Bait Naked
Page 7
“Look at her plump sex,” a stern appearing woman dressed in a wicked black shift commented. “Will the sjambok work the slit during the punishment?”
“Yes, but only a taste,” Naomi answered. “Her infraction was minor. As such there won’t be any purposefully lasting damage done.”
“You will make her bleed and scream for us,” the woman pressed, “won’t you?”
“Most certainly,” Mr. Bain answered as Naomi smiled. “Worked on by my skilled assistant Naomi, our lovely subject will provide the Baronesa and the other guests with a banquet of unleashed passions. Now ladies and gentlemen, please drink up. This lovely slut’s punishment begins in fifteen minutes.”
Laughter, the self congratulatory clinking of expensive crystal and further groping of her readily exposed body concluded Angela’s bizarre introduction to the event’s exclusive guests. All except the lone women in the group left shortly afterwards.
“Bring her to my limousine after the show,” she said to Naomi handing Mr. Bain a thick envelope. “I wish for a private half hour with the girl. Females with freshly brutalized hindquarters are sexually overwrought after such a proceeding. We both can have an intimate conversation while winding down after the beating.”
“Of course,” David Bain agreed putting the envelope into his jacket’s breast pocket. “Angela would like that.”
Not only was she going to shortly be thrashed within an inch of her life, Angela had just been consigned to the role of sex slave to a woman she didn’t know nor wanted to know. Readily accepting the contrived punishment as a means to enhance her cover of playing bait naked was one thing. Out on the edges of reasonable sacrifice to catch her man, she could justify such an atrocious action. Having to sexually service a strange woman in the back seat of her limo was a step too far. As far as Angela could see, there was no payback in it for her. David Bain had another take.
“Baronesa Delgado has a controlling share of the resort,” he said while indicating to Naomi that it was time to move. “Very little happens that she doesn’t know about, to include having an insight into the list your Frank provided us.”
This had to be a tease to get Angela on board to go down on the Baronesa with outward enthusiasm. The more she thought about it, David Bain’s tidbit was in step with the bribe mentality prevalent in all of Angela’s official exchanges thus far. The possibility of the Baronesa throwing her a bone with real meat in return for sexual servicing was a pure come-on. Angela was not a prostitute. She mixed sex and work only when necessary. Having been maneuvered into a compulsory coupling with the Baronesa, she hoped the information would be actionable.
Ceasing her self-flagellation for implicitly accepting the undesirable, Angela’s attention was captured by the roar of reception as she, David Bain and Naomi arrived on a brightly lit circular stage. Hampered by the glare, Angela detected that they were in an outdoor amphitheater carved out of natural rock. A sharp stake filled ditch surrounded the stage. Armed guards were everywhere.
At the center of the platform was a raised dais consisting of foot stocks and a waist high bar. A rope noose hung ominously in the blackness just beyond the bar. David Bain assumed a position stage right behind a podium. He started the event welcoming the dignitaries and reading Angela’s sentence. Nervous to terrified, at that point Angela almost had a premature orgasm.
“…is sentenced to twenty five fully laid on blows of the sjambok,” Mr. Bain announced. “May the punishment have a beneficial impact on her future behavior.”
Applause followed with boisterous calls for an unmerciful destruction of Angela’s naked flesh and worse. There was little doubt in Angela’s mind that without the pointed stake filled ditch surrounding the platform and a plethora of armed guards she would have been consumed by the voracious mob. Even Naomi looked apprehensive. With danger a twisted upper, Angela fought to keep her perspective. This wasn’t a time to let her edge-play sexual persona take charge.
On quivering automatic, her uncontrollable sex fired to hot, Angela followed Naomi’s direction by stepping into the ankle stocks which were quickly locked closed. The rope noose was placed around her neck and, by someone off stage, drawn tight. It wasn’t strangling tight, but enough of a pressure to force Angela to bend forward slightly over the waist high metal bar. Naomi removing her blouse and bra, clothed only in high heels and a short black skirt brought the gathered throng to their feet. It was too much for Angela. She shamed herself in front of the mass of barely confined lust. With her obvious carnal convulsions, pandemonium ensued.
Naomi quickly took charge and fired in six cruel blows taking Angela’s nether cheeks from the upper start of her bottom crack in a closely spaced welt pattern. For a brief time, orgasmic euphoria and mind bending pain coexisted. With the rapidly applied next series of six all aspects of carnal pleasure disappeared. Mesmerized, the mob was reduced to wows and cheers. A chance glance over her shoulder, behind the gauze hood Angela’s eyes met those of Baronesa Delgado. Her demeanor was a combination of calm, understanding and pleasure. Angela’s punishment was interesting to inspiring.
Naomi interceded and sought to make the beating unforgettable. She was successful.
Chapter 16 Sapphic Bribe
“Forgive me,” the Baronesa moaned, Angela working the charged woman’s moist sex with her lips and tongue, “but I would give a million dollars to see dear Naomi give your perfect backside another twenty five tonight with the sjambok. An unbearable welt on welt beating is so erotic.”
And you would see me dead in the end Angela silently added. Never in her life had she suffered such a viscous agony filled savaging. Hardly able to stand much less walk afterward, she was in the Baronesa’s limo’s spacious back seat enclave on her knees thanks to the manhandling of two assigned bodyguards. She was sure blood was still seeping from the welts. The Baronesa had been impressed, but not with Angela’s fortitude and endurance under the onslaught. Naomi was the focus of her admiration.
“I mean the sjambok can be such a brutal instrument if used carelessly,” the Baronesa continued, “but Naomi was simply masterful in its employment. I’m sure that as an erotic pain aficionado, you were as equally impressed as I was.”
Lifting her head clear of the Baronesa’s thighs, Angela fought the urge to respond with obvious sarcasm by being truthful to a difficult extent.
“Impressed? I was awed by her skill,” Angela offered still dealing with what felt like serious injury. Adding a sweetener to the bitterness, she said in acrid praise, “Naomi is an artist, her repertoire of strokes kept me agitated and howling throughout the beating. A lesser effort would have had me wasted by the thirtieth stroke.”
“Oh yes,” Baronesa Delgado exclaimed taking a fist full of Angela’s hair and redirecting her face back into contact with her agitated cunt. “Her backhand was as magnificent as her forehand delivery. The inspired use of the sjambok on your lovely thighs was so exciting. I believe that I stopped breathing two or three times. And those strikes that tasted your cunt were beyond awesome…especially the climax where she laid a cut lengthwise down your open slit.”
With that last stroke and within the limited confines of noose and ankle stocks, she had gone high order. The crazed crowd went insane, jumping to their feet, shouting and screaming, madly applauding. Through the dark gauze, her sex and hindquarters on fire and surely leaking, her mind dealing with a mega-storm of twisted passions Angela remembered Naomi bowing and then returning for what could only be described as an additional curtain call. As Naomi had predicted, hooded and beaten senseless, to the assembled mass Angela was little more than a bit player. The performance over, Angela intended to change that casting perspective.
Near mental and physical exhaustion, Angela drew on her un-repressible sexual spirit to maintain an appearance of engaged sexuality. The uppers provided by Naomi were helping. She needed something more to stay in the game. Baronesa Isabel Delgado spewing of information connected to the missing persons file did the trick.
That energized Angela’s aching tongue. Finally a positive, the beating and Sapphic sex could become the key to solving the criminal aspect of the disappearances. Based somewhat on Jack’s briefs and more on Angela’s instincts, she had already concluded the missing women had consciously or not been complicit to one degree or another in their own vanishing acts. The Baronesa supported this supposition with what could only be taken as a veiled confession.
“This is off the record,” the Baronesa began, her breathing and body language telegraphing an impending orgasm. “And remembering that this is a poor country, a small number of the women…in particular the two that disappeared directly from the resort…were looking for more than two weeks of fantasy play. They sought a full ride into sexual oblivion. For a small handling fee, my Security detail at the resort facilitated their wishes.”
What about the others Angela silently shouted, the ones that went missing weeks after they had left the resort? Further thought was temporarily interrupted by the Baronesa passing into the rapture of an extended orgasm. It was an impressive series of cascading shudders. Trapped by the pressure of the Baronesa’s thighs and insistent control of her head, Angela continued to labor with tongue and lips, sucking, lickings and plunging even nipping with her teeth to maintain an exquisite presence at the woman’s sexual heart.
Not immune to the erotic sensations of sexually pleasuring another woman, Angela frantically joined the Baronesa in her own release of pent-up orgasmic energy. Yes, the punishment had been cruel, but here and now the taking of suspended pleasure seemed right with her adjusted feminine essence. Coming down from their joint sexual high, she discovered that the Baronesa was finally in admiration of Angela, unaided by the voyeuristic stimulation Naomi had provided.
“If you ever want to visit,” Baronesa Delgado said, “just the two of us, drop a note to Mr. Bain. And please make it to Isabella. It seems like we are a good fit.”
“Once I have this case fully solved,” Angela responded, the lingering pain of the beatings feeling somehow rewarding, “I will make a point of it.”
“Ah yes the case of the other missing women,” Isabella said. “A while back we became aware that there was an external operation going on that was using the resort’s uniqueness to identify possible kidnap victims. I commissioned an investigation of my own. However the results were inconclusive.”
“Maybe from my perspective,” Angela offered, the missing women on the list that disappeared with the help of the resort obviously off limits, “I will get the opportunity to bring a conclusive end to this outside parasite’s op?”
“Possibly,” Isabella answered, smoothing her rumpled skirt. “I will think on your point. In the interim be careful. The females on the list that I have been able to track have ended up mostly as glorified pain-whores for as long as they proved valuable to their eventual owners. After that, it is anyone’s guess what happened to them. I should think that as used goods, the asking price is reduced over time, the end game not very pretty.”
“Is there anything else?” Angela continued to probe, thinking that at least her target wasn’t a fully deranged sexual psychopath.
“Hum,” Isabella began to answer and instead keyed the limo’s intercom and said, “Have this woman’s assigned handlers come and get her. We are through in here.”
The message was clear: end of sexual interaction and conversation. Or so Angela thought. As a back door opened and Angela struggled to become available for extraction by the two male escorts, Isabella in the haughty tone of a Baronesa provided Angela one last tidbit.
“Rumor has it,” Baronesa said, not looking at Angela, “that the one you are looking for has a leather pouch containing mementos of his conquests. The pouch is made from the cured testicular sack of a bull. The tokens are said to be a lock of hair from each of his victims.”
Angela’s ‘Thank you’ was cut off by the door closing and the two men carrying her off to Naomi waiting in the resort van. With increasing certainty, bait naked was not an easy course to pursue. Damaged, without reliable backup and operating in the equivalent of an insane asylum Angela was in deep trouble. Even the Baronesa’s revelations’ value was problematic. It would take another scrap of the puzzle to make sense of the piece the Baronesa had provided.
As disconcerting, bizarre was not even the horizon as a norm.
Chapter 17 Prime Suspect
Angela awoke to the rumble of thunder and a heavy tropical rain. It was a perfect day to stay put and recover some from Naomi’s brilliant use of the sjambok. That semi-canard made Angela smile and reflect on Isabella’s offhand disclosure of the resort’s occasional facilitation of sexually destructive perverse desires. Frank would have to deal with that aspect in solving the remaining list’s female disappearances.
Her task had been reduced to finding the rogue pervert responsible for the rest of what was looking increasingly as a sexual slavery venture. And success might mean finding the resort guest possessing an incriminating cured bull skin pouch. The animal genital aspect was just too weird to contemplate.
Lying on her stomach, covered only in a thin sheet Angela was reluctant to move. A resort nurse was supposed to drop by and tend to her injuries. A half-hour later she became restless. Groaning, Angela began to move. It hurt, but the pain had a fighter’s motivational quality. And she wasn’t the type to stay put for long. Her options were few. She couldn’t lay there forever. She needed to work and play hurt
Not waiting for the nurse, Angela drew off the cover and made her way to the bathroom. On the way she started the room coffee pot to perking and grabbed another report from Jack’s provided portfolio. A soaking hot bath, cup of coffee and Jack’s perverse assessment would set the tone for the day.
As the tub finished filling, Angela completed her toilet and poured a steaming cup of coffee. Turning off the water, she added a vile of scented oil and slowly lowered her aching body into the hot water’s embrace. Picking up the manila folder, rain and wind assaulting the cracked bathroom window, she leaned back and began to read Gretchen’s story.
For Angela Wells’ eyes only
Victim: Gretchen Richter
Age: 49
Particulars: Two marriages, three grown children
Occupation: Socialite
Known Sexual Inclination/Practices: Second husband introduced her to BDSM, associated sex clubs and found a ready participant.
Angela: Contrary to the other cases we know of, Gretchen was sent to the resort you are at by her husband. He enjoyed watching her in rough and dirty sex scenes. Under interrogation he admitted to flying and staying separately and watching her seek out scenes to be used harshly. According to him she accepted his desires as her own, and thrived in the nastiest of situations. The resort’s security staff (you’ve probably met them by now) agreed that all was as normal as can be during her stay. Evidently reaching some kind of personal epiphany Gretchen took matters in her own hands and fell under our man’s persuasive influence.
As it seems before, the victim was apparently drawn into setting up a secret rendezvous after probably meeting the target predator at the resort. She is (was?) a German national and had been a regular attendee during the resort’s S&M themed weeks. Her disappearance occurred during the winter exactly three weeks after returning from their latest vacation at the resort. Her husband had become comfortable with her going to a local sex club alone. At midnight when she had not returned he became concerned and called the authorities. She hadn’t showed up at the club or at other like establishments in the area.
Of course the husband was a prime suspect, but he was cleared of any suspicions. By having dinner with three executives in his company proved to be an airtight alibi. As an ind
ustrialist, I believe he was in a position to make sure that media and police attention died down quickly. There were rumors that she was entertaining at a compound somewhere in the old Soviet empire. One of the ‘stans’ I believe. It is very difficult to visit, much less seek answers in such an uncivilized environment.
That’s it. Oh, yes I did meet her. It was only briefly at a Medieval themed scene. I will never forget the depiction of sexual cruelty counterpoised against compliant beauty. It was only a fantasy play, but I sensed a deeply feminine capacity for suffering dark lusts in her. I’m betting she took a chance on an opportunity to experience a once-upon-a-time fairytale of evil played out against a background of pain-pleasure induced passions.
As before, I hope this helps.
All of my lust is yours, Jack
Too many coincidences were setting off alarm bells that reduced the throbbing pain in Angela’s haunches and sex to insignificance. Drawn into this perverse operation by Jack, was this where her erotic propensity was leading? Why did she feel carnal stirrings of obscene fascination with the fates of these women? She couldn’t let her unruly desires get the better of her sense of right. Angry, she was sure there was a trap waiting for her to walk compliantly into. Whether set by her now prime suspect Jack or someone else, from the start of this operation Angela was not only a naked lure, she was not-by-chance the primary target of the predator she had been charged with bringing down.
Gaining a semblance of control, Angela got out of the tub and limped out onto the room’s exposed balcony and into the continuing down pour. The surprisingly cold tropical rain quenched a smoldering aberrant sexual heat. Facing reality produced real fear.
Reduced from shouting challenges, Angela whispered, “If I’m not careful, this is really going to be the end of me.”