard across the buttocks, then across the curve of his hip, and he tensed excitedly, welcoming his chastisement with a moan of capitulation that pierced Helen’s belly like a sword, making her feel hotter and homier than ever. All around her people waited with bated breath for the next painful stroke, eager to enjoy every moment of the slave’s erotic punishment.
Helen despised them all, yet in doing so she also despised herself, and she shivered with excitement as she saw Sandra hit her slave again. The thin cane stroked his flesh, bringing with it a subtle mixture of pain and pleasure that was even more arousing to him than it was to the watching crowd. By now the slave’s breath was coming in short gasps, as his struggles to survive his retribution were hampered by the all-enveloping mask.
‘I wouldn’t want you to suffocate before I’ve finished,’ Sandra said, unfastening the mask and ripping it off to reveal Christopher’s hot sweaty features to the watching crowd.
Helen was vaguely aware that she recognised the slave as someone well-known but, like the rest of the audience, she didn’t care who he was. Her only interest was in what was to happen next, her senses aroused and intoxicated.
Sandra applied the switch, punishing Christopher with exact precision – an accomplishment she had honed and perfected over the last two years. Because Sandra also enjoyed being on the receiving end, she knew just how much discomfort to inflict to create the ultimate pleasure. Helen watched Sandra display her skills, feeling her body grow warmer, her sex even hotter, her skin glowing with the sheen of lust. Two further blows, this time aimed directly across the base of Christopher’s red stubby cock, made it twitch and stand proudly out from his groin. His penis looked tight and turgid, ready to explode at any moment, as the switch kissed it yet again.
Helen was so caught up in the fervour of the ogling crowd, she wasn’t even conscious of a man moving closer to her. Not until she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck, and smelt the spicy odour emanating from his flesh. He twined his arm around her body and jerked her back against his muscular chest. She could feel the hardness of his erection digging into her buttocks, yet she never even glanced down, or tore her gaze from the man being beaten by Sandra.
She felt fingers slide under the brief slither of fabric covering her breasts and rub her nipple. It felt so good she relaxed back against her seducer, sighing with relief as he pushed his hand between her thighs, pressing the heel of his palm against her aching pussy, forcing the sticky strip of PVC that covered it between her swollen sex lips.
Sandra didn’t appear to be hitting her victim so hard now, only cruelly caressing his penis with the tip of the switch. Helen moved restlessly against her seducer, wanting the sensations he was arousing within her to become stronger. She was filled with delighted relief when he eased his fingers under the PVC gusset and dipped them into her quim. His sweetly teasing fingers felt good as they gradually explored the narrow valley of her sex, her hungry flesh welcoming his tantalising touch.
‘Do you give yourself to any person who wants you?’ he whispered in her ear in a low grating voice.
‘No,’ she gasped, pressing her buttocks back against the hard line of his erection. ‘Deeper,’ she begged. ‘Push your fingers deeper.’
All around them others were doing the same. Helen could hear their moans of pleasure, the soft, wet sounds of sex, and her seducer’s heavy breathing, while centre-stage Christopher, still being punished by Sandra, gave a loud grunt of bliss.
The gusset of Helen’s garment was so snug fitting that it prevented her seducer from thrusting his fingers fully into her hungry vagina. In frustration he tore at the tight laces, managing to loosen the garment enough to allow him access to the very depth of her being. His fingers plunged deep into her cunt, just as Sandra hit Christopher one last time. His cock reared angrily upwards, and spunk spurted from the tip in an almost never-ending stream.
‘You say you don’t give yourself to everyone, but that’s not what I hear,’ her seducer said in an all too familiar voice, while his fingers rubbed Helen’s clit, leading her closer and closer to her climax.
‘Max!’ she gasped in disbelief, as her orgasm came in a sudden rush, her flesh contracting in wild waves around his fingers.
‘I hear you’ve been extraordinarily busy while I’ve been away,’ he growled, his voice tight with fury.
Helen was still trembling in the aftermath of her climax as Max spun her round to face him and ripped off her mask. His pale-blue eyes were cold and merciless as he stared at her through the slits of his black silk mask. Max looked even taller, even more threatening now than he did when he’d been arguing with Ben.
‘I never thought . . .’ She stared up at him, overcome by amazement at his unexpected appearance at this event.
‘It appears you didn’t, my sweet,’ he grated, unfastening her belt, letting her decorative skirt drop to the floor. ‘I received your agitated phone message and flew halfway around the world without a second thought – like a knight to the rescue of his damsel in distress.’
‘I wasn’t in distress,’ she insisted, as Max’s hands pulled at the laces which held her brief garment together. ‘I just wanted to warn you –’
‘– Warn me that you’ve spent your time in an endless round of shagging!’
Helen knew that Ben must have accused her of betraying Max, probably in an effort to deflate his anger over the drugs racket and turn his fury towards her instead. ‘That’s not true!’ she insisted.
‘Every bloody person in the hospital knows you were at it with Duncan, and goodness knows how many other men,’ Max added, pulling so roughly at the laces of her dress that they cut into her flesh. ‘I’ve spent the last few years listening to my entire family withering on about how handsome and successful Duncan is, now you do this to me.’
‘So?’ she countered furiously, trying unsuccessfully to stop Max from undressing her completely as she hung determinedly on to the front of her brief garment. ‘We can talk about this more calmly later. Don’t you have more important considerations? After what I told you about Ben –’
‘– Bugger Ben,’ Max hissed, angrier that she had ever seen him. ‘You’re mine, Helen. You seem to have forgotten that.’
‘I belong to no one but myself,’ she responded, as he managed to divest her of every inch of her clothing, ripping the tattered remains out of her hands. Helen was left standing naked, apart from her high-heeled boots, in the ballroom. All eyes were salaciously focused on her, and she couldn’t even run or hide because Max was holding on to her purposefully, forcing her to endure this horrible humiliation. ‘No,’ she begged, feeling embarrassed and fearful, but her mortification was mixed with a much darker emotion she couldn’t define.
When Helen realised what Max intended to do next, she tried determinedly to get away from him. Struggling with all her might, as he dragged her towards the leather handcuffs that dangled menacingly down from the tall wooden rack.
She might have managed to get away from Max, if someone hadn’t helped him by grabbing her from behind. She couldn’t see her other assailant as two pairs of strong male arms held her, forcing her wrists upwards and confining them in the handcuffs. Helen was left hanging there, her feet barely reaching the ground, naked and totally helpless, all too conscious of the crowd moving closer, their eyes hungrily trained on her nude body.
Max slowly circled her hanging form, giving a harsh laugh as she tried desperately to lash out at him with her booted foot, missing his crotch by only inches. Helen’s cheeks turned scarlet as she realised the sudden movement had exposed her to everyone’s gaze. As Max stepped closer, running his hands sensuously over her bosom, she clenched her teeth and didn’t move a muscle, consumed by shame as he rubbed her breasts harder, pinching and squeezing her nipples. He rolled them roughly between
his fingers and thumbs, and Helen tried to fight the sudden surge of desire that consumed her senses.
‘I intend to teach you a lesson, Helen. In future you fuck no one without my express permission,’ he said cruelly, while twisting one of her nipples until she whimpered with painful bliss.
‘Damn you,’ she hissed. ‘I do what I like. You don’t own me, and you never will!’
‘You’re mistaken, Helen. I do own you and I always will.’
Max ran his hands down over her trembling stomach towards her sex and Helen squeezed her thighs tightly together. She stared with anguished concentration at his chilling blue eyes, only partially visible through the slits of his mask, knowing that he would give her no mercy. Max was strong and determined, he easily forced his hand between her legs, and into the moist slit of her sex. Despite her fury, the sensation of his fingers stroking her made her feel horny and highly excited. Her thigh muscles automatically relaxed, as she welcomed the delicious pleasure of his fingers sliding smoothly inside her.
Max slapped her hard across her buttocks and she winced, turned on by the stinging discomfort. He slapped her again with the flat of his hand, while roughly thrusting his fingers deeper into her. Helen tried to fight the steadily rising sensations, but Max knew her body well, and the movements of his thrusting fingers made her shudder with bliss. The eyes of the watching crowd seemed to devour her, feeding on both her pleasure and her pain, causing Helen to experience an unexpectedly exhilarating sensation which suddenly burst free from a deep, dark part of her psyche. Inexplicably she was turned on by the thought of so many people watching intently as Max finger-fucked her, every one of them eager to witness and share her climax.
Each of Helen’s individual nerve endings became electrifyingly attuned to the cloud of carnal lust that hung over the people in front of her, seeping sensuously through their bodies into hers. She shuddered, the spiralling sensations rising, but Max knew how close she was to her climax and he jerked his hand away from her sex.
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