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| English: A woman wearing a BDSM collar and leash Deutsch: Eine junge Sklavin trägt ein Halsband und eine Hundeleine (Photo credit: Wikipedia) |
Chapter Four
The television, a
high resolution model with a 48-inch diagonal screen, filled the entire hearth
of what was once a much-used fireplace.
The lodge had high cathedral ceilings and only the most experienced
architect or builder could detect that the beams were plastic, and not the
hardwood they mimicked. The
television's glow, seen from the kitchen some 30 feet away, did almost as good
a job of mimicking a hardwood fire. But from the semi-circle of
plush velveteen sofas some eight feet from the screen,
viewers got a very different impression. On the screen a young, naked woman, her
large
breasts swaying from her chest and dripping sweat,
was on her hands and knees. A
large
Doberman was mounted on her back and driving it ships
hard against her buttocks. The
eyesof the nine or ten men of varied ages, who sat on the semicircle of sofas,
were fixed on the screen. Some
absently rubbed or scratched at their crotches. Other sipped drinks, the only sound, but for the woman's
hard breathing and occasional moans of apparent pleasure, was the tinkling of
ice cubes in some of the glasses. The animal's movements be came more and
more frenzied. As the beast
appeared to reach its orgasm the woman collapsed to the carpet and let out an
especially long moan of
satisfaction,
as her image faded and was replaced by a field of deep, uniform
electric-blue color on the big screen.
The middle-aged man seated in
the center of the semicircle picked up a remote control device from the cushion
beside him. He clicked off the
television and simultaneously turned on a spotlight which cast its beam in a
circle of about four©feet diameter on the white, furry carpet directly in front
of the television. He
didn't say a word. But in a matter
of ten or fifteen seconds, two women entered the
room from the man's right and walked into the circle
of light. The woman in the lead
was
middle aged, Black and a bit overweight. She wore a black dress which draped her
body
from the neck all the way to her knees. Her jet black hair was done in corn
rows and she
wore large gold earrings. She led a much younger woman on a leash,
which was attached to a dog collar around the young blond's neck. The younger woman, still in her teens,
was dressed in a lilly white dress, the same in all respects except color as
the black one worn by her leader.
The black woman led her charge into the center of the circle of light
and turned her so that she faced the man with the remote control still in his
right hand. She centered the leash
directly down the front of the teeanger's body. She then stepped behind the girl and began undoing the
buttons which ran the length of the silky white dress, starting with the one
nearest the hem and working her way up to the one at the collar. She performed her task rather slowly
and was pleased to detect an impatient rustling sound from some of the sofas,
where the men remained obscured in near-total darkness. As she undid the collar
button of the white dress, it fell forward to the carpet and the young woman
stood stark naked, except for the dog collar and leash. A few low whistles were audible from
the sofas. The man in the middle
allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction at these indications that his
colleagues approved of his choice for the evening's main recreation.
After allowing the audience to
study the young blond for a couple of minutes, taking in her large breasts, her
smooth hips and long, lovely legs, the black woman took hold of the leash
again, this time very near the collar, and tugging it, turned the woman to her
left and lowered her to her hand and knees on the carpet. She then tied the other end of the
leash to a large, brass ring which was fixed to a recessed brass plate in the
oak floor a few inches away from the edge of the carpet. In less than a
minute, as the black woman disappeared into the shadows from which she had
emerged a few minutes earlier, one of the men, a tall white man of youthful
appearance with slicked black hair, stepped up behind the tethered blond,
kicked off his tassled loafers and his designed jeans, and knelt on his knees
behind her. He slipped on a
lubricated condom, and as he jammed his erect penis into the woman's vagina and
she moaned in a way that clearly did not reflect pleasure, he turned to the man
seated on the center couch.
"Blade, you certainly
know how to pick 'em," he said with a leer, as he began to pump his member
hard in and out of the teen's tight vagina. While the other men seated on the sofas
took as many opportunities to have sex in as many ways as they wished with the
young blond tethered to Blade's floor, he took the his chief lieutenant, who
had exercised his right of first access to the evening's 'entertainment', into
his sprawling office, located to the left of the large living room where the
group was
conducted its gang bang.
Seated at a large marble
coffee table between the door and Blade's rosewood desk, the lieutenant, Larry
Perez, fished a gold cigarette case from his breast pocket, removed one custom-made
Turkish cigarette and lit it with the matching 24-caret gold lighter. As he sucked the first puff deeply into
his lungs, enjoying the rush of nicotine and the pleasant tingle that still
remained in his crotch, Blade said softly, almost in a purr, "We have a small
problem." A brief pause to insure he had Larry's attention. "One of
our little birds has flown the coop."
"Oh," responded
Perez, trying to affect more interest than he felt at the moment, given the mix
of alcohol, cocaine, nicotine and lust that was coursing through his system. "Yes,"
Blade continued, shooting Larry a look which caused the lieutenant to sit up a
little straighter and place his cigarette in the grey
stone ashtray in front of him.
"A little
Hispanic morsel named Dalinda Garcia. Only been with us about three months. I myself set her to work cleaning up
our most recent wet work.
When she didn't report back to me I went down to give the little bitch a
taste of my belt."
Another pause, this time while
Blade decided whether to admit he had been careless about locking Garcia in the
room while she cleaned up the mess.
The mistake was already obvious to Perez from Blade's statement that he
had been waiting upstairs for the girl to reappear... not the procedure Blade himself enforced as a general rule. What the hell... having said that much,
Blade figured he might as well show what a big man he was by laying it all
out.
"Hey," he continued,
flashing Perez a sly grin, "I was sampling the shit we all enjoyed this
evening. I guess I got a little
careless. But, hell, she seemed
like such a sheep."
Hearing his boss admit to a screw-up, Perez allowed his body to relax
again. He picked up his smoke and
took another long drag, before responding, "I hear you, Blade. The little snatch was a more a mouse
than a sheep, the times I was around her.
Hard to believe she'd
bolt."
"Yeh, my
thinking precisely. But she
did." Blade examined his manicured
fingernails.
"I guess the tits and the
blood and all freaked her out and she panicked." He chuckled to himself. "Maybe I should have prepared her better for the
job. A lapse of proper supervisory
direction," he added. Perez chuckled along with his boss. But just that quickly the smile was
gone from Blade's coal black face.
The steel returned to his eyes, the piercing quality of which better
accounted for his name than the long switchblade he still carried with him in
this era of laser zaps and other more modern pocket-sized implements of
self-defense.
"I want the little bitch found. I want her brought back to the Pleasure Dome. And I want to hold a punishment drill
with all the other cows present."
He said this is the slow, determined purr that let Perez know that
failure was not an option.
"It shall be done, Blade,"
he responded in a theatrical tone of voice, which would have done a pretty good
job of masking from anyone's perception, except Blade's, his intense fear of
his seemingly fearless capo.
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