Black Orchid (9 page)

'Don't sulk, Tony – I'll make it up to you.'

'Huh.'

'OK, you sulk and I won't tell you who I've just reduced to
putty in my hands.'

Antony was instantly interested, quarrel forgotten.

'Maggie?'

'That's right. Well? That's what you wanted, wasn't it?'

Antony grinned.

'How did she take it?'

Alexander made a rocking motion with one hand, palm
down.

'Tricky to start with, but I didn't hear any complaints when
I saw her to her car. Janine's been pestering me to set something
up between her and Maggie, but apparently Maggie's
not been too keen. I think if I was there though . . . maybe I
could even get it on film.'

'Terrific. How soon can we put our proposition to her?'

'Wait until after this gig with Janine and see how she reacts
to that. I shouldn't mention it yet though – she's probably
feeling a bit bewildered right now.'

Maggie was feeling more than bewildered, she was devastated
by what she had allowed Alexander to do to her. Every fibre
of her rational being told her she had sold out. Yet the memory
of his lovingly mocking voice and the feel of his hands, alternately
punishing and soothing, told her that she would gladly
repeat the exercise.

Lying wakeful in her lonely bed, she relived the experience
moment by moment, analysing her reactions, marvelling at
how expertly he had manipulated her. And all without any
gain in terms of pleasure to himself. But the most curious thing
of all was that, while she had, at times, felt real fear, she had
also, paradoxically, felt incredibly safe with him. As if she
trusted him to protect her from the very punishment he was
meting out. It was all very confusing.

The following morning she was woken by the ring of the
doorbell. Ambling drowsily to see who it was, she was surprised
to find a huge bunch of red roses waiting for her. After she
had signed for them and closed the door on the messenger,
she opened the accompanying card. Her heart seemed to skip
a beat as she read,
Until the next time – love, Alexander
.

The next time! Maggie was torn between wanting to crush
the roses to her breast and throwing them, still in the cellophane,
into the bin. They were too beautiful to throw away, so
she arranged them between two vases which she placed in
opposite corners of the living room.

She was disappointed to find that they were hothouse
roses, completely without scent. Like sex without love, she
thought suddenly, yet no less beautiful because they weren't
perfumed. Again, like sex without love, she smiled ruefully.
What the hell, she had joined the Black Orchid Club with a
view to expanding her sexual horizons, surely she wasn't
going to allow her first experience of a little mild S & M put
her off?

Janine was back at work now and Maggie more than ever
got the impression that the girl was hiding something. Yet she
seemed to be actively avoiding Maggie, as if she had taken the
hint after all and had decided that to pursue her would be a
waste of time.

A week to the day after the incident with Alexander, a parcel
arrived at the office addressed to Maggie. She sensed Bob's curious
eyes on her as she laid it on her desk and was unsurprised when
Janine appeared in the doorway.

'Presents at the office? Who's the new admirer, Maggie?'

Maggie muttered something non-committal and waited
until she was alone before opening the box. For some reason
her fingers trembled as she broke the seal and lifted the lid.
The contents were shrouded in fine tissue paper on top of
which was a square white card inscribed with Alexander's bold
script.

'
Wear this for me
,' she read,
'Tomorrow evening – and
I'll promise you a night to remember!
' Underneath he had
written '
PTO
' so she flipped the card over. On the back he
had written, in capital letters, '
TRUST ME?
'

Not on your life! she thought wryly. Very slowly, she peeled
back the tissue paper. She gasped as the contents were revealed.
What she had expected she wasn't sure – lacy undies, maybe
even a dress, but not
this
!

Gingerly, she fingered the black latex material before pulling
it out to see what it was. A body suit, soft and supple in finely
seamed rubber, lined with red silk. There were studs positioned
around the breasts and crotch and as she examined it more
closely she realized that these could be snapped apart to release
the flaps which were fastened over those areas.

Maggie stifled the urge to giggle. Surely he didn't seriously
expect her to wear this thing? Out of the corner of her eye she
noticed Bob craning his neck to get a look at what she was
holding and she stuffed the ludicrous garment back into its box
and shoved it under her desk, out of sight, though she was
exquisitely conscious of its presence for the rest of the day.

The following day was a Saturday and Maggie allowed herself
the luxury of sleeping until nine. After shopping and dealing
with the routine chores around the house she cooked herself a
light lunch and prepared to catch up on some paperwork. The
white box with the kinky underwear inside it was pushed firmly
to the back of her wardrobe, but her mind kept skittering back
to it at the most unexpected moments.

It wouldn't hurt to try it on in the privacy of her own
bedroom, just for a laugh, to see how she looked. Then she
could go to the club tonight and return it to Alexander, telling
him that it simply wasn't her scene.

She thought about it while she wallowed in a decadently
hot, scented bath, her wet hair piled high on her head, covered
by a shower cap. The water caressed her skin as she moved
gently under it, enjoying the sensation. She was still thinking
about it as she dried her hair and dressed it in a high top-knot
in a style far more elaborate than she normally wore.

Carefully smoothing base make-up and a dusting of powder
over her face, she selected a dark, smoky-grey shadow for her
eyes and startlingly red lipstick and nail polish. The lipstick
made her lips look more full, ripe. It wasn't until her meticulously
painted finger and toe nails were dry and she had pulled
on sheer black silk hold-ups that Maggie took the box out of
the wardrobe.

In the harsh electric light, the latex rubber looked shiny,
wet. She rubbed her hands over it and found she liked the feel
of it, holding it to her face to better absorb the distinctive
smell. It was difficult to put on and she had to wriggle into it,
easing it up over her hips and breasts until she could slip her
arms through the straps and position them on her slender
shoulders.

The silk-lined rubber felt warm against her bare, perfumed
skin and she found, to her surprise, that she liked the feeling
of constriction. The bodice held her in tightly, like a corset.
Maggie turned slowly toward the full-length mirror in the
corner of the room and gasped at what she saw.

She hardly recognised herself. The bodice had nipped in her
waist to an impossible degree, pushing her breasts up and
together so that they spilled seductively over the top of the
garment like two ripe melons. Her long legs were shown to
advantage by the high-cut legs, her pale skin vulnerable
against the uncompromising black of the rubber.

This was a garment which was meant to be worn purely for
sex and, encased in it, she looked as if she was made for it too.
Hardly taking her eyes off the mirror, Maggie slipped into
high-heeled black leather mules which lengthened her legs
still further.

It seemed a shame to cover herself with a conventional dress,
but she could hardly drive to the club looking like this. The
black lycra tube she pulled over it was hardly more decent but
at least she no longer looked like a walking sex toy. She smiled
as she anticipated the look on Alexander's face when he saw
she was wearing his present. Surely he would reward her with
the use of his delectable body in the face of such devotion?

The drive to the club took on the guise of an erotic journey
as the rubber pulled against Maggie's skin with the slightest
movement. Changing gear became something to look forward
to and by the time she drew into the car-park, the silk gusset
was already damp against her sex and Maggie was primed
ready for action.

As she stepped into the bar, Antony came over to greet her.
His eyes slid along the length of her body and Maggie wondered
if he knew what she was wearing underneath. The idea gave
her an erotic charge and she smiled confidently at him.

Alexander is expecting you,' he told her, 'this way.'

He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the
Exhibition Room. Maggie felt a
frisson
of apprehension as
they headed, not for a discreet cubicle as she had expected,
but toward the main doors, into the room itself.

The bed in the centre was canopied and covered in fine white
lace. Alexander stood to one side, beside a tripod onto which
he was fixing a movie camera. Maggie barely registered his
presence for, as the door closed behind her and Antony, she
saw a movement in the shadows and a woman stepped into
the light.

She was wearing a similar bodice to the one Maggie had on,
only she had completed the ensemble with black, thigh-high
boots, fishnet stockings and a storm trooper's leather cap, the
peak pulled down low on her forehead. Her eyes were hidden
by a small, black leather mask. In one hand, she held a long,
evil-looking black leather whip which she tapped impatiently
against her thigh.

Maggie's eyes skittered nervously around the room to the
mirrors which reflected the scene a dozen times around her
and wondered how many eyes were watching. Antony squeezed
her elbow and gave her a little push toward the bed. The
woman spoke and Maggie's blood ran cold as she recognised
the voice.

'Don't worry, Maggie, darling, I'm not going to hurt you –
much.'

Maggie's lips moved numbly.

'Janine . . .!'

Maggie's first thought was to turn tail and run. At a signal
from Alexander, both Janine and Antony melted into the
shadows and Alexander stepped forward and took her by the
hand.

'Don't look so worried,' he whispered, putting his arm
around her and leading her into the soft spotlight.

Maggie blinked as she stepped into the diffused glare. She
could no longer see beyond the reach of the lights, it was as if
she and Alexander were alone in the room with only the lace
covered bed before them. Allowing herself to be coaxed down
onto it, she pressed herself against Alexander's lean muscled
body as he began to kiss her, slowly at first, then more hungrily
as she responded.

He was wearing a peach-skin soft, silk shirt in sky blue tucked
loosely into black denim 501's. Maggie could feel the heat of
him through it as she held onto his shoulders and she delighted
in the soft rub of silk against his glossy skin. She wanted the
kiss to go on forever, it turned her legs to water and washed
away all the doubts invading her mind.

No one had ever kissed her like Alexander did. With her eyes
closed, she clung to him as if she were drowning and he were
a life raft. At that moment she knew, with extraordinary clarity,
that she would do anything for this man, anything at all he
might ask of her.

'Do you trust me?' he murmured, his words tickling over her
swollen lips.

Maggie could not make her mouth work, her lips felt heavy,
bruised. It was all she could do to nod her head.

'You see the camera?'

She nodded again without opening her eyes.

'Do you know what that is for, Maggie? It's so that you can
see how beautiful you really are. So that you won't forget that
you are mine to command. Do you understand? Look at me,
Maggie.'

She opened her eyes with difficulty and saw that his brilliant
blue eyes were boring into hers. Gazing at him was dizzying,
hypnotic and she nodded again, dazed. His smile warmed her
and the last vestiges of fear fell away.

Feeling a hand at her neck, she turned to find Antony on
the bed behind her. Now here was a body she knew well and
she welcomed the tender kiss he placed on her soft lips.

Antony wrapped his arms around Maggie and pulled her closer
to him. He could taste Alexander on her lips and his shaft
responded to the well loved stimulus, leaping with delight in
his loose grey chinos.

Someone turned on the sound system and the haunting
throaty voice of a faceless jazz/blues singer curled around them.
He felt Maggie relax against him as he lay her down on the
bed. Running his hand over her body, he could feel the lycra
move over her bare skin, in erotic counterpoint to the latex
rubber encasing her beneath.

Antony felt Maggie tremble as he eased the tight skirt up
over her hips. The strip of soft skin at the tops of her thighs
looked very white against the black of nylon and rubber which
bordered it. He ran the fingers of one hand round the edge of
her stocking top, bringing the skin up in little goosebumps.

Covering her pubic mound with one large hand, he squeezed
gently, imagining the hot, pulsating wetness encased within
the supple, soft rubber. A spasm passed across Maggie's face
as he continued to squeeze rhythmically, his fingers inching
their way into the cleft of her bottom.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Janine's
impatient face pressed close to his. He nodded, removing his
hand reluctantly and taking the black silk scarf she offered him.
Maggie started as he tied it tightly round her eyes and he
gentled her with his lips as she began to murmur in protest.
As he kissed her, drawing her tongue voluptuously into his
mouth, he felt her resistance slowly ebbing away.

She raised her arms and bottom obligingly as he removed
her dress and he planted a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth.
Drawing back to run his gaze over the length of her body, he
narrowed his eyes appreciatively. She presented a delectable
sight, her long, black-clad legs pressed tightly together, her
white arms still raised above her tense face. He obeyed an
impulse to kiss the tender hollow of her smooth armpit and
she shivered convulsively.

Antony reminded himself with difficulty that his role was
to prepare her for Janine, waiting impatiently in the shadows.
Slowly, he began to roll down her stockings, first one leg, then
the other, until she lay, naked, but for the black latex bodice
which clung lovingly to her womanly form.

The rubber gleamed dully under the diffused spotlight, her
restrained breasts swelling, creamy white, spilling over the top.
Antony reached forward and ran the tip of his forefinger along
the edge of the join of the flap over one breast. Removing it
completely, he pressed the top of her breast so that the swell
was forced downward, through the peephole.

Her aureole glowed a dark pinkish brown, the nipple
standing proud, poking obscenely through. Antony tweaked
it, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and tugging
gently until it grew longer and harder. After repeating the
process with the other side, he turned his attention to the studs
around her crotch.

Until now, Maggie had lain quietly, only moaning softly
when he handled her breasts. As she felt his fingers snapping
open each stud, one by one, she whispered.

'Oh no! Please . . . please . . . take away the blindfold.'

'Ssh. It's OK. Feel, Maggie, just feel. You don't need to see.'

The dark, thick curls of her mons tickled his fingers as he
eased the silk lined rubber gusset away from between her thighs.
He sighed, breathing in the hot, honeyed scent of her. As he had
expected, she was wet, dripping with anticipation. It was all he
could do to stop himself from pressing his face against that
warm, moist centre of pleasure.

Janine handed him more scarves. She was impatient to
begin, her lust making her tremble as she waited for him to
continue. Antony ran the palm of his hand soothingly along
the inside of Maggie's arm until he grasped her wrist. Her hand
curled into a fist as he bound her to the corner of the
bedhead.

Once her arms had been secured, he repeated the procedure
with her ankles, tying them to the endposts. He stood back to
admire his handiwork. She lay, spread-eagled and helpless, on
the white lacy covers like a sacrificial offering. Her nipples and
vulva were exposed, vulnerable, her soft mouth slightly open,
the full bottom lip trembling visibly as she waited for something
to happen.

Reluctantly, Antony stepped back and let Janine take over.

Janine gazed down on the helpless woman on the bed and felt
a rush of adrenalin. She had dreamed of this; Maggie, tied and
blindfolded, completely in her hands. Maggie, whose treacherous
mouth had denied the attraction that her body demonstrated all
too well.

She swooped on the quivering lips, fastening her mouth over
Maggie's as she squirmed in protest. Her mouth tasted sweet,
hot, and Janine closed her eyes for a moment to savour it before
drawing back.

Although she could not see them in the darkness, she knew
that each of the two way mirrors concealed a watcher and she
smiled slowly, playing to the audience. Making a show of
sucking her forefinger, she leaned across Maggie and circled
it around one tumescent nipple. The skin of Maggie's breast
shrunk away from her touch and she increased the pressure.

'No, you don't, my darling,' she crooned, 'don't be coy.
Everyone knows you like it. This gives you away!'

She passed her finger along the crease of Maggie's exposed
vulva, dipping it into the welling moisture within. She smiled
as Maggie groaned and she sensed her shame.

Bending down, she drew a black bag from under the bed
and selected a switch from inside. It was tiny, no more than
six inches long with thin, feathery strands which kissed the
skin as she trailed it slowly across Maggie's breasts.

Maggie gasped as Janine suddenly struck a light blow on
the underside of one nipple, swiftly followed by a blow to its
twin. Janine waited until the constrained mounds stopped
quivering before she recommenced the punishment, whipping
the straining nubs until they glowed, bright red and hard.

She saw with satisfaction that Maggie's mouth was twisted
out of shape with the effort of keeping in her cries, her lips
wet and slack as she took great, gasping gulps of air through
her mouth. She bent to take one tortured nipple into her
mouth.

It was hot as she lathed it with her tongue, bathing it in
saliva and sucking it hungrily. Maggie groaned as Janine transferred
her attention to the other nipple, grazing it with her
teeth and tugging, none too gently.

Alexander removed the camera from its stand and drew
closer, focusing on the action of Janine's tongue. Playing to the
camera, she took the nipple between her teeth and pulled,
stretching it to the point of tension when Maggie could no
longer hold back a cry of pain. Then she let it go, watching
through hooded eyes as it sprang back into shape, the flesh
shivering as it did so.

Alexander withdrew as Janine walked to the head of the
bed and cradled Maggie's head in her palms, massaging her
temples with her thumbs.

'Does that feel good? I'm going to make you feel good,
Maggie, I'm going to show all those people watching us how
much you enjoy making it with another woman.'

'No . . .!'

'Oh yes! And you
will
enjoy it, darling. I promise.'

She returned to the bag beside the bed and selected a long,
springy switch with a tiny, rubber paddle attached to the end.
Tapping it against Maggie's cheek, she let her feel the series
of rapid blows caused by one flick of the wrist. She watched
the confusion pass across Maggie's face and smiled.

It was easy to imagine how the other woman was feeling
– bound and blindfolded with no way of knowing what was
about to be done to her. Janine could almost taste her fear and
the flavour of it fed her already raging desire.

Climbing up onto the bed, she straddled Maggie, taking her
weight on her knees either side of her waist, keeping her back
to her. She paused for a moment to savour the sight before her.
The muscles in the tethered legs were held taut with anticipation,
the exposed vulva a shocking slash of colour against the
black latex.

The hairy outer labia were pulled back, concealed by the
constricting black rubber, leaving the vulnerable inner lips
exposed. Maggie's unwilling arousal was evident from the sheen
of moisture clinging to the tender pink skin and the way in
which the swelling clitoris had already slipped its hood. It stood
proud, the hard nub inviting attention.

Janine ran her middle finger delicately along the edge of
the lips in a light, tickling caress before bringing it up to slowly
pleasure the willing bud. Maggie's breathing quickened and
moisture began to seep out of her, making her juicy cavity
pout invitingly.

Glancing up to make sure that Alexander was still filming,
Janine waited until the muscles in Maggie's thighs began to
tense as she reached the brink. Picking up the little rubber
paddle, she tapped it sharply against the hard bud.

Maggie was unable to hold back the cry of pain as the
exquisite, tiny blows rained down on her straining nub. She
writhed on the bed, desperately trying to escape the merciless
instrument of torture and Janine's cruel fingers which were
holding her open. Janine slipped the first and second fingers of
one hand around the throbbing clitoris and squeezed it so that
it stood high, unable to escape the punishing, light blows.

Faster and faster the paddle came down on that tenderest
of places until Maggie cried out in a sound that was part
ecstasy, part denial. Janine swooped and took the pulsing bud
between her teeth, suckling it as it throbbed and twitched and
at last was still.

Janine climbed off the bed and stood, watching impassively
as Maggie regained control.

'Well, my sweet, you do love it, don't you? Let's see what else
we have to entertain us.'

She reached into the bag and withdrew a large, hard dildo.
Antony gasped in the shadows and Janine smiled. He had a
good memory! Leaning over Maggie, she stroked the cold
instrument down the side of her face, laughing as Maggie
shrank away from it.

'Oh, it gets better!' she whispered.

Turning on the power, she held it as it purred gently down
Maggie's face.

'No! Oh please, no!'

Janine turned it off.

'Oh yes! But you have to earn it, sweet Maggie.'

Removing her own briefs, Janine kicked them aside and
climbed back onto the bed. Resuming her position, she straddled
Maggie once again, this time lowering her own moist
softness over Maggie's face. At first the unwilling lips forced
against her open vulva remained protestingly still. Then, as if
deciding that she had no choice, her tongue tentatively pushed
through her clenched teeth and she began to lick gingerly.

Janine arched her back and closed her eyes. Her fingers
found Maggie's tender sex and rubbed slowly up and down
until, gradually, lips and fingers were in unison. Once she had
started, Maggie seemed to know instinctively what to do,
lapping at Janine with a vigour which almost approached
enthusiasm.

She learned fast. When Janine dipped her fingers into
Maggie's hot honeyed vagina, Maggie's tongue mimicked the
action; when Janine rubbed her hard clitoris slowly, Maggie's
tongue swiftly followed. By moving her own fingers, she could
direct the novice beneath her into an orchestrated symphony
of lovemaking. It was almost like making love to herself, only
this was better than masturbation any day!

A fine sheen of sweat began to film her body as Janine felt
the first flush of impending orgasm approach. Oblivious now
to the audience and the camera, Janine concentrated only on
her own pleasure, rotating her hips on Maggie's flicking tongue
whilst rolling her tender clitoris between her fingers.