A shadow fell
over them, and she stared up into Gabor's dark eyes. He took Kay's
place, the vibrator weaving a magic spell over Julia's clitoris,
plunging into her channel, twisting, then withdrawing and entering
her anus. She could feel the sensations mounting, but couldn't
quite reach the peak.
'Stay with me,
Mr Gabor,' she pleaded. 'Take me away from here, somewhere we can
be alone. I only want you.'
At once he
withdrew, leaving her bereft, empty. 'Do you dare question me?' he
asked. 'I have given my orders and you will carry them out.'
'Don't be
angry,' she begged. 'Forgive me...'
He moved away,
she saw a sudden movement, and pain ripped through her thighs as he
lashed her with the riding crop. Too stunned to cry, she heard the
whip whistle and she jerked, the lash landing across her belly. His
arm rose again, and this time she screamed as the fiery tip of the
crop struck her pubis.
Through the
mists of pain she heard him say, 'Now she's ready for you, Senor
Lopez.'
'Screw her...
fuck her... whip her again...' the watching guests chanted
rhythmically, and the wave of lust emanating from them was
frighteningly tangible.
'See to him,'
Vincent Gabor ordered, handing Kay a prophylactic.
Lopez stood
with his flies open and Kay rolled on the condom. His erect penis
was of extremely large proportions.
He positioned
himself between Julia's spread legs, and she looked up into his
swarthy face and shuddered at his brutal expression. A string of
saliva hung from his slack lips, and his rank breath fanned her
cheek. His eyes were reptilian, soulless and black as pitch. Taking
his enormous cock in one hand, he ran the helm over Julia's exposed
sex lips, and then returned to prod her anus. Perspiration beaded
her brow, and for one dreadful moment she thought he intended to
stretch and breach this narrow passage, but he returned to her
clit, massaging it with the large, smooth, purple head.
If she kept
her eyes tight shut she could almost imagine it to be Vincent
attempting penetration. She strained up for Lopez, urging him
closer, but regretted it instantly as he succeeded in pushing his
huge helm into her.
'Ooohhh...'
she whimpered, her eyes opening, seeing his face like a pockmarked
moon looming above her.
He grinned and
wedged his cock in further, the foreskin slipping right back over
that monstrous head. Here it stuck. She was wet, but he was huge,
out of all proportion to the size of her vagina. She'd not be able
to accommodate him without discomfort. Her welts hurt, her pubic
mound was sore, but Lopez obviously cared nothing for this. In
fact, the more discomfort his massive tool caused the more aroused
he seemed to become. He thrust again and gained ground, his glans
sinking further. He shifted her on the bed impatiently, as if she
was nothing more than a rubber sex-doll. He angled her hips,
already raised by the pillows, her wrists and ankles chafed by the
bindings.
Clearly
inspired by her murmured requests for leniency, he rutted harder.
Julia felt as if she was being rent asunder, appalled by his
selfish haste. He was almost embedded within her, but not entirely,
his weapon too long and too thick. Three-quarters in and he was
butting her cervix. She felt stuffed, the pressure too great to be
pleasurable. She tried to draw back from him, but was too tightly
impaled and too well bound. Her struggles undoubtedly spurred him
on. He muttered something in Spanish, the veins standing out on his
bull neck, his face red and sweating.
His fat hips
pistoned and he suddenly sank fully into her, stabbing her to the
vitals, his wiry black bush meeting her soft down with a jar that
reverberated through her body. She thought she might faint with
intolerable shame at having the ugly brute ravishing her for his
own gratification, and at having so many witnesses to her
ravishment. Indeed, she prayed that she would faint; anything to
escape his suffocating weight, body odour, and savage, animal
brutality.
Lopez snorted.
He pumped his organ in and out, transported by lust. Julia,
flattened beneath him, could do nothing but endure. With fierce
shunts he rammed at her, his movements becoming more and more
erratic until he reached the point of no return. He came, grunting
like a pig, neck arched, his eyes rolled hideously up in their
sockets with nothing but the whites showing.
Through her
disgust Julia rejoiced; it was over. She became aware of comments
of approval and people crowding in, drinking in every moment of her
ravishment by Lopez. He heaved his bulk from her, got to his feet
and, with a proud smile, took a bow. His semi-flaccid, latex-coated
dick started to lift under so much praise, the tip, full and heavy
with his seed, sagging down and swinging as he raised his arms in
appreciation of the crowd's adulation. In an instant he was
surrounded by a bevy of beauties, all eager to make him fully erect
again. They drew him away, out of Julia's sight.
'And what was
your little friend doing on the catwalk?' asked Theona Blue. 'I
thought she was a reporter, not a model.'
She and Will were immersed in the square sunken bathtub in her
suite at the
Majestic
Hotel
. Dumpy perfumed candles were ranged
round the sides, their glimmer reflected in mirror tiles. He sat at
one end of it and she at the other. As she talked her toes found
his balls and wriggled against them. He could feel the blood
surging warmly into his groin and his cock poked its head through
the bath foam, a creature seeking its nest.
She had sought
him out after the cocktail party, invited him to the rooms that had
been placed at her disposal, and the rest had taken its natural
course. They hadn't fucked yet, but it was only a matter of
time.
'Julia's
always wanted to be a model,' he answered cautiously, though
discretion was getting difficult to maintain. The more her naughty
toes toyed with his balls, the more his resolution to keep silent
faded under the desire for relief.
'And there's
nothing more to it?' Theona probed, smiling inscrutably, her tawny
hair piled on top of her head, perfect breasts and shoulders rising
from the soapy bubbles, nipples peaking invitingly. 'She's not hot
on the trail of some sensational story, then?'
'Well...
maybe,' he conceded, opening his legs and sliding them each side of
hers, so that she was encased and unable to do other than continue
her frottage of his testicles.
She reached
for the crystal champagne flute standing on the tiled surround and
lifted it to her lips. 'Come along, tell auntie all about it,' she
urged. 'Who knows? I may be able to help. There's nothing goes on
in and around the entertainment business that I don't get to hear
about.'
Could she be
of assistance? Although Will's body was responding to her, his mind
was still razor-sharp. He hardly knew her, had only met her that
one time in Cornwall, but they had struck up an instant rapport,
two wily contenders in the battle of life. Bored with the cocktail
party, and losing sight of Julia, he hadn't hesitated when she'd
invited him to her room. Both of them knew what they wanted - raw,
uncomplicated sex, but if more than that developed, then all well
and good.
'She's always
fancied her chances as a model,' he repeated, unable to stop
himself from reaching out and fondling her nipples. They reminded
him of rosebuds in the snow.
Theona looked
sceptical. 'Oh yes?' she said. 'Are you sure there's nothing else
behind it? If there is, I may be able to help.'
He could feel
himself melting into the bath water. He wanted to be that single
shining bubble on her right nipple. Nothing else was important. She
was stunning, her skin a suntanned joy to behold, her hair, her
eyes, everything about her making her the most desirable of women.
'Um, how come you were singing at the party?' he prevaricated.
'Vincent asked
me to. I managed to squeeze the gig into my schedule.'
'Vincent
Gabor?' he said. 'You know him?'
'Oh yes, we go
way back,' she confirmed.
'How
come?'
Theona shifted
position, getting to her knees, one thigh clasping each side of his
belly. She rose from the water like a naiad, her body glistening,
her nipples crimping. She braced her hands on his shoulders as he
lay back against the bath. His upwardly mobile cock nudged her
entrance. She lowered her hips, and her pussy lips parted. Will
felt her slide down on his cock, engulfing him.
She giggled
and moved in a circular motion, her inner walls clasping his
erection. 'I'm filled with bathwater, and you,' she purred. Then
she stilled, resting her weight on his lower belly and looking down
into his eyes. 'You want to know how I know Vincent? It's a long
story, babe. Let's get more comfortable.'
With that she
released him, his cock slipping out of her as she stood up and
climbed out of the tub. Hot on the trail of clues, as well as her
cunt, Will followed. She ran ahead of him, her feet leaving damp
imprints in the deep pile carpeting. The bedroom was as sybaritic
as the rest of the suite and when he reached it, Theona was already
installed on the regency four-poster bed. It had fluted columns, a
tester drawn up into a central rose, with red and white striped
drapes hanging from it. Gilded plaster ostrich feathers sprang from
the top of each post.
Theona patted
the space beside her and Will stretched his still-wet body on the
duvet. She leaned over him, her hair dripping on his chest. She
tangled her fingers in the matted hair coating his pectorals, and
scratched his nipples with her nails. Will could feel himself going
quietly crazy under these ministrations. He had to have her. There
were no ifs or buts. But it seemed she wanted to play games,
tormenting him into a fever of desire.
'Theona,' he
gasped. 'Straddle me as you did in the bath.'
She chuckled
deep in her throat and placed her fingers over his lips. He opened
his mouth and sucked them in, tasting soap, and pretending he was
slurping at her delta. 'Not yet,' she teased. 'I thought you wanted
to hear about Vincent and me?'
He sighed and
resigned himself to waiting for her. 'I do,' he said.
'Well then,
listen up and listen good,' she ordered, her body pressed into his
side, his hand roving her breasts and dipping down to her pussy. 'I
met him when I was struggling to get a singing career together. I
wanted to sing opera, would you believe? My parents had both been
classical musicians and, if there'd been enough money, they would
have sent me to Italy to be trained. Unfortunately, there wasn't.
Dad died and mother soldiered on, though never recovering from his
loss. They fought like cat and dog, professionally jealous of one
another, but she couldn't live without him. You've heard of people
dying of a broken heart?' Will nodded. 'Well, that's what happened
to her.'
She sounded
sad, her guard - that feisty front with which she faced her public
- lowered. Will wanted to pet her, to draw her head down to his
shoulder and simply hold her like a friend, silently offering his
support. But even under the stress of that moment, his cock
remained engorged.
'I'm sorry,'
he said, for want of better words.
'That's okay,'
she said with a sniff. 'I'm not about to bore you with details of
my early life, simply to say that I met Vincent around this time.
He became like a surrogate father, although I was twenty. He
suggested he might send me to singing teachers and use his
influence to help me enter contests, but I rather think it was too
late for me by then. Besides, he wasn't sincere. He saw he could
make money out of me in other ways.'
Will stroked
her back soothingly. 'I can't imagine him doing anything without a
motive,' he said.
'Too true,' she agreed, and stroked a hand over his belly,
finding and grasping his cock. 'He let me sing all right, but it
was in the
Merrymen Club
. He owns it.'
'Does he?'
Will said thoughtfully, though his concentration was wavering as
she played a sensual tune on his eager instrument. 'But that's a
sleazy strip joint, isn't it?'
'Oh yes, a
very sleazy strip joint. He won't admit his involvement in it, but
he's the boss. You can get anything there; women, male prostitutes,
drugs.'
'So I've
heard. And did you ever have to do anything but sing?' Unable to
resist, he stroked her breasts and, lifting his head from the
pillow, licked the stone-hard nipples.
'He wanted me
to, suggested that I entertain some of his clients with more than a
song. By that time I was completely under his influence. He'd
taught me the language of the whip, how to enjoy pain and through
it, to obtain the heights of pleasure. He was my master, my lord,
my mentor. He obsessed me, and I was in love for the very first
time. I didn't want to disobey him, but a steely core inside me
insisted that I could do better for myself.'
'You were very
brave; he's a formidable man, by the sound of it,' Will said,
almost losing his erection as he thought of Julia, who was even now
in Gabor's hands. He wanted to get her out of the man's clutches
without further delay, but knew he'd have to be patient. 'What did
you do?'
'By that time
I was in with the members of the band. They were an ambitious
bunch, using the club as a steppingstone to higher things. They
liked my singing and wanted me to go on tour with them. Their agent
was a pushy sort of a guy, and I knew they were going to do
well.'
Theona stopped
talking for a moment and dreamily closed her eyes, her breasts
rising as she breathed deeply and enjoyed his caresses. She mounted
him and began a slow, sensual circling movement, her inner muscles
embracing his penis. It was as if she didn't want to talk any more
just then, but simply enjoy the uniting of their flesh. Will, too,
was finding it hard to do other than respond to her smooth,
rhythmic ride. He was close. He placed his hand between their pubic
bones, finding her open labia and rubbing the protruding clitoris.
Whoever had taught her about love, and he assumed it to be Vincent
Gabor, he owed him one. Theona was a magnificent mistress.