The Black Room (20 page)

In her mouth she savoured the honey-sweet taste of her own juices. Terry’s cock was dripping with pussy cream and Jo licked it clean before sucking the throbbing member furiously hard.

Between her legs, she was experiencing a wealth of new delights. She had enjoyed sex with two men before but it had never been like this. Normally she found it easier to accommodate the second man after the first had satisfied her. Because Bob’s dick was so wide she could feel the lips of her vagina straining to welcome him. It was an uncomfortable feeling that bordered on being painful. However, it stopped just short of discomfort. Instead of hurting, as she had anticipated, Bob’s stocky little cock made her quiver with delight. She knew this was partly due to her own arousal, and partly because of the excitement of the situation. The inner walls of her quim struggled hungrily to accept him and they were rewarded with the breathtaking satisfaction of his entry.

Jo sighed delightedly. She felt the waves of pleasure wash over her body like a torrent. The scent of her own pussy juice on Terry’s cock was intoxicating, as was the feel of his gorgeous cock filling her mouth. These sensations were coupled with the intense fever that Bob was igniting inside her. Jo bit back a shriek of heartfelt gratitude. He rode her slowly, and she relished the experience. His tremendous girth was more than she could have wished for.

However, the feeling was not so debilitating that she lay idle. Once her pussy was used to his size, Jo bucked her hips back and forth along his length at her own careful tempo. The heated friction in the lips of her labia felt divine. She thrilled to the myriad sensations it inspired.

‘I’m coming,’ Bob gasped, breathlessly. ‘Slow down, won’t you. I’m coming.’ There was a desperate plea in his voice that Jo was tempted to heed. She squeezed her inner muscles tightly around him for a moment, amazed that her over-stretched pussy could still manage that feat.

Then she released him.

Bob staggered away from her. He held his swollen cock in one hand and watched as it twitched furiously. Jo moved her mouth from Terry’s cock and went towards Bob’s. She pressed her lips over the head of his penis and sucked hard on him.

It was too much for Bob to fight against. He groaned happily. His cock jerked maniacally against Jo’s lips and his seed shot into her mouth. Jo lapped eagerly at the tip of his swollen prick, determined to taste as much of his semen as she could. She felt rivulets spraying her cheeks and dousing her lips. The heady scent of his ejaculation filled her nostrils.

Glancing at Terry, Jo realised she still held his rigid cock in her hand. She could feel the hardness of his arousal and she knew that he too was close to coming. She suspected the sight of Bob’s climax was a contributory factor. Because of this, she wiped Terry’s hard cock against her semen-drenched cheek.

When she took him in her mouth, she was able to lick Bob’s seed from Terry’s long length. Not that she was able to savour that flavour for long. Within five seconds of entering her mouth, Jo felt the impatient pulse of Terry’s orgasm as his red-hot seed sprayed the back of her mouth. She swallowed greedily, wishing she had the chance to savour the taste of him. When he eventually withdrew from her mouth, she traced the tip of her tongue around his failing member and kissed the end of his cock tenderly.

Smiling from one guard to the other, she said quietly, ‘I suppose this means that I can go back to my room without being reported.’

‘I doubt that very much,’ a woman’s voice answered.

They all turned and stared at the unexpected source. They had been so involved with each other that none of them had heard the surgery door open.

Mistress Stacey surveyed the scene. A dark frown furrowed her brow as she glared at Jo.

No one knew how long she had been standing there, or how much she had seen. However, they were all aware that this post-coital scene was sufficient for her to guess what they had been doing.

‘I won’t be so stupid as to ask what’s been going on in here,’ Mistress Stacey said slowly.

Terry reached for his clothes whilst Bob began to babble an apology.

Jo watched them distantly, still high on the euphoria of all the pleasure she had just experienced. She realised Mistress Stacey was staring angrily at her and she tried to think of something appropriate to say. She was on the point of saying something facile and crude when Mistress Stacey spoke softly to her.

‘So, you’re Jo Valentine.’ The words were spoken with a note of sour contempt.

Jo frowned. The woman was not supposed to know her identity. She was Jenny Vaughan in here: submissive Jenny Vaughan; ideal fodder for the agency’s inner-pentagon training programme. Aware that the situation could not be salvaged, Jo decided it would probably be best if she stayed silent. Defiantly, she met Stacey’s gaze as the two men dressed.

Casting her dour frown on Bob and Terry, Stacey snapped angrily at them, ‘You. If you want to have the slightest hope in hell of keeping your jobs, take her to the black room, now.’

The black room.

Jo knew she should have been scared. Even on her short acquaintance with the Pentagon Agency she knew this was a last resort.

A defiant streak inside her was determined not to show fear in front of the brutal Mistress Stacey. Her determination was made resolute by the fact that Stacey knew who she was.

Silently, although they both looked as though they regretted having to do it, Bob and Terry did as Stacey had told them.

Without a word of protest, Jo allowed the two men to lead her to the black room.

She stopped outside the apartment, the tip of her key resting on the lip of the Yale lock. ‘You’ve been enjoying the Pentagon Agency’s training for a week now,’ Vanessa said quietly. ‘Do you think you’ve learnt anything?’

Kelly found she could not meet the woman’s eyes. ‘My training has been very thorough,’ she replied humbly. There was an awkward silence and Kelly realised something more was expected. Trying not to think about her feelings of loathing for Vanessa Byrne, she searched her mind for an appropriate comment. Kelly’s hatred cast a dark cloud over her thoughts and eventually she gave up, unable to think of anything she could add.

Vanessa slapped the back of her hand across Kelly’s face. It was a short sharp blow, intended more as a shock than a punishment.

Kelly put a frightened hand to her face and stared miserably at the woman. She felt a moment’s revulsion for herself as she realised the blow had ignited a spark of dark sexual excitement.

‘Don’t mumble. Look at me when you speak, and answer my questions properly in future,’ Vanessa barked. ‘Do you understand?’

Kelly bit back the automatic response she was about to give, aware that it did not satisfy the criteria Vanessa had just outlined. She stared meekly into the woman’s face, hoping her expression did not look defiant or antagonistic. ‘Yes, Mistress Byrne,’ she replied, forcing her voice to sound firm and confident.

Vanessa stared warily at her for a moment. Her piercing gaze seemed to take in every aspect of Kelly’s appearance. A scowl curled her lips, as though she was unhappy with what she was looking at.

Kelly held her breath and hoped she had not incurred the mistress’s wrath.

‘That’s better,’ Vanessa remarked coolly. ‘You’re learning.’

Kelly felt a wave of relief sweep over her body. The storm had passed, she thought. She was sensible enough to know that Vanessa’s black mood could recur at any moment and she cautioned herself against disobedience in the future.

Vanessa unlocked the door to her apartment and allowed Kelly to walk in ahead of her. She closed the door behind them before turning the light on. The illumination revealed the modest splendour of her home.

‘You and I are going to talk tonight,’ Vanessa told her calmly. ‘I have some questions for you and I want answers. Lies and dumb insolence will be punished severely. Do you understand?’ She glared at Kelly with a malevolent frown that was a constant reminder of her lack of tolerance.

Kelly swallowed nervously. She wished she did not find this woman’s intimidation so arousing. A dull, heady tingle had begun to sparkle in the pit of her stomach. She could feel the flush of colour that burnt her cheeks. She was still determined to keep her true feelings from Vanessa if that was at all possible, but somehow she doubted it would be.

Vanessa slapped her hand across Kelly’s cheek again. This time there was more force to the blow and Kelly gasped with surprise. She could feel the reddening sting of a hand mark against her face. ‘I asked if you understand?’ Vanessa said. In spite of her authoritative posture, her tone was still calm and unruffled.

‘Yes, mistress,’ Kelly replied quickly. She met the mistress’s gaze, miserably aware that her own eyes were shining with excitement.

Vanessa’s smile was predatory. ‘Good,’ she replied shortly. ‘I think you and I should get along famously tonight. The kitchen’s through there. Go and prepare a salad for me. I’m going to shower and change.’ With her instruction given, Vanessa set off towards one of the other rooms.

Kelly did not bother to watch her go, she was busy doing as she had been told.

She entered the kitchen and quickly accustomed herself to the room. It was quite spacious for an apartment kitchen. Within a few minutes she was busy preparing Vanessa’s salad. She knew better than to organise a meal for herself. Vanessa had made no mention of Kelly eating and she knew better than to misinterpret a mistress’s instructions. She quickly prepared the vegetables. It was such a mundane task that she found it impossible to keep her mind on the chore.

Her hatred of Vanessa Byrne, and the cause of that emotion, kept recurring to her. She loathed the woman vehemently and felt physically sick at the thought of having to do everything the depraved bitch commanded.

Worse than her hatred for Vanessa was Kelly’s dark feeling of self-loathing. The fact that she was doing Vanessa’s bidding reminded her of how weak and ineffectual she really was. Even more unsettling was the thrill of pleasure she received from debasing herself in such a way.

These thoughts tumbled haphazardly through her mind as she prepared the meal. She was lost in her own world of unpleasant memories and dark recriminations. She only escaped from this sullen reverie when a hand fell on her shoulder.

‘That’s good,’ Vanessa’s voice came from behind her. ‘You’ve started doing as you’re told.’

Kelly continued rinsing a lettuce in the sink. She had not been instructed to turn around and she knew better than to try and second-guess a superior.

‘Fetch the honey from the pantry,’ Vanessa barked. ‘And bring me a couple of bananas.’

Kelly put the rinsed lettuce leaves down and fetched the items Vanessa had requested. She retrieved them without looking at the mistress. She was only a trainee and she knew it was not her place to look at a mistress unless she had been ordered to.

It then came as something of a shock when she happened to glance at Vanessa. She stopped herself from releasing a cry of surprise and set her face in a stoic mask that concealed her emotions. Kelly’s training at the Pentagon Agency had taught her two things about her own emotions: they were unimportant and they should never be made known to a mistress.

Vanessa stood proudly in the kitchen, dressed in a red-satin basque. In one hand she held a long riding crop with a battered leather tassel on its tip. Her other hand was carefully caressing the strap-on phallus she wore.

Of all the cruel instruments of torture Vanessa could have used on her, Kelly thought the phallus had to be the worst. It was difficult to maintain an expression of quiet acceptance in these circumstances, but Kelly managed it.

‘Undress and spread the honey on your tits,’ Vanessa snapped. A wistful smile played across her lips, as though she was extracting a good deal of pleasure from simply fondling the strap-on cock. She did not repeat her instructions. She did not have to. Kelly responded instantly.

As soon as she was naked, Kelly opened the jar of honey and dipped her fingers into the thick, golden syrup. She cast a hesitant glance in Vanessa’s direction and realised the mistress was watching her intently. Unperturbed, Kelly smeared a handful of honey across her own bared breasts.

It was a bizarre sensation. The liquid was so viscous it was almost sickening. Globules of the thick sticky fluid stuck to her body and trickled slowly down her chest, towards her stomach. The cloying sweet scent of the honey reached Kelly’s nostrils and she inhaled deeply.

‘That’s it,’ Vanessa said. ‘Rub it in.’

Kelly obeyed. She rubbed the honey into her breasts, concentrating on the stiffening nubs of her taut nipples. Her excitement was intense and she had already begun to forget about Vanessa’s hated strap-on. Lubricated with the sticky fluid, her nipples slid coyly from her fingertips.

‘Rub some between your legs,’ Vanessa said sharply.

Kelly scooped another fistful of the honey and placed it against the cleft between her legs. Some of the nectar spilt through her fingers and she wondered if she would be forced to lick it from the floor. It did not matter to her. She was prepared to do whatever Mistress Vanessa commanded. All that mattered right now was doing as she had been told. Being able to do that gave Kelly as much pleasure as the unfamiliar sensation of lubricating her pussy with honey.

She pressed the palm of her hand against the heated nub of her desire. The lips of her labia were thick with the glutinous fluid and, regardless of how hard she pressed against herself, she could feel her skin sliding easily away. Her fingers dripped honey in long golden strings. They were so thickly coated she had no problem inserting first two, then three easily into herself. The sensation was electric. Her labia parted effortlessly to accommodate the entry of her fingers. She quickly realised she could fit a fourth finger inside herself. Without any hesitation, she did it.

‘Having fun?’ Vanessa asked quietly.

Startled, Kelly opened her eyes. She had been lost on her own plateau of exhilaration and had almost forgotten that Vanessa was there. Smiling, Kelly nodded and said softly, ‘Yes, it feels incredible.’ She did not know if this was the truth but it was close enough. The honey on her chest already felt sticky and uncomfortable. Between her legs, she could feel swatches of her pubic bush matting together with the viscous liquid. However, the oily lubrication it offered was such an unprecedented stimulus she could not honestly call the experience unpleasant.

‘Now,’ Vanessa said. ‘I want you to stroke some on my cock.’

Kelly paused, wishing the woman had not reminded her about the strap-on she was wearing. There was no thought of disobeying. She had been given an instruction and it was her duty to obey. Nevertheless, she hesitated for an instant.

The riding crop whistled through the air and bit wickedly at her thigh.

Kelly released a shocked cry of surprise. At the same time, her inner muscles squeezed excitedly against the tips of her four fingers. Morosely, she realised that the experiences of pleasure and pain were now inextricably linked. The crack of a whip against her leg brought with it a sexual response. If she was being totally honest with herself, it had heightened her arousal immensely.

Vanessa sliced the riding crop through the air a second time. This time the battered leather tassel snatched cruelly at Kelly’s left nipple.

She muted the natural response to exclaim and reached quickly for the honey, as she had been told to do. Smearing the fluid over the full length of Vanessa’s strap-on phallus, Kelly risked a nervous glance at the mistress’s face.

‘That’s better. You’ll either learn to do as you’re told when you’re told, or you’ll taste this whip on your arse for the rest of the night. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, mistress,’ Kelly replied meekly. She glanced down as her hand encircled the cock-shaped length of plastic. Her earlier revulsion for the strap-on had now gone. She was too busy concentrating on the needs of her mistress to consider her own thoughts. She took a second fistful of honey and smothered the cock’s length with it.

Vanessa placed her hand on Kelly’s honey-soaked breast. Her fingers found the nipple she had struck with the crop and she squeezed it between her forefinger and thumb. It was a passionless exchange, done purely to inflict more pain on Kelly. Both women knew this, but Kelly stifled a gasp of delight. A shiver of excitement coursed through her body. She was reaching for more honey when Vanessa twisted the nipple hard, then tugged it downwards.

Trying vainly to ignore the flurry of excited responses this treatment caused, Kelly glanced warily at her, wondering if she had inadvertently upset the mistress.

‘That’s enough honey, honey,’ Vanessa joked, a winsome smile on her face. ‘Now you may lick my cock.’

It was an unusual request but Kelly was not surprised by it. She knelt down in front of the mistress and stared timidly up at her. She had never had a cock in her mouth before, neither plastic nor real. She wondered if she should tell the mistress this much, then realised it was not something the woman would want to know. Without any further hesitancy Kelly moved her mouth over Vanessa’s cock and began to lick the honey from it.

She stroked her tongue over the hard plastic, filling her mouth with the thick yellow honey, and swallowing it greedily. The taste was sickeningly sweet. The fragrance filled her nostrils with a cloying aroma that was almost unbearable. Regardless of this, Kelly continued to lap honey from the plastic dick until the mistress told her to stop.

‘Take this banana and use it on yourself,’ Vanessa barked.

Kelly took the banana Vanessa was offering. Without moving from her kneeling position in front of the mistress, she stripped the skin from it then slid it easily into the honey-wet hole between her legs. The sensation of the cool fruit sliding into her honey-drenched depths was disturbingly arousing. She relished the feeling. As she slid it in and out, fucking herself with the hard yellow fruit, Kelly felt the thrill of an orgasm building deep inside her. Every muscle in her body seemed tense with anticipation. She moved the length in and out of herself with a greater urgency. At the back of her mind she wondered if the mistress would punish her for this obvious self-gratification. The thought was unsettling but even the fear brought a sharp flavour to her excitement.

A low groan of bliss escaped Kelly’s lips as she pushed the banana deep inside herself. A majestic symphony was playing between her legs and she found herself wishing that this happiness would never end.

Vanessa looked down on her. A cynical frown creased her brow. She reached between her own legs, behind the strap-on dildo she wore, and spread the lips of her labia wide apart. ‘Now use it on me, you little slut,’ she commanded sharply.

Vanessa’s cold tone and cruel words added impetus to Kelly’s impending orgasm. She felt the inner muscles of her pussy grip tighter against the length of yellow fruit. Although she was reluctant to take the fruit from inside herself, Kelly knew better than to disobey. The honey-smothered banana slid easily from between her legs. Her pussy muscles clenched tightly around its egress.

Kelly used one hand to spread the mistress’s lips and with the other she stroked the tip of the fruit against Vanessa’s hole.

Vanessa sighed. ‘That’s nice,’ she encouraged softly. ‘Go on.’

Kelly pushed the banana slowly inside the mistress, moving her face closer so that she could see exactly what was going on. She considered flicking her tongue across Vanessa’s clitoris. It was not something she had been instructed to do but the temptation was there. As she forced the yellow length inside, then withdrew it slowly, the desire to push her own tongue against Vanessa’s pussy increased. Repeatedly she reminded herself that she had not been told to. Trainees did not do things on impulse, she told herself. They did things they were told to do. In spite of these thoughts, Kelly realised the temptation would not go away.