Untouchable (30 page)

Harry sheds his clothes, draping his trousers carefully over the back of the chair. I note with amusement he’s wearing those stretchy metal bands to hold up his socks. How very old school.

He runs a hand over my tight-fitting dress. ‘Let’s get this off, shall we?’ I smile, turning my back so he can unzip me. But he nods at Janine. ‘Let her do it.’

Janine, naked, strolls over. Deftly strips me to my underwear.

‘And the rest,’ orders Harry.

I face her and she kisses me on the mouth. No tongues. Just going through the motions, but there’s still something hard, even aggressive in it. She runs both hands down the curve of my back, releasing my bra, then, tucking her fingers into my panties, shoves them downwards.

Harry watches as she pushes me back on the bed, spreading my legs and kneeling between them. She kisses me again, hungrily – or at least with a show of hunger. I see Harry’s eyes fixed on the pair of us, one hand caressing his growing erection.

Janine abandons my mouth and moves to my breasts, her tongue circling then engulfing each nipple, teasing each between her lips before moving her head down between my legs. In one deft movement she finds my clitoris and I gasp in surprise. Every working girl knows you only simulate oral; anything more is time-consuming and pointless – clients don’t have the patience to wait for the recipient to actually get off.

Janine lifts her eyes briefly and looks into mine. Then takes my clit between her perfect teeth and gives it a sharp little nip. I yelp in pain, only just managing to disguise it as a gasp of pleasure.

The bloody bitch. The corners of Janine’s mouth lift as she sits up. Revenge, I think. Her own little payback for getting her into all this.

‘Actually I have something much more interesting in mind for her.’ Janine turns to Harry. ‘Remember what I said she enjoyed?’

She reaches down, locating the bag I tucked under the foot of the bed. Takes out the handcuffs. They’re the plastic kind made for sex play, only strong enough to give an illusion of restraint.

She hands one to Harry and grabs my arm, motioning him to take the other. They attach one end of each handcuff around my wrists. Janine goes to clip the other to the headboard, but Harry shakes his head.

‘The other way round.’

Janine looks at him for a moment, then grasps his meaning. She rolls me over on to my stomach and threads the handcuff through the lattice. Harry follows suit. Now I’m forced to crouch on my knees, arse sticking up into the air.

I hear Janine going back to the bag. She passes the blindfold over my eyes and the world goes dark. As she slips the gag into my mouth, I’m filled with a flood of anxiety. What if I have an asthma attack?

Steady, Grace. Breathe through your nose. I force myself to inhale slowly, calmly. I give the handcuffs a tentative tug, feel them cut into my wrists. Hell. They may be only for show, but now it comes to it, I’m no longer sure I could get out of them.

This is all going exactly as you intended, I try to reassure myself. But suddenly I realize how vulnerable I am. How easy it would be for Janine to abandon the plan and do whatever she thinks will serve her best.

A hot rush of fear. This is crazy. I’m completely trapped.

I turn my head towards Janine, wishing I could say something, hear her response. Does she really understand how much rides on this? Did I explain it all well enough?

Did she even believe me?

The first sting of the whip on my bare flesh makes me flinch. The second prompts a cry of pain, muffled by the wodge of material between my teeth.

The lash cuts into my arse again. I bite down hard on the gag and blink back sudden tears. Is Janine doing this? Or Harry?

Four, five, six. I count the blows, seven, eight, nine, ten.

The skin on my bottom is glowing, throbbing. Jesus, it hurts. How does anybody get off on this shit?

‘My turn,’ I hear Janine’s voice. Harry hands over the whip. The sound of a condom packet being ripped open between his teeth.

‘Go on,’ he urges Janine, and I feel another sharp sting. ‘Out of the way,’ Harry commands.

The next sensation is his cock pushing inside me. Hard. I’m not wet and have no time to accommodate his considerable size, so it’s painful. I draw away instinctively, but Harry grips my shoulders, driving himself into me more forcefully.

Christ, I think, with another jolt of fear. What if he grabs my hair? I never thought of that. I keep my head low, submissive. Harry screws me for a minute or so more then groans, collapsing on to my back.

I exhale with relief. Wait for him to shift his weight from me, desperate now to be released from the handcuffs, to get on with the next part of the plan. But as Harry straightens up, I feel him nudging at me again, semi-stiff already – or maybe never flaccid. Fuck, I think. He’s taken Viagra. This could last forever.

He forces a couple of fingers back into my vagina and rubs his cock against my thigh, getting himself fully hard again. It doesn’t take long. If nothing else, Janine and I have succeeded in seriously turning him on.

With his erection fully re-established, there’s a pause. I’m hoping Harry is putting on another condom. I wonder what Janine is doing. Watching? Waiting?

Or changing her mind, perhaps, formulating some scheme of her own.

I don’t get the opportunity to worry any further. Harry is pushing against me, and by the time I realize what’s coming, there’s no time to prepare.

Relax, Grace, I urge myself.
Relax.

Pain sears through me as he forces his way into my anus. I nearly throw up as I sense something tear inside me. Give me a fucking chance, I want to yell, but I can’t even speak.

He starts to pump, and each forward and backward thrust brings its own kind of agony. I’m crying now, biting on the gag so hard I almost choke. My wrists hurt from where I can’t help pulling back against the unyielding plastic.

Harry is grunting now with the effort. And pleasure. His breathing laboured, animal-like. I get a sudden flash of Michael’s girlfriend. What she must have endured. Anally raped. I read the reports when he was in prison. Even saw some of the photos.

Not that he made that mistake again.

And now I’m genuinely frightened. Fear descends like fog, engulfing me, reducing my breath to short repeated gasps. I feel dizzy, start to hyperventilate with panic. I try to calm myself, slow my breathing, but I can’t – even the attempt makes me feel more out of control.

Jesus, just come, will you?
I scream in my head, wondering if I might pass out. Somewhere deep inside my mind, something snaps and I make myself a promise.

I will never, ever let anyone do this to me again.

Then finally, at that point when I know I can’t take any more, I hear Janine, her tone both pleading and seductive. ‘Save some for me, won’t you, Harry?’

The thrusting stops. I feel him withdraw, but the cramp in my anus barely recedes, a pulsing ache radiating right through my torso.

Suddenly the gag is gone, the blindfold slid from my eyes. I’m blinking in the dimmed light of the room, still too bright after the darkness of the last ten minutes.

Janine leans over to release the handcuffs and I catch her look of genuine unease as she sees the tears on my cheeks. But she stays in part, turning and giving Harry a lascivious smile.

‘Come on, big boy, it’s your turn.’

He looks at her dubiously.

‘Oh,
come on
,’ she teases. ‘We won’t hurt you. Will we, Stella?’

Stella?

It’s the wrong name.
She just called me the wrong fucking NAME.

I widen my eyes at Janine in alarm. See from the way she stiffens that she too has realized her mistake.

We’ve blown it, I think. We’ve completely fucking blown it.

We wait for Harry’s reaction. For him to ask what the hell is going on. But he just looks at us, grinning.

I exhale, my breath jagged. Thank Christ. He hasn’t noticed.

‘Really, Hairree, you’ll love every minute,’ I say quickly, anxious to move things along before Harry can mentally rewind the last ten seconds. ‘We promise to be gentle. Not beat you with birch twigs, like at home.’

I giggle and Harry’s grin widens. He eyes the handcuffs, weighing up whether they present any kind of threat.

‘OK.’ He lies on his back and holds out his hands. ‘We’re only playing, right, girls? No actual pain.’

‘Of course not,’ Janine promises, slipping the cuff on to his wrist and clipping him to the headboard. She chucks the other one to me and I attach him to the far side of the bed, moving his arm wider, allowing him less leverage.

Harry pulls against the cuffs, testing, then lies back, reassured. It’s obvious one firm yank from him would snap them in an instant.

Janine approaches with the blindfold, but he pulls his head away. ‘I’d rather watch.’

Her eyes flicker towards me in panic. The blindfold is crucial. Without it there’s no way this is ever going to work.

‘Come on, Mr Harry,’ I coax in my best Norwegian accent. ‘It’s good, not to be able to see. Only feel. It focuses your mind on the …’ I pause if searching for the right English word. ‘… on the
sensation.
’

He considers this for a second. Nods his assent. ‘But no funny business, OK?’

Janine slips the blindfold over his eyes, making sure there are no gaps he might see through. I wave a hand in front of his face, just to make sure. He doesn’t flinch.

I nod to Janine. She climbs on to the bed, placing herself between his legs. Slips off the used condom and slides her mouth around Harry’s cock.

Contain and distract, exactly as we discussed.

While she’s keeping him happy, I go to the MP3 player in the lounge and plug in my smart phone. ‘All That I Want’ by LCD Soundsystem erupts through the speakers.

I go into the kitchen and open the cupboard where I’ve hidden the other bag, and bring it back into the bedroom.

‘What’s the music for?’ Harry asks.

‘Only a
leetle
atmosphere,’ I say.

‘Bit loud, isn’t it?’ he complains.

I ignore him. Janine picks up the rhythm of her mouth on his cock, moving up his shaft and twirling her tongue around the tip until he groans in pleasure.

I have to admit, that’s quite some technique.

Lifting the first set of handcuffs out of the bag as quietly as I can, I attach one end to the headboard and lay the other carefully across the pillow, making sure it doesn’t touch Harry’s head. Then repeat the same on the other side.

I tap Janine lightly on the shoulder. She lifts her eyes to mine and in that moment I see exactly how scared she is. I give her a quick smile. She removes her mouth from Harry’s cock and positions herself opposite me at the head of the bed. Harry wriggles. His erection stands up from his groin at a right angle, glistening, near purple with engorgement, bouncing slightly as he shifts into a more comfortable position.

‘So what’s next, girls?’ he asks, his voice eager with anticipation.

‘This,’ I say in my own voice, and with rapid, synchronized movements, Janine and I grab the prison-issue handcuffs and snap them around his wrists. Janine manages hers perfectly, opening and clicking them shut, just like we practised.

‘What the fuck?’ cries Harry, sensing the weight of them, the cold, heavy steel against his skin. He pulls down hard. The plastic handcuffs snap instantly; the real ones kick in, stopping him dead.

‘Jesus!’ Harry shouts, almost spitting with fury. ‘What are you fucking bitches playing at?’

I look at Janine, mouth ‘thank you’ and nod towards the door. She grabs her clothes and darts into the lounge.

I give her two minutes to dress and leave.

45

Monday, 13 April, 3 p.m.

Harry’s roaring now, trying to make himself heard above the burst of tortured synth blasting from the speakers.

But there’s no one to hear him except me.

I bend down, put my hand back into my bag and lift out the gun. Position myself at the side of the bed and place the end of the barrel on the bridge of Harry’s nose. He flinches at the touch of the metal and twists his head away, kicking out towards where he senses I’m standing.

I step out the way. Lean over, mouth against his ear.

‘Keep still or I’ll fucking kill you.’

Using the tip of the gun, I draw back the blindfold. Harry freezes as his eyes focus on the barrel. ‘What the fuck are you—’

‘Shut up.’

I move to the foot of the bed, holding the gun steady in my right hand. His gaze never leaves it for an instant.

‘You fucking crazy Norwegian bitch.’

He stops, eyes widening as he watches me pull off my wig and shake out my hair. Transferring the gun to my left hand, I remove the contacts from my eyes, dropping them on to the bedside table.

I’m still naked, but I don’t care. My transformation leaves Harry speechless. He stares at me, and I see his jaw stiffen as he realizes who I am.

And what kind of situation he’s now in.

His face pales as all hope that this is some bizarre sex game deserts him. I savour the moment. I know what I planned, but now I find I want to improvise, to ad lib a little. I walk to the end of the bed and rummage in the bag. I’m pretty sure I put one in here, almost as an afterthought.

My hand seizes the vibrator. It’s one of those neon-pink numbers, shaped like a real penis, only much larger than most men can boast. It’s equipped with sturdy D-size batteries and a menu that includes rotation as well as vibration.

I hold its obscene bulk up so Harry can see it. His face pales as his brain starts to process the possibilities.

Of which, when you think about it, there really is only one.

‘Listen … Stella, isn’t it? Just listen to me. I—’

‘Shut up.’

I dip back into the bag. Pull out the bottle of lube. Squeeze a liberal dose on to the vibrator’s oversized head.

‘Stella, for fuck’s sake.’

His voice is louder now, rivalling the noise from the stereo. He’s kicking out with his legs, flailing as I approach him, the handcuffs cutting into his wrists as he tries to twist round and kick me away.