The Girl at Table Eleven
Chapter Four
Innocence Redeemed
The next day, Dinah smiled shyly and said hello to Stanley, who was sweeping their third-floor hallway; and she found that she was genuinely pleased when he returned the salutation. That afternoon, she gave Mr. Grandon another blowjob; and she got home in time to fix Ivan some chicken tenders and oven-baked French fries for dinner. That’s when he told her that they were going out … to dinner and then to a party … the next evening (Friday); but he refused to answer any of her questions about it, simply telling her that what she was wearing for work would be just fine. And she was overjoyed to learn that Jimmy had sent her a special email attachment; but because she fell asleep almost as soon as it started, she never had the chance to find out what made it “special.”
The alarm woke her up at six. She was stretched out on the couch, covered by a thin blanket, her blouse and bra completely missing (she found them in the clothes hamper). Sighing heavily, she started her day, washing her hair and shaving in the shower, then curling and blow-drying her tresses, always keeping an eye on the clock to make sure she wouldn’t miss her bus.
Mr. Grandon wanted her right away that morning, which was something he hadn’t done before; explaining that it was his wife’s fault that he was so constantly horny. This time, after he locked the outer office door, he brought in one of the armless chairs from the outer office and waiting area (where she worked). After undressing her and kissing for a minute or two, he sat in the chair and gave her instructions on how to lower herself onto his waiting cock. She’d never attempted anything like this before, surprised to find how well their bodies seemed to fit together in this pose; and she moaned softly at how far up inside her he was, which seemed to turn him on even more.
He began hinting that he wanted her to stay late with him that evening, but she explained about the party that Ivan was taking her to that night. Mr. Grandon was not pleased. His wife was visiting her mother that weekend, and he was alone. Could she possibly come into work on Saturday and Sunday? She didn’t know, but promised to find out. Since she didn’t have a cell phone, he said he would call her the next day.
That evening, as she was unlocking her apartment door, Ted suddenly came out of HIS apartment, perhaps having heard her. Without preamble, he walked directly up to her, took her in his arms, explained that he needed her, and he kissed her wantonly. She didn’t fight the kiss, but she told him that she couldn’t go with him … that Ivan was taking her out for dinner, and then to a party. She could see the thoughts as they flooded his brain, considering some way to turn this to his advantage; but he obviously couldn’t. “This weekend,” he told her earnestly. “I’ll find a way for us to be together this weekend.” And he turned and left her feeling unsettled and a bit out-of-breath.
In the apartment, Ivan was at his computer (of course), but he met her and explained that they had dinner reservations for seven, and then the party at nine. They needed to leave soon. A date. A real date. This hadn’t happened since they’d been married … and only twice before that. She didn’t have a shower cap, but she did her best to keep her hair dry. She cleaned herself thoroughly, inside and out, and she hoped the deodorant soap would be enough to make her scent pleasant. She used the hairbrush, as well as the scant makeup she owned. As Ivan led her outside and to their car, she dared to reach out and take his hand; relieved that he didn’t pull away. In fact, he rewarded her with a two-second smile. They didn’t speak in the car.
It was a long way to the restaurant, which was way up in Melrose; and when they finally got there, she found the name of the place was something she couldn’t pronounce. Inside, there was a bar along one wall, while several tables lined the wall opposite, though there were no other patrons. The guy behind the bar greeted Ivan by name, as did another man who pointed to a table. When the man brought a carafe of water and some glasses, he said something in a language she didn’t know. Ivan responded, and they engaged in a lengthy conversation, during which the man unabashedly looked at Dinah: her face, her breasts. Eventually, the man left, but was back immediately with three small glasses and a much smaller carafe, which he poured from. The men each picked up a glass; and, when Ivan motioned, she picked up the other. “Za vashe zdorovya!” the man said, and they downed the liquid. She sipped and sputtered, coughing. The man laughed and left them.
“What is this?” she asked Ivan.
“Vodka.”
She took a sip of water.
“You know these people?” she asked, though it shouldn’t have been a question.
“My people are from the Ukraine,” he explained. “Kherson Oblast.”
She had no idea what that meant. The man returned and set plates of food in front of them. They hadn’t ordered … or, at least, she didn’t think they had. She had never seen anything like it. There were a dozen slices of something; some round and some squarish. As the men again engaged in conversation, she picked up her knife and fork and tried a bite from a round slice, which appeared to have an egg baked into the center. She was surprised to find that it was cold. The man walked away again.
“This is delicious!” she told her husband. “What is it?”
“Roulade. Chicken, I think.” He pointed. “That’s salo. Pork.”
“Ivan, this is SO much better than cheeseburgers!”
They ate mostly in silence after that. He informed her that it was poor manners not to finish her drink, and she sipped it, trying not to frown. She finished the food, thinking the meal had been wonderful, only find that it had just been the appetizer! A steaming dish of some sort of dumplings in a gravy-like sauce was set in front of her. “Halushki” he called it. There was a glass of red wine. Afraid of offending, she ate and drank everything; which, despite her protests, included another small glass of vodka. It was all marvelous; but she found that she was stuffed, as well as a bit tipsy.
An old man stopped by the table, eyeing her like a head of livestock. He spoke at length with Ivan in what was apparently Ukrainian; and after he’d left, her husband had called him “Uncle Vasyl.”
“You’re related?” she asked. “Why didn’t you introduce me?”
“Trust me. He was in one of his moods. Maybe some other time.”
The party Ivan was taking her to was in Alhambra; and while rush hour was long over, it was Friday, and it still seemed to take a very long time to get there. The neighborhood was an old one, and the lots were spacious, compared to most others in the Los Angeles area. The house was set well back from the street, and was large. Dinah couldn’t imagine how much the place was worth. She was surprised to find that there were only about a dozen people in attendance, with men of varying ages. The women, however, were mostly very young, like Dinah herself.
She was handed a glass of something that had a greenish tint and tasted sweet with a cloying aftertaste. It might have been her imagination, but the men all seemed rather domineering, a few actually swaggering; while the girls were the exact opposite … meek, submissive, quiet. One wore what appeared to be a dog collar and leather wrist bands. The one girl that did not seem to fit the mold was a short-haired blonde woman, thirty-somethingish, who wore a slinky evening dress. Most of the other females were wearing shorts; or skirts, like Dinah.
No one had made any introductions. Ivan left her side almost as soon as he was inside, and he spoked briefly to the blonde lady, and then ed a knot of men. Two of the males seemed to insist that their spouses (or girlfriends) accompany them wherever they were; and those girls were standing, docile and timid, at their men’s sides, but never ing in the conversations. Dinah couldn’t figure it out. She took another sip of the green stuff, grimaced, and set it down on a side table. Almost immediately, the girl in the collar was beside her.
“Quick! Pick that up!” she urged. Startled, Dinah did so. The girl heaved a sigh. “Too late. Rolf saw you. Please don’t anger him. You should finish that.” The girl nodded at the glass.
“It’s too sweet,” Dinah said confidentially. But she saw a big man striding her way.
The man stopped in front of her. “I brought you a glass of wine,” he said politely, though he didn’t smile.
She had to look steeply up to see his face. “Oh. Thank you.” She held out the small liqueur glass with her left hand while she grasped the stem of the wine glass he was holding. “That looks much better. This is very sweet.”
But the man didn’t let go, and he refused to take the smaller glass. “That is our traditional drink,” he said sternly. “You risk offending the host if you don’t finish it.”
The man sounded just like Ivan did when he was stern. “Oh. I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the taste, and she tipped the glass into her mouth and swallowed. The man took the empty glass from her and finally let go of the stem of the wine glass; then, he turned away and left her without another word. She took a sip of the white wine, but it tasted almost sour after the other concoction.
“Sorry,” collar-girl said with a shrug. “I tried to warn you.” She held out her right hand. “I’m Lynn.”
She shook hands, trying not to stare at the leather cuff on the wrist. “Dinah.”
“Which one’s yours?” the girl asked, looking at the men.
“Ivan. Uh … the one in the plaid shirt.”
“Is he any good?”
Dinah had to think about that one. “Good at what?”
The girl reached out, grasped Dinah’s shoulder, and turned her so that they faced each other. Rather than letting go, she allowed her hand to slide the entire length of her arm until they were holding hands; and she searched her eyes with a deep, questioning look. “Ivan is your husband?”
“Um … yes.”
There was a long pause. “What did he tell you about this party?”
Dinah suddenly couldn’t answer. There was just something about the look Lynn was giving her. Slowly, she shook her head.
“Oh my God,” Lynn breathed softly; not an exclamation, exactly … just a comment. The grip on Dinah’s hand tightened to let her know that empathy was involved. There was a sigh. “Please don’t take offense, but I do not like your husband, Ivan. I sincerely hope I do not pick him.” That didn’t make any sense, so there was no appropriate response. Another thirty seconds went by. Just as holding hands was beginning to feel very comfortable, Lynn let go and reached upward. A fingertip touched Dinah in the center of her upper chest; then it trailed slowly along the upper edge of her bra, following the garment as it made its way across the top of her left breast. “How do you feel right now, Dinah?”
“Wellll,” she started, giving the question the consideration it deserved. “Ivan made me drink ….” But no, she decided that wasn’t the way she should describe it; so, she started over. “I drank some vodka at dinner … plus a glass of wine. Sooo, I think I’m beginning to feel a little bit drunk.”
“Yeah. Me too. I finished my drink just before you got here.” The fingertip began tracing back the other way, but it didn’t stop where it had started. It kept going along the upper side of her other breast. “And how else do you feel?”
Dinah discovered that she was starting to struggle a little for breath. “I think you’re starting to make me feel really, really … um … good.”
Lynn’s voice was soft. “I bet you do whatever a man tells you to, huh?”
That caused her to gasp. “Oh, Lynn! You have no idea! This whole past week! Men have been telling me to ….”
“Folks,” a man said loudly from the center of the living room, “it’s time we got this show on the road! If you will all gather around, we’ll start tonight’s first session!”
“We have to go,” Lynn told her, still touching her breasts.
“Oh, Lynn! Can’t I tell you what I’ve been feeling instead? Could we be friends? I could really use a friend about now!”
But Lynn reacted in the worse possible way. She heaved a soft sob, and her eyes overflowed with tears. Dinah recoiled, then tried to take the other woman into a clumsy one-armed hug, only to have Lynn pull away.
“I’d love to be your friend,” she said. “But not right now. We have to go do what the men want.” She was obviously struggling, trying to reign in her emotions. She took both their wine glasses and set them down on the side table. “Listen, just keep trying to feel good, okay? Do what the men tell you to do. That’s what you always do, anyway, right? That’s what comes naturally for you, right? Me, too. I’m like you. Let’s you and me go do what we do best, huh girlfriend? Come on.”
Lynn took Dinah’s hand and guided her to the center of the room, where she let go abruptly and moved on to another spot. Caught unaware, Dinah staggered and almost fell; but someone caught her and lowered her gently to the floor. As she sat, cross-legged, she realized that the room was moving, twisting softly around her. Lynn was sitting on a sofa, across from her; and some man was offering her a bowl of something. But no, the bowl was empty … or sort of empty. Lynn reached inside and extracted a piece of paper. Giving it a single glance, she told everyone in the room: “Sonny.”
A stocky, rather short man walked across the room and offered Lynn his hand. Dinah was enthralled by the fact that Lynn was staring directly at her. Without looking away, she placed her own hand in that of the man, and she rose. Finally, finally, she broke eye with Dinah and smiled at the man who led her toward a stairway; and together, they walked up and away from the others.
Next, it was the thirty-somethingish blonde’s turn. She was standing just in front of Ivan; and, for the first time, Dinah noticed that her husband’s arms were around the lady. Smiling, the woman stuck her right hand into the bowl, left it there for a long five seconds, then extracted it. She looked at the slip of paper, then back and up at the man behind her. “Ivan,” she said. Hand-in-hand, they walked to the stairs.
Dinah stopped watching them when her field of vision was blocked by the bowl being held in front of her. Why had it taken her so long to figure out what was happening here? Was she really that stupid? But that was obvious, wasn’t it? Yes. Yes, she was. She took a breath and reached into the bowl, feeling little pieces of paper tickling her fingertips. She seized one and examined it as the bowl was drawn away from her face. “Um … Albert?”
“Wonderful, I get the new girl!” a voice seemed to float all around her. She blinked as a hand descended to her face level. Ah. It was the man holding the bowl; which was now being ed to somebody to one side. “Riley, would you mind taking over in my absence?”
Dinah put her hand in the proffered one and tried to stand, only to fall unceremoniously back onto her butt from an elevation of a few inches. “Oops!” she huffed. The man’s hands were now under her arms, his wrists pressing inward on both breasts simultaneously; and she was being hoisted upward like a side of beef, while her feet scraped ineffectively around on the floor beneath her. She clutched the sides of his biceps, frantically seeking some sort of , while looking up into kind eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sort of … dizzy.”
“I can tell,” he responded. “We need to take body weight into when figuring out the amounts of the ingredients of those drinks.”
“What?”
“Not important.” His arm was fully around her waist, and she was being guided across the room.
“Um ….” She muttered, pointing back and upward as they ed the stairs.
“This is my house,” the man was saying, keeping her firmly against his body as she stumbled yet again. “You get to see the master bedroom. We’re almost there.”
She was standing in a strange place. Fingertips were working on the buttons of her blouse; but when she tried to help, they got tangled up with somebody else’s, and they were gently slapped away. When the latch of the bra was released, she sighed in ecstasy. “Oh, that feels wonderful!” she moaned.
“You ain’t felt nothin’ yet, doll!” he told her.
She was on her back in the bed, and she wasn’t wearing a stitch. “Wow, you’re good,” she breathed, not really knowing how she’d gotten there in this condition.
“Can I quote you?”
Every feeling was intensified: the sucking of her nipples, the stroking of her clitoris, the finger inside her. How was this level of exactitude possible when she kept losing time? She hadn’t ed him entering her, but he was certainly inside her now! She groaned. Oh, gosh, he sure was! “I belong to you,” she said into his ear.
“Holy fuck! What a sweet piece of ass you are!” he huffed loudly between thrusts.
“What a sweet piece of ass I am,” she whispered. And he was shaking her gently, telling her to wake up.
He made her sit on the edge of the bed while he found each piece of her clothing, folding it all neatly and making a small pile of it, her short-heeled shoes riding atop the bundle. There was a plastic bag, and he put it all inside. His arm was back around her, and they were walking back out.
“We … we can’t go back out there like THIS!” she protested.
“This is our tradition,” he explained, leading her along, despite her stumbling, shuffling feet. “We always start round two this way. Your husband will dress you before you go home.”
She was sitting on a couch, looking around at all the people looking at her. She had an intense feeling of déjà vu, and suddenly ed that night aboard the cruise ship when everybody she saw was naked.
“How are you doing, girlfriend?”
“Oh, Lynn! Hi! I’m really drunk. I had some vodka before I came.” Was she repeating herself?
Lynn sighed heavily. “Yeah. Me, too. It’s always like this when I come here. How are you holding up? I’m worried about you.”
“Um … okay. I was with … um ….”
“Albert. This is his house. He’s alright. Could’ve been worse for your first time.”
“He came inside me,” Dinah said, looking down. “He must have put something between my legs. That was nice. But it’s not there anymore … sort of oozing out a little now.”
“I’m sure he has an army of housecleaners. Don’t worry about it.”
The bowl was being ed around again. Some brunette with nice tits across from them drew a man named Joshua, and the two of them went away. A short-haired blonde that had a pubic patch shaved into the shape of a heart announced that she was ing for this round, and no one seemed to question it. Ah. It was her husband’s girl from the first time. Ivan still had his arms around the woman; and for the very first time, Dinah considered the possibility that her husband might be having an affair. For some reason, the idea made her head hurt. Oddly, just as soon as she realized that she didn’t really care, the pain stopped.
The bowl was being offered to Dinah now. She reached in. “Rolf,” she announced. Where had she heard that name?
“Honeymoon’s over,” Lynn murmured to her. “Hang on tight.”
Ah. It was the really big guy that had made her drink the sweet green stuff. He was helping her up. She didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Lynn as she was dragged toward the stairs and up away from the festivities below. They were in another bedroom, and he was taking her in his massively strong arms. She surrendered to the kiss, but it didn’t last that long.
“I should find a bathroom and clean up a little,” she told him.
“No need,” he rumbled. For just a second, she tried to compare the deep voice to Jimmy’s, but there was no equivalence. Jimmy’s was sweet, gentle, kind; and this man’s was none of those. He piled all the pillows from the bed on one edge, and then he physically forced Dinah’s body over them, face down, so that her butt was presented to him. He roughly kicked her leges wide. And then, with one single shove, he fully plunged into the depths of her pussy. Her groan morphed into a full scream. Nothing had ever been inside her to this extent. When he withdrew, rather than feeling relief from the cessation of pain, she found herself dreading its return. It felt as if he was hitting her stomach with a cudgel from within, and she suddenly felt sick and dizzy. I’m about to faint, she thought. How odd. She had never done that before.
Ivan was maneuvering one of her arms into her blouse. “Oh,” he said calmly. “You’re awake.” She stood while he held her skirt so she could put her feet in, one at a time.
“Ivan, I’m very … um … dizzy.”
“You’ll live.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
He waited impatiently while she sat in front of a commode; but eventually, the nausea ed without any unpleasant incident.
“You had better not puke in my car,” he muttered, leading her out into the black, black night. Somehow, she found herself sitting in the car, fastening her seatbelt. She wasn’t wearing a bra, but she didn’t want to ask about its current location for fear of risking a return of the stern voice. The shoulder strap seemed to fit very well between the individual breasts now, though it made her left boob cruise at a slightly higher altitude than the right; and she thought that worthy of a giggle before she lost interest and drifted off to sleep.
She was roused long enough to make the trip to the third floor and eventually into bed. Ivan made her take off her clothing, but didn’t insist on nightwear, and she didn’t seem to possess the physical strength to search for her nightgown; and so, for the first time, she slept nude. Rousing in the dark in order to stagger to the bathroom and pee, she discovered that sleeping naked was a freeing experience; and so, she stayed that way until morning.
Awakened by a knocking, she jolted upright in bed and looked frantically around for something to put on. She snatched up the short green robe and got it situated around her and tied just as she got to the door and jerked it open, only to have a man grasp her by the shoulders and push her; and she stumbled backwards into the apartment living room. The man looked familiar, but she didn’t know him.
“Good morning,” he announced cheerily. He slid an arm around her and put a hand directly on her right breast. “We didn’t meet last night. I’m Lynn’s husband. You Lynn, don’t you?”
“What are you … uh … Lynn. Yes, I Lynn. I really liked her.”
“I saw you looking at her wrist and neck cuffs. I got the feeling you’ve never tried bondage. Am I correct?”
“What are you doing here? Ivan ….” She looked around. “I don’t think Ivan is here.”
“No,” the man said, smiling. “I saw him leave. He had a briefcase with him, and it looked like he might be a while. Give me your left wrist.”
“What?”
The man stepped back, took her left arm in his firm grasp, and he snapped a metal handcuff around her wrist. “Excellent!” he declared. “I just knew that you’d be a model sub. Now, don’t fight me as I turn you around this way … yes, just like that … and now, let your right arm hang loose as you let me position it just so. Oh, you’re being a very good girl for me!” She felt the other cuff lock around her remaining wrist. And then, he pulled her back into him. Her palms, facing back, were suddenly on his cock, which was hardening inside his tros. His hands, in the meantime, were seemingly everywhere. The short robe was suddenly open, and his palms and fingertips were exploring every square inch of her breasts. “How do you feel?” he asked in her right ear.
“What …? Why are you …?”
“Tell me you feel helpless.”
“I ….”
“Tell me!”
“I feel helpless!” She took a shuddering breath. “I’m not clean! I just woke up!”
“No time,” the man said. “I have an eleven o’clock tee-time at Rio Hondo. Where’s the bedroom? Oh, never mind. I’ll find it.”
Somehow, she was on her back on the bed. She heard a zipper, and when she looked at him, his pants and underwear were around his knees, his cock jutting out from his body at a slightly downward angle, but it seemed hard and threatening.
“Please be gentle!” she pleaded. “I’m still sore!”
“Sorry,” he said, stroking the side of her face softly with his right palm; and then the side of her left breast a little less softly, and he gave it a squeeze. “Can’t be late for that tee-time.” He pried her legs far apart, and she allowed them to stay that way. And then, he slid inside of her, slickly, effortlessly, like a key in a newly-oiled lock.
He set up a rhythm, smooth, precise, up and down, in and out, over and over. “Tell me you feel helpless.”
“I feel helpless.” She thought it was going to hurt, but this was beginning to feel nice. “You are inside me. I belong to you.”
He lurched, paused for a moment, and then restarted at the same pace. “Oh, you’re a good one! I’ll call your husband and try to set up a little private party in our basement dungeon.” He paused yet again. Froze. And he thrust hard into her depths. “Well, shit! I thought I’d last a little longer than that! God, you’re a sweet girl! Aaarr!” And his dick beat a tempo in her depths. She stifled a disappointed sound.
But then, he was gone. She lay on the bed, her legs still stretched wide; not because of any wanton desire, but because she was too confused and muddled to will them closed. She heard water running in the bathroom sink. Her back felt strained against her bound wrists. Back again, he grabbed her left knee and spun her over, face down. Thirty seconds later, her wrists were no longer connected; and, grasping a shoulder, he turned her back over and kissed her.
“That was grand! Can’t wait to do it again! Bye, now.”
On her back, looking up at the ceiling, she beathed a ragged sigh. “What’s your name?” she asked the empty room. She stayed like that for a long time. Cum was dribbling out of her body onto the sheet. It was Saturday. Ivan had told her … she couldn’t exactly when … that there were washers and dryers in the basement. All of her bras were dirty, as were all of her blouses and four of the skirts. She tried not to think … she only stayed there, body oozing fluids, until she thought she had to get up.
She spent almost an hour in the bathroom, then made herself an extravagant breakfast/lunch: eggs with cheese, bacon and a biscuit. There was a note from Ivan explaining that he wanted to take her somewhere again that evening, and that she should be ready to go at five. Also, her boss had called, wanting her to work on both Saturday and Sunday, but Ivan had told him no. Oh, that wasn’t good. Mr. Grandon was not going to be pleased, come Monday morning.
She had planned to clean the bathroom, but that might not happen now. There was only one plastic hamper-basket for dirty clothes; and after she stripped the sheets and added the bath towels, it was piled very high. She’d never been to the basement, but was determined to find it somehow; and eventually, the destination was reached. There were two of each type of machine, and she was surprised to find that they were all free. Hmm. Nine bucks a load, and it was computerized, adding the amount to the rent. That’s why they were free. Laundromats were cheaper. There was no recourse, as far as she could see; so, she stuffed the whites and the sheets in one, the colored clothes in the other; figured out the computer codes, which were combinations of apartment numbers and phone numbers, and set them going. She’d used the last of the detergent that Ivan had, and made a mental note to put it on their shopping list.
Her novel wasn’t very interesting, and she decided to just forget it. For some reason, her e-book wouldn’t hook up to the internet down here; ergo, she couldn’t look for anything else to read. So, she just sat and thought. That man this morning (whatever his name was) had left her feeling strangely empty inside. She was just a little surprised to find that, thinking back on it now, she had actually liked it. Was it being handcuffed? That had never happened to her; feeling helpless like that. Telling her to it it seemed somehow childish; but it had thrilled her, nonetheless. If only he had kept doing it a little longer ….
“Hello there, gorgeous.”
She jumped. She must have had her eyes closed. “Oh! Ted! Hi.”
He sat beside her in an empty chair. “I see you figured everything out.”
“Where’s yours?” she asked. He hadn’t brought anything in with him.
“Already did mine. Place down the street.” He waved a hand in a general direction. “Who was that guy that visited you this morning?”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. “There’s a camera.”
“Huh?”
“You hid a miniature camera somewhere in the hall, didn’t you? That’s how you knew I was at your door last weekend. That’s how you knew I was alone yesterday. That’s how you knew I was doing laundry.”
He was silent, thinking. “You’re more than just a pretty face and a knock-out body.” When she didn’t comment, he continued. “Everybody you meet needs you.” Again, she didn’t respond; but then, of course, he hadn’t asked a question. “No doubt, you’re screwing your boss; and judging from your condition when you came in last night, probably more than one at that ‘party.’ But I need something you’re not giving everybody else.”
That made her take notice. “What?”
He turned to face her, reached out and tapped her on the forehead. “This. A year from now, after all the craziness is over, you might this parade of men, but you won’t the men themselves. I want you to me.” He rose, grabbed her left hand, and pulled her to her feet; then, he kissed her hard. She didn’t resist; and as the kiss progressed, she had the wherewithal to realize that she hadn’t resisted a man in weeks.
She was dizzy as he broke the smooch, and before she realized what was happening, he knelt before her, dragging her one last pair of clean shorts and underwear to her ankles. He stood again. “Hands up!” he ordered.
“Ted ….”
He seized her wrists, lifting them above her head. “I said, hands up!”
“Ted! We can’t! Not here!” The beer tee shirt was suddenly gone. She was naked. Every other item of clothing she possessed (at least, the only ones that would fit her) were in those washing machines. “Ted! What if someone comes in here?”
“A distinct possibility.” He physically picked her up and carried her to one of the washers. It had just started a spin cycle, and it was slightly out-of-balance, growling out a thunk thunk thunk as it began to pick up speed. As the top of her buttocks pressed into the machine, her legs seemed to splay automatically. When had he taken his cock out of his shorts? He must have done it during the kiss, somehow. She threw her arms around his neck as she realized he was lowering her body onto it.
The spinning drum inside was gaining velocity rapidly. Thunkthunkthunkthunk. With each jolt, her body ground into him: his cock, his pubis bone against her clit, her whole body against his. It was the most intense sensation she had ever experienced. “T-T-Ted! Wa-Wa-What if som-som-somebod-od-od-ody co-co-co ….” But a shock of pleasure shot through her entire being, silencing her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened her arms, not caring that she might be choking him.
He was crushing her to him. “Let go, Dinah,” he growled in her ear. “Let yourself go for me.”
Thunkthunkthunkthunk. Each jolt seemed to push him deeper, seemed to drive her desire higher, higher. Thunkthunkthunk. And she began a keening noise in her throat. “Ah!ah!ah!ah!ah!”
“Let go!”
She tightened her arms and legs, clutching him as hard as she could, her eyes closed, her face lifted toward the ceiling, and she screamed. Every single nerve and muscle in her body was reacting, seemingly on its own. Nothing in her entire life had ever come close to this. And it kept going and going.
The shaking stopped abruptly and she felt the world spin. Whatever her body was doing, it kept it up. At first, she thought that maybe she had ed out again. But no; he had simply stepped back away from the jerking machine, turning them as he did so. Her pussy was regularly clutching his fleshy rod all on its own; while he, in turn, was throbbing, throbbing, throbbing in her depths.
Feeling as if she had just run a marathon, breathing hard, she tried to take stock of her surroundings, while he gently lowered her the two inches to the floor; and her knees buckled once before she could make them to hold her weight. A finger under her chin tilted her head upward, and he kissed her lightly, though briefly because they were both panting so hard.
“Promise me you won’t forget that,” he said softly.
She started laughing; and taking that as an answer, he led her to the chair she had been sitting in before. He retrieved her shorts, panties and tee shirt, and watched silently as she dressed; then he walked to the door. “See you around, kiddo.” And he was gone.
Now, there might not be enough time. The clothes were only half-done; and now that she was full of cum again, there had to be time allotted for cleaning herself once more. That was going to mean running back to the apartment and leaving the clothes unguarded while they were in the dryer. She’d just have to risk it. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when it all worked out; and by five o’clock, she was ready for Ivan.
She told him she had done the laundry, and showed him the fruits of her day’s efforts … the clean clothes hanging or folded and put away … but he didn’t seem very appreciative. She told him about the man who had come to the door, and what he did to her. That, at least, got a reaction. His mood darkened; but she got the impression that he thought she was to blame for the assignation, and that her immoral behavior was now the new norm. For the first time, she decided not to tell him about what Ted had done. Ivan hadn’t wanted to know about the men last night at the party; so, perhaps it wasn’t even worth mentioning. Withholding the story about the orgasm made her feel both guilty and very, very intimate.
Ivan shocked her by changing the schedule. Instead of leaving at five, he told her, they would go a little later. There was a new email attachment to listen to, instead. She didn’t comment; simply went to the chair and sat, waiting. He fitted the headphones to her head and checked them, as he always did. The droplets started falling. The rings began spreading on the still surface of the pond. Jimmy’s voice rumbled and soothed. And she slept.
She found herself being led out of the apartment by her husband. There was an unsettling feeling that she should be able to waking up … or getting dressed. When had she put on one of her skirts and blouses? Why wasn’t she wearing a bra? She felt muddled, as if she’d just awakened from a nap that hadn’t lasted long enough. Ivan was pulling a wheeled suitcase, but she didn’t want to upset him and risk the stern voice by asking about any of these things. Then, they were in the car, and the trip seemed to be taking a long time, despite the fact that it was Saturday, and the traffic was as light as it ever got in L.A.
“Are we going to another party?” she asked softly.
“You’re going to meet some of my friends,” he replied in a tone of voice that let her know that the conversation should go no further.
She wanted to ask if she would be required to have sex with them, but decided it wasn’t worth upsetting him. What did it matter, anyway? She rested her head on the back of the seat and closed her eyes. If she tried, she could imagine the steel handcuffs from that morning. And then, the feel of the washing machine against her butt from that afternoon. But the car stopping woke her up. They were at their destination.
They were up in the hills somewhere. The outskirts of Los Angeles were full of places like this; places where both the rich and the poor lived; in the rugged, rocky canyons that prohibited rows of houses and neat suburban streets. They were at a ranch-style home with four or five cars parked on the road in front. The house appeared well-kept, though there was no lawn, only rocky desert ground; but the paint was fairly new … a bright burnished orange. It was still light outside, but the canyon plunged everything into deep shadow.
Ivan was standing beside the car, waiting for her to get out, holding the suitcase by the carrying handle, knowing that it wouldn’t roll properly on the rocky surface. She opened the door and tried to get out before she realized the seatbelt was still attached. Ivan rolled his eyes at her stupidity, but then he turned and started toward the front door and she had to hurry after him. He knocked but didn’t wait for anyone to answer; just opened it and went in. A screen door closed between them, and she hesitated, uncertain about whether to follow him without an invitation. After ten seconds, she braced herself for whatever consequences might ensue, and she opened the thing and walked down a short hallway, following the sound of human conversation.
“Where the hell is she?” a woman’s voice insisted. “You can’t just leave her wandering around here!”
“Don’t worry, Lada,” Ivan responded. “She’s right behind me.” Dinah entered a cramped kitchen. “See?” he continued. “Here she is. Relax.”
Dinah looked around. There were four men sitting at a table, smoking and playing cards. The woman was the short-haired blonde lady from the previous night; the one who was so intimate with Ivan. Her husband was getting a can of beer from the refrigerator.
“Marko,” the woman ordered. “Get it ready.”
“Can it wait until after this hand?” he asked.
“Now!” She was obviously the person in charge here. She was writing something in a notebook.
The man set his cards face down on the table. “Nobody had better look at those!” he growled. And he got up and walked out of the room. Dinah gravitated to Ivan’s side, but no one spoke for a long minute or two. One of the remaining three men at the table lifted the top edge of the missing man’s cards, peeked at it, muttered a curse under his breath, and threw his own hand of cards face down in the center of the table. Without checking, the remaining two players did the same.
“Come here, girl!” the woman barked as she finished with the notebook.
Dinah walked forward, but looked at her husband, who was obviously trying to ignore her. “Ivan …” she started.
“Dinah, don’t you dare screw this up for me!” he barked in his sternest voice. “I’ve just told Lada here that you would be obedient and a good girl for her! You WILL be, won’t you?”
She couldn’t help but wince at his tone of voice, and she turned meekly toward this Lada woman. “I … I’m sorry. I … um … didn’t mean to offend you.”
Lada simply sneered. “Maksym, come here and help. Get behind her.” She turned toward the hall doorway. “Marko!” she yelled. “Do you have that ready yet?”
“Yeah, yeah. Be patient, woman!” There was a pause. “You want half, correct?”
“Yes. Just half. We don’t want to have to carry her. If we need to, we can give her more after we get to the port.”
A huge, burly man was suddenly behind Dinah, and he wrapped his left arm around her in such a way that her left arm was trapped at her side. His left hand filled itself with her right breast.
“Hey!” Dinah barked, and she tried to reach up with her other hand, only to find that her wrist was being restrained in his meaty, grasping right fist. He maneuvered it forward, in front of her, toward the other woman.
“Marko!” she yelled again.
“Okay, okay! Here it is! Shit! Be patient! It takes time to prepare!” He handed her something.
Lada held a hypodermic needle up in front of her face, studying it. “This is more than half.”
“Didn’t want it to go to waste.”
The woman thumped the side of it a couple times and squirted a little out, a stream of liquid shooting into the air.
Dinah finally figured out what was happening. “NO! No, please!”
“Marko, help hold her.”
Dinah’s field of vision was suddenly being taken up entirely by Lada’s snarling face. “If you jerk and make me break this needle off in your arm, I am going to be super-pissed! Do you understand me?”
“Please! No!”
Her wrist was being held with her inner arm upward, and Lada was running her fingers along the skin of the inside crook. “Nice vein,” she said, matter-of-factly. She placed the point of the needle where her fingertips were.
“Please!”
“Have you ever been to Bangkok?” she asked.
“What?” Dinah couldn’t begin to understand that question. “Ow!”
“Thailand,” Lada said. “Wonderful place! The humidity does great things for your complexion.”
“Ouch! It hurts! Please stop!”
“Oh, quit whining! We didn’t have a tourniquet, so I’ve got to inject it slowly … little at a time … just like this. How are you feeling?”
“It hurts! Please stop!”
“How about now? Answer! Tell me!”
“Please! I just want to … um …. Please. I’m tired. I’m so tired. Oh, gosh. Please. I’m really tired.”
“Atta girl. Just give up for me. Just surrender. You can do that for me, can’t you?”
“Yes. Okay. Yes. I can do that. Please.”
Dinah studied the inside of her arm, but the needle wasn’t there anymore, though there was a drop of blood. She found that fascinating, and she watched it to see if it was growing. She was dizzy, and her eyes kept sliding away from it. Her right arm was free from whatever had been restraining it, and she idly reached up and stroked the back of the male hand that was fondling her breast.
“Take off all her clothes,” Lada ordered. “She’s less likely to try and escape without them. Then take her back and handcuff her to the bed in the spare bedroom.”
“Can we have a little fun with her before we drive to the port?” Some man had asked the question. Dinah realized for the first time that it simply didn’t matter which one. They all wanted her. They would all take her. It wasn’t important which was first.
“Sure,” the woman answered. “But we have to go over plans first. Make sure she’s cuffed, then come back out here. You guys can take turns later, after we’re sure everybody knows what’s going on.”
The man behind her spun her around to face him, and he began unbuttoning her blouse. “I gotta undress you,” he said gently.
“I know. I won’t escape that way.” She wanted to help, but she didn’t know how. “I’m really, really dizzy.” She hoped she wasn’t sounding stupid again. Just like last night. She hated it when she said something stupid.
The big man was leading her back down the short hallway. Wow! She was completely naked! That hadn’t taken very long. They were in the bedroom now. She felt the handcuff being attached to her right wrist, and she turned her back to him and put her other arm behind her so he could make her helpless. He was laughing at her. Had she done something funny? She decided to laugh, as well, just to show him that she had a sense of humor. Oh. He hadn’t intended to cuff her hands behind her … he was attaching the other end of the handcuffs to the side of the brass bed’s metal headboard. He turned her so that she could sit, and he stuffed a bunch of pillows behind her, so she would be comfortable.
“Thank you,” she told him. “You’re sweet. Could you please be gentle with me when you cum deep, deep inside of me?”
He put a beefy palm against the side of her face. “Oh, little girl; I can’t wait. I’ll be back just as soon as I can.” And he walked out and shut the door.
She leaned back into the pillows and concentrated on trying to make the room stop spinning. Closing her eyes made it even worse; but she opened them again at a strange sound … like fingernails on a blackboard. She concentrated. It was coming from the window. There was a man outside scraping something against the glass of the windowpane. The sound made her teeth hurt. There was some sort of black object against the window, as well. Something made a sharp tapping sound, and a large portion of the glass was being drawn away from outside. A gloved hand reached through the hole left in the windowpane and twisted the locking latch between the top and bottom of the window sections; and the man opened it and crawled through.
Dinah had never seen anything like him. He was dressed in something that looked like a paper jumpsuit that covered every inch of him except his face, his gloved hands, and his shoes. He stood and walked right up to her. “Hi.”
“Hello,” Dinah said, wondering what the proper etiquette was when a handcuffed nude woman met a paper-covered man. “They gave me a shot. Right here.” She showed him the inside of her arm. “There was a drop of blood, but it’s gone now. I am very dizzy and very tired … and sleepy, too; and I can’t talk very well. Are we going to have sex now?”
“No. Sorry.” For the first time, she saw that he had gym bag with him, which he now placed on the bed. He took out something long and wrapped it around the top of her head, covering her eyes. “I have to hurry,” he was saying. “Can you please promise me that you won’t take off this blindfold? Also, I’m going to put a set of headphones on you. Sorry, but all I’ve got is Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits. Promise me that you won’t take these off, okay? Promise me now.”
“Um … okay. I promise.”
“I’ll be back for you soon. Don’t take them off until I get back. your promise!”
The music was too loud, and she wanted to turn it down. But the more she listened, the more she decided that she could tolerate it. She was very sleepy. Maybe singing would keep her awake until the strange man got back. She couldn’t hear herself with the headset on, but if she took it off, then she wouldn’t be able to hear the music. And anyway, she had promised the man. Perhaps if she sang loudly …. So, she began singing along at the top of her lungs:
“In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade ….”
But her lips weren’t working right, and she fumbled to a halt while the song went on without her. In the far-far-faraway distance, a woman screamed. Hmm. That wasn’t part of the song, was it? She had heard it many times, and she was certain that there hadn’t been any screaming women. The song ended, and she concentrated on the dull gap between tracks. There was another scream, but this one was definitely from a man. Hmm again. That wasn’t very manly. Men didn’t go around screaming. Wait … was that Ivan? She reached up with her free hand and took off the headset.
“Ivan? Are you alright?” she shouted. Why was it so dark?
A man (not Ivan) shouted: “No! Please!” and a child coughed. How odd. There hadn’t been any children in the house, had there? The man screamed again, but there was another cough, and the scream was suddenly cut off: and then, there was a big thump, as if someone had just dropped a big bag of potatoes. Had there been a bag of potatoes anywhere?
Oh, no! Her promise! She had promised the man that she wouldn’t take off the headset! Oh, why was she so forgetful!? Stupid, stupid, stupid! She was trying to put the headset back on, but her right hand wasn’t working for some reason. It was so dark! Had night fallen so quickly? She kept trying; and finally, the headphones were back in place. She tried singing along again. Loudly.
“Slow down, you move too fast, You got to make the morning last ….”
Oh, she was sooo tired! “I’ll just sleep for a little while,” she thought to herself. Or had she said it? It was so dark. Just a little while.
“It’s dark,” she said, sitting up on the edge of the bed. He was doing something to her. Her left arm was being guided somewhere. She felt something slick against her skin.
“I put a blindfold on your earlier. You must have forgotten. Give me your other arm. There. Now, put both your arms behind your back. I found the handcuff key, but I’m going to cuff them behind you for a few minutes.”
“Helpless. I’ll be helpless, and you can make me have sex with you. I’ve done that before. I kind of liked it, actually.”
“Not right now. I’m only doing this so you don’t accidently take off the blindfold. Now, turn back around. I’ll tie the belt.”
“Oh! It’s my robe! My green robe! I know from the feeling! How did YOU get it?”
He tucked the sides between her breasts and tied it. “Holy shit! This thing really looks nice. It’s sort of the only thing you have left. They’d unpacked all your clothes, and they all got … uh … stained and messed up. Sorry. This was the only thing left in the suitcase, so you have to wear it. Now, here’s the deal. I’m going to leave the blindfold on you until I get you outside. There are some things in here that I don’t want you to see. I’ll guide you, and I won’t let you fall. Okay?”
“Okay.” She shuffled her feet as she walked, and he kept turning her left and right as they progressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so helpless,” she told him quietly. “Even more than this morning. I can’t move my arms and I can’t see. You could make me have sex with you whenever you want.”
“Your suggestion is duly noted.”
“I hate sounding stupid,” she told him levelly, as she shuffled where he led. “I don’t usually sound stupid.”
“You are not stupid, Dinah.”
“Do I know you?”
“No.”
“Ouch! The rocks hurt my feet!”
She felt herself lifted into his arms. She got the impression that he wasn’t a very large man, but he was certainly strong! He set her down, again on a dirt surface, but he informed her that it was only for a minute. She felt the cuffs being unlocked, and he stripped off the blindfold. She gasped. It was dark, but not THAT dark. She could still see orange sunlight streaking the tops of the hills. It was a black Prius, and she was being helped into the front enger seat. He brushed the bottoms of her feet before helping her put them inside, and she thanked him as he closed the door. With his insistence, she got the seatbelt fastened; and they were moving, weaving downhill. She caught sight of the city, below and ahead of them.
“Where did your snazzy paper-suit go?” she asked.
That made him laugh. “I ripped it right off. Makes it really easy to get undressed at night. And no problematic DNA evidence left behind. Fortunately, I’ve got another one in the back seat. I have to go back to that house tonight. I still have a little cleaning up to do.”
“Oh. I could have helped you!”
“Naw. You’d have to wear a blindfold. You can’t clean very well when you’re wearing a blindfold.”
She nodded. “That makes sense.” But then, she frowned, because it somehow didn’t make sense at all. She decided to change the subject … or rather, return to the first one. “Were you wearing that underneath? What is that thing, anyway?”
“You like?” he asked smiling. He thumped himself in the chest. “Bulletproof vest. I wear it as a fashion statement.”
“Oh.” She obviously wasn’t thinking very well. Nothing seemed to make any sense.
Somehow, he produced a small pillow, instructing her to rest her head against the window. And for a long, long time, that’s all she knew.
He was jostling her awake, and she was aware that it was dark outside except for the streetlights lining the residential lane. She had no idea where they were. Turning her questioning eyes to him, he pointed past her, to their right. They were parked at a curb in front of a small house. The lawn was neatly kept. Everything about the place was neat.
“Go up to that house and knock on the door,” he said quietly.
“But I can’t! The way I’m dressed ….”
“Do as I say,” he told her sternly. Wasn’t that odd? When this man was stern, she didn’t seem to mind.
Heaving a sigh, and very, very aware that she was wearing practically nothing, she got out and shut the car door. Then, stoically, purposefully, she padded barefoot to the door he had indicated. She exhaled deeply. And she knocked. She heard someone on the other side. And the door opened. And she stood, staring incomprehensibly, while the person inside stared just as incomprehensibly back.
“Beth!” Her cry seemed to fill the night. And she flung herself into the arms of her best friend the whole world.