The Black Widow (22 page)

For a moment she was struck again by the question of who he was. It was a puzzle and she promised herself that, as soon as she had satisfied her appetite, she would deal with her curiosity. The identity of the man behind the mask was intriguing, but her urgency to find out more about him was nowhere near as demanding as her need to experience him. She was being taken over by the frantic pulse of her demanding appetite and Jo knew better than to ignore that feeling.

She tried to wrap her hand round him as she moved herself into the right position. The vast size of his cock made it an impossible task and her fingers could not encircle him properly. She had to use both hands to guide him against the lips of her sex. A tremor of nervous anticipation washed over her. She did not know if she would be able to satisfy herself on him, or even accommodate his vast girth between her legs, but she was determined to try.

He moaned as she rubbed the tip of his length against the wet folds of her pussy lips. Jo could see him struggling to get comfortable on his seat and she wondered if he wanted her to release him. It was only a passing thought, and one that she had no intention of acting upon. Perhaps he did want releasing, but there were things that she wanted and Jo was determined that her needs would be satisfied first. She drew a long, shuddering breath as she pushed the tip of his cock against herself. The purple head had hardly begun to enter her and already she could feel herself being stretched. The feelings of excitement and curiosity were now replaced by the threat of his entry.

The combination of fear and arousal was a powerful aphrodisiac and Jo was drawn by its irresistible call. Still holding him in both hands, she took a deep breath and braced herself for the wealth of protesting sensations that yearned to explode from her sex.

He groaned against the ball gag as she lowered herself on to him.

The sensation was incredible. Jo could feel her inner walls being stretched wide open as she guided the huge length inside. The man beneath her was making soft, desperate sounds of protestation that she easily ignored. In all honesty she could barely hear his muffled words because of her own euphoric scream.

Her legs began to tremble as broad inescapable waves of pleasure washed over her. Reluctantly, she moved her hands from the fantastic girth of his cock and held his shoulders to steady herself. She wanted to slow down her acceptance of him. It was her intention to enjoy the millimeter-by-millimeter intrusion of his cock but her body was too weary with exhaustion and excitement. Her legs seemed to have forsaken the notion of muscle control and she could feel herself falling on to his cock with a furious speed that snatched the scream from her lips. Unconsciously, she found herself digging clawed fingers into the masked man’s shoulders. She was aware that her hands and arms were trembling, but the sight of them came only through a misty haze of blissful delight.

Impaled on the pulsing length of his shaft, Jo released a trembling sigh. She dared to raise herself, on him, revelling in the pleasure of his cock’s slow, deliberate egress. Each subtle movement sent a sharp explosion of raw pleasure coursing through her, and Jo could feel herself speeding towards a cataclysmic orgasm. She tried to move herself further up his length, then stopped abruptly. His cock was such a vast size that she could feel it threatening to pull from her in a sudden rush. Common sense told her that if he did slip from inside her she would have difficulty forcing him back a second time. Frustrated by the closeness of her impending climax, she rolled her pelvis back and forth, pressing the base of his cock on to her clitoris. The feeling of his length brushing against her pearl sent electric shocks of pleasure sparkling through her pussy.

But still she wanted more.

She released her grip on his shoulders, silently chastising herself for leaving fingermarks on his bare flesh. Using one hand to tease the tip of her aching nipple, she rolled the hard nub between her thumb and index finger. It did occur to her that she could do something similar for the man beneath her, but she barely entertained the notion. His nipple was only a whisper away and she could have enhanced his enjoyment by placing her lips round the tiny bud of flesh, but Jo was far more concerned with her own satisfaction. She stole her other hand down to her sex lips and traced the tips of her fingers against his cock. He was slippery with the wetness of her juice and she rubbed their joined flesh lovingly. Her fingers touched her pussy lips, stretched to the limits by his massive cock, then ran against his hard, unyielding length. The opportunity to caress herself in such a way was disturbingly arousing and Jo did not hesitate to indulge herself.

She placed the tip of her index finger against the pulsing nub of her clitoris. The hard bead of pleasure was erect and, as soon as Jo touched it, her body erupted with an explosion of joy. Each nerve-ending seemed to sing a heart-warming song of gratitude. When his cock had entered her, Jo had been forced to scream with pleasure. Now she found herself beyond screaming. The intensity of the fire between her legs was so strong she could do nothing more then grunt her delight in bestial cries of elation.

Beneath her, he was making sounds of protest and Jo wondered if he was close to the point of his own climax. The cock between her legs was so large she could not detect any of the telltale twitching that she had felt in others. His solid length pulsed slightly but the throbbing reciprocation of her own flesh made it difficult to discern where his movement ended and her own began.

She found herself thinking about the pleasure of having him explode inside her. The thought was more than a little intimidating. She could feel a growing disquiet as she imagined his thick shaft twitching and convulsing deep within the inner recesses of her sex. Even that nervousness brought with it a dark anticipation.

She stroked her fingers harder against the pearl of her clitoris. The fingers at her nipple had been doing little to enhance her pleasure and she moved them down between her legs. Her hole was stretched wide open, the lips of her sex spread so fully that the hood of her clitoris was pulled taut. With eager fingers, she rubbed hard against the straining ball of pleasure.

Growling with satisfaction, Jo felt her inner muscles attempting to squeeze as the orgasm coursed through her. It was difficult to keep her hand moving as she tried to force her pleasure to a higher plateau. With grim determination, Jo rubbed the tip of her finger furiously, urging her body towards another blistering orgasm.

And then she felt him come.

The force of his climax was so powerful she screamed. His cock pulsed inside her and Jo felt as though she had been struck. The realisation that his climax had sparked off another orgasm was only distant. Her entire body was suddenly transported to a world of euphoria that her own fingers had not been able to inspire. She snatched her hands away from her sex, fearful of inducing any more pleasure.

His cock pulsed again.

This time Jo howled. She tried to slide herself away from him but her legs refused to move. She could not lift herself up and had to endure the third and fourth pulses of his vast length as he shuddered his way through the last of his own orgasm. Each gigantic tremor of his rock-hard cock pressed painfully against her inner muscles. Jo squeezed her eyes tightly shut, forcing tears of pained enjoyment from the corners. It was only when she felt the trickle of his spent seed wetting her inner thighs that she dared to attempt moving away from him.

This time it was easier. Even flaccid, his cock was huge, but it was nowhere near as formidable as it had been during their lovemaking. Once she had finally pulled herself from him, Jo stared down at the spent organ with a fond smile on her lips. She could see that his flesh was glistening with the wetness of his spilt seed and the slick coating of her sex honey. The mingled juices shimmered beneath the neon light and the wet lustre was so appealing that Jo felt drawn to kneel down and experience the taste of him once again. It took a deliberate effort to stop herself. In her mind’s eye she had already knelt down in front of him and traced her tongue against the intoxicating mixture of their combined fluids; already felt the stiffening of his length as he became hard again, allowing her to use him for a second time.

With a reluctant sigh, Jo stopped herself from traveling down this route. To try to distract the wandering of her salacious thoughts, she glanced idly around the storeroom. The first thing she had noticed on entering was a pair of manacles hanging from one wall. She could see that they were well worn and wondered how many hours this man had spent hanging from those metal cuffs. She had already come to the decision that he was not unhealthy. The strength and virility of his lovemaking had given testament to that fact, but she could also see that he was a long-time occupant of the storeroom.

Glancing at the adjoining wall, Jo tried to decide why the mixture of canes and crops was mounted there. She had studied the man’s naked body as she fucked him and had not noticed any marks, cuts or scratches. Admittedly, she had not given him a thorough examination, but she felt sure she would have noticed the telltale signs of a recent whipping. There were a couple of marks that had most probably been caused by a long-ago chastisement but those were grazes that had faded to little more than a reddened memory.

Ruefully, Jo realised she was developing some expertise in this field.

It was a particularly wicked collection, Jo thought, studying the selection of implements. Tipped with a sharp sliver of silver, the cane looked exceptionally cruel. By the same token, she noticed that the flimsy ends of the cat-o’-nine-tails had each been knotted, adding to the brutality of the weapon. Stepping closer to the collection, she inhaled and caught the distant scent of vinegar. The acrid fragrance brought a smile of satisfaction to her lips. She had expected to smell as much, knowing that there were many masochists who soaked their crops and canes in vinegar. Actually detecting the scent made her feel as though she had accomplished something clever. A soft moan from the man made her turn and fix her gaze on his bound and helpless figure.

‘I suppose that’s enough fun for the moment,’ Jo said with a reluctant smile. She took a last fond glance at the spent cock between his legs and stopped the lurid track of her thoughts. After snatching her dressing-gown from the floor, she fastened the cord then walked behind him. It only took a moment to unfasten the ball gag and as soon it was released she heard him whisper, ‘Thank you.’

Jo could not decide if he was thanking her for the lovemaking they had shared, or simply for releasing his gag. Deciding that it was unimportant, she moved to the front of the chair and began to slide the mask from over his head.

‘No,’ he began. ‘You shouldn’t.’

‘Don’t interrupt me,’ Jo told him firmly. ‘Or I’ll put the gag back on.’

He fell silent instantly.

Jo rolled the rubber mask slowly up his face, revealing a strong jaw, broad, sensuous lips and then an aquiline nose. Unable to resist the impulse, she pressed her mouth against his and enjoyed a kiss with the stranger. Her tongue explored the silky haven of his mouth and she could feel her pussy tingle as her body demanded more than just the simple stimulation of his tongue against hers.

Jo stopped the kiss when she felt her arousal intruding. She had already enjoyed herself enough this evening, she decided. Her entire body seemed to ache with the aftermath of the many orgasms that she had already endured. Wendy had a good job of satisfying Jo’s carnal demands before she entered the storeroom. Since discovering this man bound and ready for her, Jo had made a fairly good attempt at sating those appetites herself. While the notion of enduring another handful of orgasms was not that unappealing, Jo found herself exercising an uncharacteristic degree of restraint. She broke their kiss before it could develop into anything more intimate.

Slowly, she rolled the rubber mask further up his face. He had dark eyes that studied her with curiosity. She grinned down at him and was warmed by the smile he gave her in return. She found herself looking at a modestly handsome man in his mid-thirties, with dark hair, dark eyes and a curious smile.

‘Well,’ Jo said, with a sigh of exasperation. ‘I suppose I have a lot of questions, but the most important is, who the fuck are you?’

‘I’ll tell you who he is,’ a voice behind her said coolly.

Jo whirled round to see who had disturbed them. Standing in the doorway was the Black Widow. Still dressed in her black stockings, black basque and long black gloves, she looked more fearsome than ever. In one hand she was brandishing a cruel-looking cane, as evil and wicked as anything Jo had seen on the wall of the storeroom. Jo’s eyes widened with nervous apprehension. She realised she had placed herself in a dangerous situation and she wondered just how bad things were.

‘I’ll tell you exactly who he is,’ the Black Widow went on. She marched into the room, glaring at the man as she entered. ‘His name is Malcolm Meadows and not only was he once my husband, but he has also been dead for the last two years.’

Jo stared from Malcolm to the Black Widow and swallowed nervously. Now she knew she was in trouble.

‘You lousy bastard,’ Sky growled passionately.

Jo could see from Sky’s frown that the woman was immensely angry. She was still trying to come to terms with the woman’s revelations. The comment seemed to make no sense at all and Jo wanted to ask exactly what she meant. Staring at the fixed glare of annoyance on Sky’s face, Jo decided not to ask for an explanation.

‘You lousy fucking bastard,’ Sky muttered, her outrage seeming to increase as she advanced slowly into the room.

Malcolm was staring at her, his features contorted by an expression of rising panic. He tried to exercise a conciliatory smile but the gesture fell flat on Sky’s foul mood. Still tied to the chair, he attempted to shuffle backward, trying to get away from her as she bore down on him. ‘It’s been a long time, Sky,’ he said quickly.

‘It’s been two years and a funeral,’ Sky agreed. ‘I’d call that a long time.’

Jo heard him swallow nervously. Standing on the sidelines and watching the action, she sympathised with his fear. If she had been in his position she would have been just as nervous. She knew she should intercede but a cowardly voice of caution told her to do nothing and Jo was quite happy to comply.

Neither of these two people was a paying client, she reminded herself. Therefore, there was no obvious financial benefit in risking her own skin.

‘You’re wearing the psycho-bitch costume,’ he observed.

‘It’s more than a costume nowadays,’ she said stiffly. ‘It’s a way of life.’

The comment seemed to go over his head and Jo wondered if he realised how much danger he was in. Judging by the trusting expression that spilt his lips, she doubted he knew how dangerous Sky had become. ‘It looks good on you,’ he said encouragingly. ‘Better than I remember.’

Sky sniffed derisively. She was standing over Malcolm, glaring down at him with a boundless fury. ‘Do you know the shit you’ve put me through?’ she asked.

He stared up at her with wide-eyed innocence and shook his head. ‘I never meant to hurt you,’ he stammered. ‘And I want to stay now, honestly, you look fantastic, Sky. Better than I’ve ever seen you looking before –’

‘What’s that?’ Sky broke in. She was speaking to Jo and pointing at the gag on the floor.

‘He was wearing it when I found him,’ Jo explained.

‘He can wear it again,’ Sky said angrily. ‘Put it back on him.’

‘But, Sky darling,’ Malcolm began. ‘You don’t want to –’

She slapped her hand across the side of his face. The clap of flesh smacking flesh echoed around the storeroom like a pistol retort. Jo bit back a nervous cry when she heard the noise, startled by the sudden sound.

Malcolm glared unhappily. ‘There was no need for that,’ he whispered.

‘There was every need for that,’ Sky told him angrily. ‘My life’s been turned upside down and made into a misery. And it’s all because of you. I’ll be dammed if I’m going to stand here and listen to you try and lie your way out of trouble again.’

‘But I –’ he broke in.

Sky slapped him again. This time his startled breath was lost beneath the sound of the blow. ‘I don’t want to hear it,’ Sky hissed. She turned to Jo and pointed with the tip of the crop she was carrying. ‘Didn’t I just tell you to put the gag on him?’

Jo considered her options for a moment before realising she did not have any. She could have ignored Sky’s command and simply walked out of the storeroom, but for her that was never an option. Admittedly neither of these two was a paying client, but they were an integral part of the case. Her curiosity had been piqued by the whole situation and she was loath to leave the room now. She felt close to the brink of discovery, sure that the conversation between Sky and Malcolm would help her resolve the current case. The temptation to stay and find out more was irresistible. Moving quickly, she retrieved the gag from the floor and fastened it in Malcolm’s mouth.

Sky was exhaling in furious, bellowing gusts. She circled Malcolm and Jo, holding the cane behind her back as she moved. Every step she took emphasised the tension that bristled within her taut body. From the corner of her eye, Jo saw that the tip of the crop was quivering like a divining rod.

‘I can’t believe you let me suffer the way you did,’ Sky hissed. She sliced the crop through the air, forcing the tip to whistle near Malcolm.

He flinched in his seat, as though he had anticipated being struck, making a sound against the ball gag that was little more than a weak and ineffectual grunt. His eyes were wide and staring helplessly.

Jo took a step away from the couple, aware that this was now between Malcolm and the Black Widow.

‘All the suffering you caused me,’ Sky growled. ‘I’ve spent two years thinking you were dead and I’ve spent all that time having to struggle for money because you –’ She broke off and fixed him with an outraged expression. Her eyebrows were arched into a terrifying threat. ‘You planned all of this deliberately, didn’t you?’

He was shaking his head, trying desperately to make coherent sounds that might appease her.

Jo could see from the malevolent glimmer in Sky’s eye that he was wasting his time, but she knew better than to tell him.

‘You planned all of this to hurt me, didn’t you?’ Sky demanded. Malcolm was shaking his head from side to side in frank refusal of this suggestion but she ignored him. She raised the crop high above his head and brought it down with a vicious swipe. The tip caught him smartly on the balls.

Jo flinched as she empathised with Malcolm’s suffering. She did not know what pain he had caused Sky, but she thought it would have to be something pretty drastic to merit this sort of punishment.

With a grunt of exasperation, Sky lunged at Malcolm for a second time. She caught his scrotum again, causing her former husband to howl with pained disbelief.

‘How dare you treat me like that?’ Sky bellowed. ‘I was granting you the divorce you wanted. I was being the good obedient little wife and you just thought you’d walk over me some more…’ Her voice trailed off as she stared at him.

Jo followed the line of her gaze and saw she was staring at Malcolm’s cock. After she had fucked him, Jo had watched his cock shrivel down and fall flaccidly against his thigh. Now it was twitching back to life with a speed that was alarming.

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ Sky demanded.

Malcolm did not bother to shake his head.

‘How long has this sort of thing excited you?’ she asked. Clearly knowing that she would not get a reply from him, Sky slapped the crop down against his inner thigh. A raised red line was left in its wake. ‘You never even suggested we play games like this while we were married,’ she muttered. ‘And now I find you bound and gagged in a storeroom, getting your rocks off by having your balls beaten.’ She shook her head slowly and made a small tutting sound at the back of her throat. ‘What have you turned into, Malcolm?’

He stared up at her with a pitiable expression. His eyes were open so wide Jo could see he was trying to plead with her, but she could not decide if it was a plea for Sky to stop or continue.

With one slender hand, Sky reached her fingers round Malcolm’s hard length and stroked his erection. There was a sly smile on her lips as she moved his foreskin back and forth over the swollen purple dome of his cock. She studied his massive shaft for a moment, seemingly lost in a world of fond recollections. Then she looked up and fixed her gaze on his eyes. ‘How long is it since I did this for you?’ she wondered aloud.

He shrugged, still regarding her with a healthy measure of apprehension.

‘It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?’ Sky said. ‘It’s been a very long time,’ she reiterated. As she spoke, her hand continued to slide up and down his shaft with a quickening pace.

Jo watched, mesmerised by the scene. There was something exciting about the way the Black Widow wanked her husband, but Jo could sense more in the situation. Her attention was caught by the woman’s delicate wrist sliding up and down over the mammoth cock. Jo tried to work out why Sky was now trying to please him. She did not think the woman had suddenly mellowed and she wanted to know her motivation.

‘You like that, don’t you?’ Sky observed, smiling down at him.

Malcolm nodded, healthy caution colouring his gaze.

‘I thought you would,’ Sky told him. ‘I’ve learnt how to please submissives like you since your funeral.’ She continued to smile as she said, ‘A little bit of pleasure is usually the best way to start. It helps to accentuate the intensity of what I do next.’

As though the words were her impetus, Sky pulled his foreskin down hard. Her hand gripped his cock tightly, sliding right down to the base.

From her vantage point, Jo could see the dome of his cock straining as his flesh was pulled uncomfortably taut. Malcolm made a struggling sound against his gag but it was as much of a protest as he could make. His arms and legs were secured against the chair and Jo suspected that, even if he could have moved, he would have remained sitting until Sky told him otherwise.

Sky lowered her mouth over the end the end of his cock and flicked the tip of her tongue against his glans. She was grinning up at him as she moved her lips close to the end of his length. Once hand still held the base while the other teased the tip of the riding crop against his neck. Her enjoyment of her former husband’s suffering was so obvious that Jo could have sensed it without looking at her.

‘You really do like this, don’t you?’ Sky muttered, moving her head away from him. A pearl of pre-come glistened on her lower lip and she licked it up with a dart of her tongue. All the time she kept her gaze fixed on him. ‘But I’ll bet you like this a lot more,’ she whispered. Taking a step away, she raised the riding crop high in the air and brought it sharply down. A thin red line appeared on his inner thigh where the blow had struck.

Before Jo had a chance to blink, Sky was delivering a second blow to Malcolm’s other thigh. He grunted unhappily against his gag but the sound was as close as he could come to begging her to stop. Another red welt appeared on his pale flesh, burning so brightly it was painful to look at it.

Sky started down at him with a merciless smile that brooked no pleas for leniency. ‘This is how you’ve been getting your pleasure, isn’t it?’ she demanded. She was holding the crop like a pointer and levelling it between his eyes. When Malcolm made no reply, she slapped his legs twice more. ‘Answer me for fuck’s sake,’ she snapped. ‘Is this how you’ve been getting your rocks off?’

His head was nodding up and down, as though it was pivoted on loose ball bearings.

‘What a coincidence,’ Sky growled. ‘I’ve been getting my pleasure by doing something similar.’ A cruel smile crossed her lips as she glared at him. ‘There’s an irony there that I can’t quite put my finger on,’ she told him. ‘But I don’t suppose that will matter for much longer. ‘Before we’re finished in here, one of us will have had enough of these sort of games, and I don’t think it will be me.’

The fear in his eyes was so obvious Jo felt a finger of sympathy tapping her shoulder. The idea of intervening was not appealing but it nagged irritatingly. She was pulled from her thoughts by the sight of Sky staring at her. Jo frowned, wondering what she had done to evoke the woman’s interest.

‘What’s that?’ Sky asked, pointing just behind Jo.

Turning, Jo released a heavy sigh as she saw the thing that had caught Sky’s attention. The woman was pointing at the silver-tipped cane. Somewhere far away, in the sanctuary of the main building, she could hear a distant knocking, but the sound seemed peripheral. The events that were taking place in the storeroom were far more important. Anxiously, she wished she could decide on the best course of action.

‘Bring it here,’ Sky snapped, clicking her fingers to give the command more urgency. She hurled her own crop to the floor and held out her hand expectantly. Staring down at Malcolm, she shook her head and graced him with a pitying expression. ‘Darling,’ she told him softly. ‘After tonight, you’ll wish that you never made me into the Black Widow.’

*   *   *

Wendy hurried down the stairs to answer the front door. Perhaps Sky Meadows had beaten her into submission and perhaps she would never be the same person again, but she still had an obligation to the guests at Elysian Fields. The way the front door was being pounded, Wendy knew that each one of those guests would soon be woken if she did not get there quickly.

She tried wrapping a gown round herself as she ran but the cord slipped through her hasty fingers and it was all she could manage to hold the seams over her naked body. Behind her, she heard the telltale footsteps of the Black Widow’s other pet submissive and she turned to glare at the woman. ‘Go back to the room, Poppy,’ Wendy hissed. ‘Sky won’t be happy if you’re not there when she gets back.’

Poppy stared back at her miserably. ‘Let me come with you,’ she begged.

There was something so pitiful in her beseeching expression that Wendy did not have the heart to bark the command a second time. She stood torn for a moment, wanting to answer the door and wanting to comfort and reassure Poppy before encouraging her back to Sky’s bedroom.

The hammering began again and Wendy rolled her eyes. She stormed in the direction of the front door, trying not to care whether Poppy followed or not. The lateness of the hour and the lack of consideration that was being shown inspired an anger inside her that seemed to rankle with the submissive training the Sky had given. She knew that it was wrong to feel such emotions, but she was determined to vent her spleen on whomever she found standing at the front door.

After unfastening all three locks, she threw open the door and glared angrily out into the night.

‘About bloody time,’ Faye Meadows spat.

Wendy drew a shocked breath. For an instant she was struggling to find the right words. She watched a redhead walk through the door beside Faye and she caught the woman’s curious gaze as she stared behind Wendy into the shadows of the hotel reception. Glancing in that direction, Wendy saw that Poppy had followed her. She realised it was the naked, mousy-haired submissive who had caught the woman’s attention.