Tombstone (14 page)

Tombstone left her lying over the table, sobbing at her failure.
 
He walked into the other room and sat in the chair, staring blankly into the fireplace.
 
A few minutes later, she walked quietly out of the room, her tears shining her masked cheeks.
 
She knelt in front of him and reached trembling fingers towards his zipper, only to have his hands grip her wrists and pull them away.
 
Tombstone pulled her head onto his thigh and stroked her head.
 
She could feel the dulled sensation of comfort through the plastic, and she cried quietly.
 
“Perhaps I was wrong about you.”

No.
 
Oh, no.
 
No, you’re not.
 
She quivered and tried to force her head up.
 
The sullen man left her kneeling by his chair while he prepared their dinner.
 
Felicity choked down her dinner, panicking that he would turn her back to the despair of the streets.

After supper, Tombstone rose and looked into her eyes.
 
“Remain silent and still.”

Felicity was bent back over the table, and she tried to control her quivering while he brushed her nipples and fucked her pussy.
 
Although her pussy clenched tightly against him, she managed to control her urge to push into him and only a small gasp escaped her lips.
 
After Tombstone erupted, he left her needy and leaking, with her swollen clit begging for his touch.

“Keep your legs spread,” he ordered.

He walked to the fireplace and returned with a stiff reed.
 
Before Felicity could prepare herself, he swiped it down on her reddened nub.
 
She shrieked and convulsed into orgasm.
 
Oh…oh god.
 
Marcus had never brought her so much pain.
 
It was incredible, and after the initial shock of the blow wore off, she spread her legs again.

“No, girl.
 
I already told you, this must be earned.
 
You do not demand with me.”

Felicity knelt on the floor by the sawhorses, grinding her bruised pussy against her thighs and trying to relive the painful lash.
 
Tombstone wrestled the pine box off the stanchions, and a few moments later he returned from the other room, rolling another casket on a dolly.
 
On the side, it read Room Four, and Felicity smiled around her gag.

This casket was slightly larger, though it did not contain any padding.
 
The hard surface was embedded with little chains and clamps.
 
One reached up between her legs, and Felicity felt the wonderful agony of the chain pinched to her clit.
 
Two more cinched onto her nipples, secured to the sides of the box.
 
The torture was delicious, and Felicity thanked him with her emerald eyes before he closed the lid and sealed her into darkness.

She awoke to the cool air of the lid opened, and she was unclipped causing an extremely painful rush when blood seeped into the trapped tissue.
 
Felicity was beginning to understand what a true Master was.
 
This man tortured her with denial as well as tormenting games.

In the afternoon, she was placed back in her coffin.
 
Tombstone sealed her eyes into darkness with the patches. She felt the box being lifted and rolled on the gurney.
 
When the bottom made an abrasive, sliding sound, she envisioned the hearse.
 
The drive seemed to take a while, and then she felt the box scraping back out of the car onto the dolly and rolled once more.
 
She felt the fresh air of the lid opened, and her arms were gripped while she was lifted out of the casket.
 
There were hands guiding her steps and she heard a door close.

When Tombstone removed her blindfold, Felicity stared at a duplicate room from the ‘Mannequin Closet’ stages at the old club.
 
He steered her in front of the sign on the wall.
 
‘Mannequins expect to be tipped proportionately to the act you wish them to portray.
 
Room Four Prices: Upper body configurations are two lashes, facial configurations are four, and lower body configurations are six.
 
Mannequins will remain fixed in the position you place them in.’

Tombstone’s deep steady voice informed her, “The clients will place the appropriate chit in the box.
 
They will be instructed to tell me if you move or make a sound.
 
If you move, four lashings will be deducted.
 
If you speak, two will be deducted.
 
If you do not earn at least ten lashes, you will be demoted to Room Five.”
 
Tombstone laid her on the stage and left the room.

Felicity was terrified… not of the display that Tombstone had ordered, but at the thought of her ultimate failure.
 
She lay shivering on the stage, and felt the rubber bands of her suit digging into the skin under her breasts while she panted.
 
Nipples, pebbled hard and jutting towards the blue muted light in the ceiling, were not the only indication of her building arousal.
 
Her pussy was leaking down onto the hard wood beneath her.

Felicity forced herself to continue to stare at the ceiling when she heard the door open and close.
 
This was it.
 
This was the debut that her mother was never called to audition for.
 
A sheen of nervous perspiration rose on her creamy flesh, wilting the curls under her mask and leaking through the pores in the latex.

The first man was older, with a slightly saddened expression on his face.
 
He leaned down and brushed her rubber coated cheeks in an abject, gentle stroke.
 
Felicity heard more than felt the sensation, as the insulation from the plastic still kept covered areas numb to external touch.

Jonathan stared at the pretty green eyes fixed on some distant point above her.
 
This was Tombstone’s prize.
 
Word had spread quickly through the upper ranks of the private membership, and he was honored when the gravedigger approached him to be her first customer.
 
It was curious that the very treatment suffered by Twin Pain was what this girl would crave.
 
He thought of the constant struggle his Stanley had through life, and he felt sorry for the young woman before him whose very breath betrayed her excitement.
 
What sad upbringing could lead her to find such erotic pleasure in torture?

In the time the twins had been sequestered at his estate, Jonathan had managed a quick sexual release with Pleasure.
 
He continued to avoid Pain, and even Michael had changed his tortures for her to more exotic lines rather than harsh whippings.
 
Jonathan had an interesting discussion with his son over drinks, when Michael admitted he had come to the conclusion that Pain had given something to Stanley that the family never had.
 
Without knowledge of his sickly brother’s limitations, she had regarded Stanley as if he were normal instead of coddling him.
 
For the only time in his short life, Stanley had been treated like a man.

Felicity watched the man’s eyes with wary anticipation.
 
Why isn’t he doing something?
 
He must know I’m not allowed to move.
 
Felicity pressed her fingertips into the plank flooring, hoping the man would not notice her tendons constricting.
 
What if he thinks I’m repulsive?
 
What if he doesn’t want me?
 
She was relieved to hear a zipper being lowered, and she exhaled a held breath.

Jonathan turned her head to the side and slid his half erect cock into the ring gag.
 
He lifted one of her arms and formed her fingers into a cup around his sack.
 
While she slicked his shaft with her tongue, her fingers squeezed and touched gently around his wrinkled bag.
 
She fervently hoped he would not report her movement, but she doubted even her oral skills could achieve the task without the additional caress.
 
He must have been pleased, because he began massaging her breasts.
 
Gently at first, and as his rod thickened, his fingers became urgently fierce.
 
Before long, he was thrusting full staff into her mouth and squeezing her nipples, causing her excruciating pleasure.

It took all her concentration to keep her hips still while the man pounded deep into her mouth, until he grabbed the back of her mask and buried himself just past the gagging reflex at the back of her throat.
 
Faster he thrust, and his breath became rasping and wheezing.
 
Felicity recognized the sound of a failing heart and her mind was in turmoil.

She would forego the four lashes her body cried out for.
 
Felicity shifted position onto her stomach, facing him and placing her hands on his ass to hold his hips still.
 
She worked her head back and forth, taking him deeper into her mouth than she could facing sideways.
 
When Jonathan realized her intention, he stopped fighting the movement of his pelvis and let her control the motion.
 
His wheezing breaths had become raspy, and he appreciated the girl’s sensitivity to provide the physical motion.
 
She moved one hand back to his sack, pulling and coaxing while tentatively squeezing the small elusive marbles.
 
She sensed his hands caressing her and felt his trembling fingers run over the bared flesh of her shoulder blades.

At last he came in small jerking squirts, groaning in a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction.
 
Jonathan zipped up while the girl stared up at him.
 
His hand cupped her desensitized rubber chin and he smiled.
 
As Pain had done for Stanley, this girl had let him be a man one last time.
 
He dropped the chit into the box and never mentioned to Tombstone that the girl had moved.

Felicity rolled onto her back and stared at the blue light again.
 
She thought the old man would not report her, and she felt somewhat calmed with her impetuous decision.
 
When the door opened and closed again, she found herself alone with the man who had come to see Tombstone to deliver the adhesive.

Donald had noticed Jonathan’s satisfied smile.
 
It was the first time he had seen the sparkle in his old friend’s eyes since Stanley had died.
 
Donald was well aware of the mind-fucking psychological trip Tombstone was playing, though whether it was for Felicity’s benefit or Jerald Fry’s, Donald was unsure.

He had left Claudine standing by Tombstone, knowing she would be more than ready for him to return to her.
 
The gravedigger continued to make her nervous.
 
Donald was used to positioning Claudine when she had been bound in the solid latex suit before the solvent had loosened up.
 
He turned Felicity on all fours facing the back wall and he studied her clenching leaking slit.
 
She was as passionate as his own mannequin.

Donald’s cock was ready to burst from the arousing travels around the club and watching some of the permanent displays.
 
This was a quiet night, and although Felicity did not know it, only Jonathan and Donald were invited to attend.
 
Donald noted that Tombstone was being carefully discriminate on who would use this girl.
 
He slid his erection into her ass and rocked into her tight warmth.

Ummm… oh, yes.
 
Felicity forced herself to stare at the dark wall through half-closed eyes and remain still.
 
As with the other day, the man rolled into a comfortable motion that lacked the passionate slamming she needed to feel fulfilled.
 
However, using her bottom added the slight infliction of pain to keep her pussy clasping in hungry need.

She felt his cock drive into her bowels, the friction pressing against her pussy walls and reminding her of its emptiness.
 
There were still three more displays, and Felicity was certain she had passed this test.
 
A few minutes later, the man gripped her hips and pulled her back into him while he jerked his release deep inside her.
 
Felicity watched him drop the chits into the box while he composed himself and left the room.
 
She returned to her waiting position on her back.

A few minutes later, a huge black man walked in and Felicity remembered him from the club in California.
 
He had been with Tombstone when she had been collected.
 
Jude rubbed his hands together and flashed his wide smile.
 
Without ceremony, he knelt between her legs and spread her thighs.
 
His long flat pink tongue jutted from his lips and Felicity’s nervous stare watched him lower.

Oh… oh, shit.
 
Her slit was dripping with her cream and her nerve endings were raw with desire.
 
Felicity squeezed her eyes closed and tried to concentrate on anything other than the liquid muscle stroking her cleft.
 
It darted in and out of her pussy, flicking madly against her clit.
 
Her thighs and pelvic muscles tightened and she tried to quiet her trembling.
 
Oh, shit.

Jude was in heaven, sequestered between pale banded thighs and using his thick fingers to spread her delicate moist pink petals.
 
He received almost as much pleasure torturing the young women to the brink of climax as he did when he sought out an immobile rubber mannequin to plunge his cock into.
 
He felt her core begin to spasm and he rose.
 
The giant turned and silently slipped the chits into the box.