Destroying Angel (11 page)

Suddenly he was still. ‘Stop squealing,’ he hissed. ‘You’ll alert young wet-behind-the-ears!’

‘Sorry…’ Susan said limply.

‘I’d better gag you.’

Susan waited while there was a rustle of clothing, and then her skirt was wrapped over her head and secured in place with more of the tape.

‘Can you breathe okay?’ she heard him ask. She nodded; the skirt hadn’t really gagged her, but she was happy to play along.

A finger touched between her buttocks, tracing a slow line until it found her anus. It probed the tight entrance. She gulped as the muscle relaxed, and she rocked back slightly in the hope that he’d push it right in.

‘Ready,’ she heard, as the finger disappeared. For a moment she thought he was going to bugger her, but it was her pussy to which he prodded his helmet. Again it eased into her, slowly this time, stretching her vagina and sliding deeper until it was fully embedded and she could feel the bulge of his balls against her pussy. His hands locked on her hips and he started to fuck her, slowly at first, then faster, making her grunt into the gag as his hips slapped against her bottom and his cock worked in and out of her vagina. She heard him curse. He went rigid and strained against her bottom, forcing her face uncomfortably against the wall, and then she felt his cock pulse rhythmically and his semen erupted deep inside her.

He pulled out, breathing heavily.

Unable to move, and with her thighs aching from the awkward position, she hoped he would untie her now he’d had his fun. She hadn’t come, as she knew she wouldn’t without at least some attention to her clit, but once free she intended to sit down on the toilet and relieve herself, regardless of what he thought or how dirty her bottom got. She needed it badly, but could do nothing until he chose to untie her.

Something touched her anus and she squirmed with pleasure. She relaxed the delicate muscle to assist the intruding object. It pushed in a little way and then stopped. She shivered, knowing that whatever it was it would be sticking out of her bottom, protruding obscenely from between her taut buttocks. It was a deliciously dirty thought. She eagerly anticipated the expected touch on her pussy; maybe even a tongue, if he was in a generous mood.

But nothing happened. She began to wonder what he was doing.

‘Paul?’ she mumbled uneasily, after what seemed an unreasonable period without a remark from him, or indeed any sound at all.

There was no answer.

‘Paul?’ This was getting less funny by the second. Her desire evaporated. ‘I’m getting very uncomfortable here… Paul?’

Still no response; no sound.

She turned her head, unable to see more than vague patterns of light through the layer of cotton wrapped around her head. Nothing moved within her field of vision. The bright sunlight from the collapsed roof showed enough for her to realise there was nobody there.

Berner had left her alone.

Not only had he tied her up and taken advantage of her, but he’d left her kneeling on a lavatory seat with her panties pulled down and nothing else on but wellington boots. She knew how she must look, kneeling in an obscenely blatant position, tied and gagged, her bottom stuck out and plugged by a mystery object.

She started to sob with frustration, wriggling on the seat but unable to loosen the tough tape that bound her in place. The smell of burnt wine was starting to get to her as well, strong in the warm stillness of the warehouse. She considered calling for help, but abandoned the idea. If the constable came in and found her it would be unendurably embarrassing. On the other hand he would free her… or would he? A young lad like that, presented with a helpless girl.

Remembering the thoughtless passion of Taz, Beadle and Fire Ghost, Susan decided that the temptation for the young officer would probably be overwhelming. He could do what he wanted to her and then deny it. After all, it would be obvious that Berner had left her like that, and Berner’s job would be on the line if the story got out. Yes, she decided, he might well risk it.

The realisation unsettled her, and her desperation grew. ‘Paul!’ she mumbled again, although she knew it was pointless.

She waited for what seemed like an age, moving her legs as much as the bonds allowed to ease her aching muscles. She heard a noise, and then footsteps squelching across the warehouse floor. Praying it was Berner, Susan strained to try and see over her shoulder. She started to struggle, despite knowing the futility of trying to escape.

Someone was about to find her!

There was a noise close behind and she knew someone was there – watching. She stopped squirming and stayed very still, expecting to hear a voice at any moment.

Nothing; not even an exclamation of surprise.

She started to wonder at his intentions, or whether it was Berner tormenting her.

The sound of a zip answered at least half her question.

Susan started to tremble, waiting, completely at the mercy of whoever was there. The object in her rear passage was pulled slowly out, and she sensed that the mystery man was intending to replace it immediately with his own object. She was going to be buggered while tied and kneeling on a toilet seat, an act that would be incredibly humiliating for her. She waited, expecting the swollen tip of a penis to push between her buttocks and touch her anus at any moment.

The man seemed to be taking a long time but, just as Susan had decided he might have thought better of it, something did touch her. Relief mingled with disappointment as the firm roundness of a man’s cock touched not her anus but her pussy. The cock was rubbed in her wetness, just as Berner had done, making Susan wonder if it was him. Then it penetrated her with one long thrust and she didn’t care any more.

Hands curled around her body and weighed her breasts as the silent stranger started to fuck her with steady powerful strokes. Her back dipped and her head flopped in ecstasy as the hands worked on her breasts and fingers pinched her erect nipples. Her pleasure was mounting inexorably, and then she moaned her despair as the man suddenly and silently came and immediately pulled out.

Once more she was left alone, sobbing in frustration. She was pretty certain it had been Berner again, and she silently cursed his chauvinistic selfishness.

This time the wait was shorter. Footsteps sounded behind her only a minute or so later.

‘Sorry I was so long,’ Berner said in a tone of cheerful unconcern. ‘I wanted to get something to paddle your backside with, but this place is remarkably clean for a trading estate. Still, I found a nice piece of wood in a skip. It’s not too dirty. Oh, and I’ve got my camera.’

Susan could only whimper as she was photographed in her utterly humiliating pose. The camera clicked several times before he was satisfied. There was a pause, and then something hard smacked gently across her bottom.

‘Nice?’ Berner asked.

Susan hung her head in meek acceptance of her beating, past caring and knowing that when she did come it was going to be an orgasm to end all orgasms. Her thighs and arms ached and her pussy was sore, but the whole experience was just too good to end before she had come. The piece of wood smacked across her bottom again, rather harder. Susan wiggled her bottom for more, the third and still harder smack catching her full across her cheeks.

Berner’s body touched her flank, a hand curling under her belly to find her pussy. Susan sighed in bliss. He was going to frig her while he beat her; the perfect way to come. His fingers started to rub her clit as he brought the wood down on her bottom again. She could feel her bottom bounce as the wood struck, her buttocks wobbling under the punishment. Her muscles strained against the bonds, adding to the bliss of being beaten and masturbated at the same time.

‘Would you like me to talk to you?’ Berner asked. ‘To tell you how fat your bottom is and how rude you look with your cheeks spread? I can see your little arsehole and your shaved cunt-lips, Susie. That reminds me, where’s that lipstick I put in your arse to keep you amused while I was gone? Ah, here, a bit dirty, but that won’t matter.’

Susan felt the lipstick being pushed into her anus. She groaned as it popped in, not just from the pleasure of having it put in her bottom, but also at the thought of how rude it must look. Berner put his hand back under her belly and found her clit as the wood smacked against her bottom again. She knew it wouldn’t be long as he started to rub. The smacks were hard but no longer hurt as much, a sure sign that she was going to come soon.

She started to buck, pushing her bottom back and squirming frantically to get better friction against his fingers. He sniggered arrogantly and the beating became harder, faster, taking Susan to the brink. A rhythm started, his rubs and smacks working in unison. Her muscles spasmed. She tensed, trying to scream but unable to. She needed to kick and squirm but the bonds wouldn’t let her. Then it came, a rush of pleasure that exploded in her clitoris and ran through every nerve in her body. For an instant she was incredibly sensitive, aware of the heat between her legs, her anus tight around the intruding lipstick, her bottom throbbing and hot, her spine arched into a tight curve, her wrists and ankles lashed and straining. Bright lights exploded in her head, and then everything went dark.

It was over, and she hung limp in her bonds. Every muscle in her body ached as Berner started to loosen the tape.

‘Thank you,’ she gasped as her skirt was pulled clear of her head. ‘That was really special.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ Berner said as he pulled the lipstick out of her bottom.

Paul Berner walked across the gutted warehouse with a grin that ran from ear to ear. Behind him Susan picked her way carefully through the debris. He turned to catch a shy, abashed look and a little smile, which made his grin broader than ever. Underneath her skirt he knew she was bare.

The thought sent a pulse to his cock, despite his recent orgasm. Susan was so lovely – and dirty beyond his wildest hopes. Not only that, but she was his until the Fire Ghost investigation was over, maybe longer. Her ideas about a link between the fire, the death of Alan Sowerby, and some sort of wine scandal interested him, although they were hard to take seriously. On the other hand, during the time they had served together, he had learnt to respect her knack of spotting when something dodgy was going on.

The young PC gave them a curious look as they came out of the warehouse. Berner returned a formal nod, and caught a questioning glance from Susan. He shook his head and smiled, knowing exactly what the question was. He got into his car, drove to front gate, and waited for Bob Tweed to raise the security barrier.

He looked back, smiling to himself as Susan’s black Rover pulled up behind him. He watched her look at Tweed, and Tweed smile back; not his normal leer but a knowing, satisfied smirk. Paul Berner’s grin broadened as he saw Susan’s mouth drop open, her cheeks blush a furious red, and realisation dawn in her lovely wide eyes.

Susan slid down in the bath until the water was
up to her chin. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to concentrate on the delicious feeling of Paulette massaging her thigh muscles. Her tension faded slowly under her friend’s fingers.

Five minutes later, feeling warm and relaxed, she told Paulette to listen and concentrated on the ideas she had formed while at de Vergy Fine Wines.

‘This is my reasoning,’ she began. ‘Firstly, the whole idea rests on Sowerby’s refusal to believe that certain wines were what they claimed to be. That presumably means they were watered or adulterated in some way. Therefore the original fraud must have occurred at the point of production. Annabella’s outfit is distributing the wines, not producing them, but our reasoning demands that Sowerby’s death, our following his investigation up and the fire are somehow linked. I also discovered that the brandy pallet that exploded had been delivered before we spoke to Annabella, and that Ruddock left some minutes after Annabella on the Sunday evening. Okay?’

‘So far,’ Paulette answered.

‘So, this is the theory. A producer in France is making bad wine, presumably very cheaply. They then make an agreement with de Vergy Fine Wines to import and distribute it. Sowerby gets onto it and is poisoned, to prevent him exposing the scam. Annabella and Ruddock decided to quit and destroy the evidence, so they imitate a Fire Ghost attack and destroy the warehouse and all the adulterated wine. Believe me, what’s left isn’t going to yield much to analysis.’

‘Are you sure Annabella’s in on it?’ Paulette queried.

‘Not necessarily. What I don’t know yet is whether Annabella takes an active part in the buying and handling of the wines, or if Ruddock does all of that and she just heads the company. If he does, then she might not be involved at all, but simply have told him about our visit. The presence of the brandy might be coincidence, but more probably it indicates that he, or they, intended to fire the warehouse and brought the date forward when they discovered our interest. True, destroying the warehouse immediately after we’d shown an interest looks suspicious, but with Sowerby dead and all the evidence destroyed, they would be safe from prosecution regardless.’

‘So the trail’s pretty dead at this end,’ Paulette put in.

‘Yes, but not in France. I only found two addresses in the remains of the warehouse: the brandy supplier, who is a big British wholesaler of Greek brandy, and a co-op in the Loire valley which produces several wines.’