Sextortion (25 page)

Grimacing as
the girl tightened the steel rings again, my breasts painfully
ballooning, I continued to suck the bitch's juices out of her hot
cunt. I was sure that my ordeal would soon be over. Studs though
they were, the men couldn't keep on forever fucking me, sperming my
lust ducts.

"Bite me!" the
bitch cried, her creamy juices decanting in torrents as her arousal
soared. "Bite my cunt lips!" Obediently complying, sinking my teeth
into her fleshy cushions, I felt the man's sperm pumping into my
quivering vagina. My body shaking violently as my clitoris exploded
in orgasm again, sending exhilarating palpitations through my
contracting womb, I knew the devil had snatched my soul.

The girl's
juices of lust streaming down my face as I bit and nibbled her sex
flesh, the gasping man's spunking cock thrusting in and out of my
burning pussy, I rode the crest of my orgasm, climbing higher to my
sexual ecstasy, sinking deeper into my debauchery. How many more
times could I come? I pondered, gasping through a mouthful of
drenched vaginal flesh. How many more orgasms would rock my naked
body?

"My clitty!"
the tart wailed as the phone continued ringing. "Bite my clitty!"
Nibbling her swollen sex button as she gasped and quivered above
me, my pleasure was heightened as two hot mouths closed over my
nipples and sucked my sore teats. Never had I known such carnal
pleasure - every nerve ending tingling, every muscle tightening as
the cock shafted my cunt and the cucumber pistoned my arse.

The girl
finally clambering off the table, I lifted my head and watched the
two men sucking on my nipples. The huge penis slipping out of my
brimming vaginal duct, the men rose from their orgy as the bitch
ordered them to dress. Resting my head on the table, my body sated
but strangely serene, I closed my eyes, sure that they were finally
leaving as the breast rings were removed.

"I'll be back
tomorrow with a surprise for you," the bitch grinned, donning her
coat as the others dressed. Helping me off the table, she pinched
my nipples. "Don't do anything silly like run away," she warned
menacingly. "You're my sex slave, Selina - remember that."

As they filed
out of the room, I waited until the front door closed before
staggering into the lounge. The small table was still by the sofa,
the polished top glistening with sperm and cunny milk. A length of
rope lay on the sofa, a stark reminder of my debauchery.

Looking down
at my weal-lined breasts, my swollen nipples, I leaned over and
gazed at my hairless vaginal lips, wondering what had become of my
femininity. I was no longer a woman - stripped of my morals,
crudely used and abused, I had no claim to femininity.

Answering the
phone, I was pleased to hear Danny, but also suspicious. Where had
he got eight hundred pounds from? Had he been with a blonde by the
common? Did he know what I'd endured in the dining room?

"Hi!" I said
as cheerily as possible.

"I've phoned
several times, Selina - where have you been?"

"I went out.
Where are you?"

"Knightsdale,
in a call box. I'm looking for another hotel - the one I stayed in
last night was dreadful. Any word from the girl?"

"No,
nothing."

"Are you OK?
You sound... I don't know, you sound different."

"I'm fine,
just a little tired."

"I'd have
thought the girl would have been in touch by now."

"So would
I."

"Selina, are
you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, of
course I am. Don't worry, things are OK. By the way, the detective
called me."

"Oh?"

"He wants me
to ring him the next time the girl is due to come here. I don't
know what his plans are."

"I hope he
does something soon. Look, my money's running out. I'll call you
tomorrow."

"OK, and don't
worry."

Replacing the
receiver, I thought about the detective. Should I call him the next
time the bitch rang? No, she wouldn't ring, she had a key. She
could arrive at any time and let herself in. At least I wasn't
handcuffed, and I wondered whether to go away, stay with Chrissy
for a while. Danny was safe, and if I went away... But they had
photographs, video tapes - all the evidence they needed to ensure
that I remained forever obedient.

My weals stinging, I took a shower, cleansing my naked body,
my spermed holes. I'd go out for a walk, I decided, washing the
spunk from my face, my hair. Go for a long walk and contemplate my
life, where it was taking me. What was life? I asked myself,
lathering my hair. I'd followed a path, a flower-lined path seeking
love and happiness. But I'd been led astray, coaxed off the path to
follow another into the darkness of a forest where Lucifer waited.
His horns were erect phalluses, his penis ever-solid above his
heavy balls, his face grinning as he offered me his hand. Had I
taken it? Had I reached out and taken his hand in mine?
I proffer immortality in return for your
soul
. Where was my soul?

Leaving the
shower, I dried my whipped body with a soft towel, but didn't
dress. I felt I should always be naked, my body unveiled and ready
for my abusers. In the kitchen, I made ham sandwiches, drank tea
and pondered on the darker aspects of my world. Darkness engulfed
me again, as if the sun had slipped behind a black cloud. Were
there ghosts about me, watching me? Were there ghouls scrutinizing
my nakedness?

I was too
exhausted to go for a walk, I decided. Climbing the stairs, I went
to bed, crawling beneath the quilt to conceal my nudity. Lucifer
was waiting to meet me in my dreams, I knew. He and his disciples
of sex were waiting to receive me. Would I ever wake?

With no
dreams, no nightmares, the morning came quickly. The sun rising,
pushing the night away, I rose from my bed and pondered on the new
day. More cocks, more fucking, more sperm... No, I had to make
changes. I couldn't allow the girl to rule my life, dictate to me -
own my body!

Naked, I
bounded downstairs and went out into the garden where the sun
greeted me with its warmth. I felt different without Danny around -
free, uninhibited in my nakedness. Wandering across the lawn, I sat
on the bench beneath the beech tree, gazing at the fullness of my
breasts, my erect nipples, wondering what life would be like
without Danny.

We had no sex
life anymore, no physical contact. I had my vibrator - did I need
Danny? Our relationship could hardly be called a marriage, I
decided. What difference would it make if he stayed away
permanently? My fingers toying between the soft swelling of my
outer lips as I imagined living alone, I felt my clitoris inflate
and pulsate. The urge to masturbate was overwhelming, my vibrator
calling me. I needed to come, to appease my yearning clitoris with
the buzzing phallus, bring myself off. But no, I couldn't centre my
life around sex.

Leaping to my
feet, I returned to the kitchen and filled the kettle. There was a
strange air about the house, like a presence, lurking but unseen.
Had the debauchery seeped into the walls of the building? Perhaps
the illicit acts had stirred something from the underworld, roused
interest in a sex fiend. My imagination was working overtime, I was
sure, as I poured a cup of tea.

Taking my tea
up to my den, I sat at the word processor and worked like a Trojan
for several hours. No phone calls, no visitors - at last I had some
peace! But my clitoris called, constantly begging me for my
intimate attention. As I worked, I rubbed my sex spot now and then,
appeasing it, taking myself to the verge of orgasm and then
forbidding myself the pleasure. Delighting in my naked body, I
allowed the warm sensations of sex to gently bathe me long and
languorously.

When the phone
rang at four in the afternoon, I was sure it was the bitch. My cunt
wetting, I wanted her to attend me, to lick and suck my clitoris to
orgasm, drink my juices. No! my mind screamed. No! Yes!

"Mrs Goodman,
it's Mr Wilkins," the detective announced as I lifted the receiver.
"You've obviously not heard from the girl?"

"No, nothing,"
I lied, massaging my pleasure button.

"That's
strange. I hope you don't mind my saying so, but there's something
very odd about this case."

"How do you
mean?"

"I don't know,
I can't put my finger on it. I'm fully au fait with blackmail,
taking money in return for keeping quiet, but this sex business
worries me."

"It worries
me, too!"

"Yes, of
course. Have you had any thoughts about it?"

"The girl's
selling me to men for sex. Apart from her boss demanding money,
she's..."

"Why didn't
you tell me? I can't work in the dark, Mrs Goodman."

"I did say
that two men had abused me in the woods on the common."

"Yes, but I
didn't realize that the girl was taking money from them. I think
it's high time we met and had a good chat. Are you busy right
now?"

"Er... No,
no."

"I'm on my
mobile, not far from you place. How does ten minutes suit you?"

"Yes, yes
that's fine."

"Right, see
you shortly."

Rushing
upstairs, I slipped my silk shift dress over my head and pulled it
over my naked body. I'd have to tell him everything, I decided.
There was no point in keeping secrets when he was trying to help
me. I'd have to tell him that the bitch had brought several men and
a girl to the house, and details of the sexual abuse. They'd
whipped me, fucked me, brought me massive orgasms... My clitoris
needed me.

Should I tell
him my thoughts about Danny? I pondered as I descended the stairs,
my erect nipples caressed by the sensual silk of my dress. No, he'd
think it odd that Danny had hired him if he was in league with the
tart. Danny wouldn't have hired a detective if he was working for
her - the notion was crazy! Unless, as Chrissy had said, a friend
of Danny's was posing as the detective. Would the detective abuse
me?

"We meet at
last," he smiled as I answered the door to him.

"Indeed we do,
Mr Wilkins," I replied.

"John, call me
John."

"Right, I'm
Selina. I was beginning to think that you didn't exist."

"What do you
mean?"

"Nothing. Come
through to the lounge."

He was younger
than I'd imagined, in his early thirties, and very good looking. As
he plonked himself in the armchair, I sat on the sofa, wondering
why he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt rather than a suit. He
wasn't a policeman, I reminded myself as he leaned forward and
clasped his hands. Did he fancy me? Did he want to fuck me?

"OK," he
began, his dark eyes locked to mine. "Is there anything else you
haven't told me?"

"I've often
wondered whether my husband's involved with the girl," I blurted
out.

"Your husband?
Forgive me, but why would he hire me if he was involved?"

"I don't know.
I suppose certain things fit, things that have happened that might
implicate my husband."

"I really
don't think he'd get onto me if he was working with this girl."

"You never
know."

"I suppose
not. OK, tell me everything that's happened, every detail."

Watching me
intently as I began my story, he was obviously very interested in
the details of the abuse I'd been subjected to. I told him
everything, the shaving, bondage, vaginal whipping, the men and the
younger girl coming to the house - every detail from day one. Did
my words of sex excite him? I wondered. Was he stiff? Shaking his
head as I finished my story, he rubbed his chin.

"I'm not at
all happy about this," he frowned. "If the girl's boss is into
digging up dirt on celebrities and then blackmailing them, he
wouldn't bother with prostitution."

"Why not?" I
asked. "It's all money."

"He's had
fifteen grand from you, so why bother with the odd fifty or eighty
pounds? Pimping would be too risky. Why risk advertising for
clients when he's making real money by blackmailing you? And having
the girl bring men here to... No, he wouldn't do that."

"I reckon
she's working alone, earning extra money on the side."

"Possibly.
There again, if this man's into having thugs dragging people off
the streets and tying them up in basements, he's obviously not a
very savoury character. If he found out what she was up to, God
knows what he'd do to her. No, she'd be too frightened to work on
the side."

"John, if her
boss isn't into prostitution and she's not working on the side,
then what's happening?"

"I don't know,
yet."

"I did wonder
whether she really has a boss."

"That's just
what I'm thinking. OK, if there is no boss, she's richer by fifteen
grand. But we're back to square one - why bother with prostitution?
Initially, she needed the photographs to get some real blackmail
material, but to bring clients here? And as for taking clients to
the woods on the common... It doesn't make sense, Selina."

"Where do we
go from here?" I sighed, my clitoris swelling as I stared at his
bulging jeans.

"Let's assume
that your husband is in alliance with the girl."

"He wouldn't
have called you in, would he?"

"He might, to
make you believe that he's doing everything possible to help you.
Right, let me give that some thought for a minute."

"Would you
like tea or coffee?"

"Coffee,
please - no sugar."

Leaving him
contemplating the idea, I went to the kitchen and switched the
kettle on. Danny might have called him in to cover himself, I
mused, taking a cup from the cupboard. If he misled the detective,
gave him false information... No, I couldn't see Danny going to all
that trouble. He and the bitch had fifteen thousand pounds, so why
bother with prostitution? Again, it didn't make sense. Taking my
money was one thing, but the sexual abuse?