Fetish
2006-04-14

We arranged to meet the next day in Stepney and he would take me to his little cubbyhole, as he called it. He vaguely described of what was going to take place. He found a regular customer, who did not mind a voyeur behind the glass, and Evie was available, too. As we spoke, my stomach knotted into a burning heaviness. I felt my cock stirring in my pants just from the mere thought of what was in store. I trusted Henry, therefore I trusted Terry, as untrustworthy as he sounded. That evening at home, I became a literal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I walked into my house whistling, cheerfully kissing Claire on the cheek, quickly explaining my good mood as being due to an excellent deal that I had just managed to bring to life in the office. I picked at my dinner plate, not really hungry, complimenting Claire’s shepherd’s pie, which as usual was excellent. As I headed for the study to work on some lose ends that I just could not make my mind to concentrate on at the office after a conversation with Terry, Claire reminded me of our friend’s housewarming party, which was to take place the following day. Damn! I completely forgot about it. I felt guilty, which then flared into a burning rage. Why didn’t she tell me before? No, I didn’t even remember her ever telling me about this bloody party. Didn’t she realize that I had things to do? Didn’t she remember me telling her that I would be in the office every day this spring, as there were millions of projects that needed to be sorted out in time to be ready for the following Christmas? Every Saturday and most of Sundays! No, she didn’t remember? Well, that certainly told me how much interest she showed in my work! It was easy for her farting about the house and making party arrangements without me, but I simply could not make it tomorrow, and that was that.

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   I saw the hurt on Claire’s face following my outburst, but elected not to pay much attention to it. I was so excited; I was ready to burst into flames. I turned on my heel and walked into my study, shutting the door behind me, trying really hard not to slam it. Of course, I would apologize later, I thought. I might even pop into the bleeding party in the evening, after I finished my little business in Stepney. But for the time being, I could not afford to let myself be torn between guilt and sorrow. Claire, of all the people should understand that. Twenty-five years of marriage teach you that much. The following afternoon, I found myself riding the District Line underground train, pretending to pay attention to the paperback in my lap, while secretly sneaking glances at the people around me. One could always tell who was the Londoner and who was an out-of-towner or a tourist. The latter inevitably concentrated on the London guidebooks, anxiously peeking at the underground maps above the windows, making sure they exited at the appropriate time. Most Londoners would be religiously reading paperbacks and newspapers, listening to walkmans or simply stare out of the window into the blackness of the tunnel walls, lost in their own thoughts. The motley crowd consisted of everything and anything your heart desired. People of different color and creed, sporting different fashions, with hairdos, which sometimes bordered on bizarre. A young man wearing obvious make-up stood a couple of feet next to my seat and nobody seemed to be paying much attention to his eccentricities.

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   A group of three teenage girls giggled and gurgled in a language that I did not quite recognize, but could tell it must have been eastern European. Au pairs, undoubtedly. Exchanging stories of events in the households where they lived, complaining over the spoiled brats they looked after. An old, scruffy looking man, who seemed to have more space than anybody else on a busy train as nobody elected to stand too close, was giving me the impression that he must have smelled quite bad, even though I was lucky enough not to actually catch a whiff of the offensive odor. Next to me, a tired looking, grossly fat, bleached blonde kept dozing off, each time her greasy, thin hair brushing against my shoulder as her head bobbed into my direction. Another obese bird in her 40s stood next to the boy with make-up, her boobs practically spilling out of her top, giving a glorious site of what a man might desire, attracting more than her fair share of stares. A handsome blond man with warm green eyes sat across from me, chatting with a girl next to him, who seemed to blush fiercely every time his eyes paused on her face. It looked like a beginning of romance to me. His huge hand rested on her thigh, every once in a while giving it a slight squeeze, provoking another avalanche of furious blushes. The person that truly caught my attention was a tall redhead who entered the train a couple of stops after me. Her boyishly slim figure was clad in black pants and wooly sweater, black high-heeled boots made her appear even taller. Her height easily reached over six feet, heels and all. She leaned on the holding pole close enough for me to catch a good view, her beautiful chocolate brown eyes staring out into the darkness, completely lost in her own world. Every once in a while, she would absently push the little black backpack onto her shoulder as people kept bumping into her, knocking it off. As she held onto the steel pole I noticed her beautiful hands, with nails that were carefully painted in deep red color, looking like little hats sitting on the ends of her ivory white fingers.

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   She must have been in her mid to late 20s, slightly older than my own children. Her curly, fire red hair reached just past her shoulders; she looked very serious and somewhat sad, and above all, very sexy. Her smooth skin looked perfect. I can’t say that she was truly beautiful, however, she was definitely the type of woman who would make a man take a second glance. Probably even a third. I returned my attention to the paperback. No need to be caught starring. The disembodied voice over the intercom announced that we were approaching Stepney Green station; the doors would open on the left and would we please mind the gap. As I stood up, I noticed that the pretty redhead was no longer standing next to me. My eyes furiously searched through the crowd, and I found her standing by the exit. The train pulled into the station and the door opened with only a few of the commuters spilling out onto the platform, including the tall redhead and me. She seemed to be in a hurry, which was not quite the case with me. I was almost an hour early before I was to meet Terry in The Blind Beggar pub in the vicinity of the Stepney Green subway station. As she took long and hurried strides up the stairs, I tried to follow close behind. Despite the lack of a crowd, I seemed to be slowed down by people trying to puff their way out of the bowels of the underground.

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   I reached the top of the stairs and stepped through the arched entrance into the warm April afternoon, I tried to find the tall figure, which disappeared around the corner only a moment ago. Mile End Street was packed with people, which was quite surprising given the fact that this was not a shopping district, but rather just your causal residential neighborhood, dotted with the inevitable, numerous pubs on both sides of the street. ‘Evie!’ a man’s voice stabbed into my brain and my head spun around at the recognition. Not that it was that uncommon of a name, but I personally never knew of any Evie, or even an Eve who might have called herself that. My eyes browsed through the crowd of silhouettes hurrying in every direction possible. ‘Evie!’ the voice called again and now I spotted a sports car, double-parked on the street right in front of the subway station. A man with wild black hair was waving frantically at someone that was obviously on the other side of me. I turned and I could feel my face draining of blood. The tall redhead that I had admired on the subway was waving back at the man, pushing her way through the crowd towards him. I could not believe my own eyes. This simply could not be! The girl reached the man and his car, jumped in the passenger’s seat and they sped away, before I even had the time to catch my breath. I shook my head in denial; surely, this was some sort of a freak coincidence. How can one in the city as big as London bump into people like that? Forget the fact that I was in the vicinity of the place, or a dungeon as Henry and Terry liked to call it; it was still unbelievable. I slowly walked down the street towards the pub that was to be our meeting place. I entered through the heavy wooden doors and was swallowed by the darkness of the drinking lounge and ordered a double scotch, finding a quiet table in the corner, with a clear view of the entrance.

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   Minutes dragged and more than once, I decided that after I finish my drink I would leave. Catch a train downtown or even a taxi. This seemed like a train wreck waiting to happen. Of course, I knew I would do no such thing. Especially now, that I thought I knew who Evie was. Good half an hour later, after numerous jumps out of my chair like a virgin bride on her wedding night each time the front door opened, the light from the street outside poured in once more and as the door closed, I recognized the silhouette as the man, who was waiting on the girl called Evie. My stomach knotted and my hands started to tremble. I felt like a 17-year old boy who is just about to accomplish the ultimate conquest, having thought about nothing else throughout his teenage years. Before I could think, my hand shot up and I waved at the man, who waved back to me. ‘Trevor?’ he extended his hand as he approached my table and I nodded, extending my own hand in return, with a complete unnecessary ‘Terry?’ He smiled and nodded back. His handshake was mellow and cold, making my skin crawl. ‘So, are we ready,’ he eyed my half finished drink, ‘or shall we have one for the road?’I had already had two drinks, which were two too many at this time of the day and despite trying not to appear too eager, I knew that must have been the impression that I gave. ‘I’m ready. ’I threw a couple of banknotes onto the table next to the glass and we walked out as old buddies. ‘Over there,’ said Terry pointing to the corner, which led to the parking lot of the pub in the back.

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   ‘Excited?’ he asked as we sat in the car and I just shrugged. I could not find the words to express my true emotions. Excitement, yes. However, it was mixed with fear, discomfort, and downright terror. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, choking me. I was immensely grateful when Terry reached over to the radio and turned it on. Small talk was not what I wanted to go through right now. As we pulled off, I stole a glance at the man driving the car. He looked every bit of what he sounded like on the phone. A dodgy and fidgety character, whose sort I never had to deal with in my line of work. He was dressed in an obviously expensive leather jacket, beige pants and a sweater that held more colors than Henry’s palette, the combination clashing with any sense of style. His watery blue eyes were bulging out of his head, reminding me of a frog. His skin was pockmarked and the entire appearance of his face was unkempt and very unattractive. He drove too fast, coming to a screeching halt each time the traffic lights turned red; the music was too loud and I tried my best to keep an eye on the surroundings, however, after a few turns, I lost all sense of orientation. Stepney was not the part of town that I ever remembered visiting, anyway.

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   Terry leaned towards the radio again and turned it down to a barely audible level. ‘A couple of more turns and we’ll be there,’ he said and looked at me. The knot in my stomach just got tighter. His cold eyes seemed to pierce inside my skull. ‘You’ll like Evie, she’s great!’ I nodded. ‘So I heard,’ was all that I could muster. Terry pulled a cell phone out of is jacket and with one eye on the road, the other one on the phone, he dialed the number, put the phone to his ear and waited for a few seconds intently.

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‘Yeah, Perrin,’ he said and listened for a moment. ‘Yeah, we’re almost there, mate. ’ He listened again. ‘Alright, in one minute, okay?’He slapped the phone closed and fumbled to put it back inside the jacket pocket. ‘We’re always very careful that customers and employees do not bump into each other, you see. ’ I nodded. ‘We’re keeping it very discreet. ’ I closed my eyes for a second, there was no comment that I could think of.

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   If you only knew, shot through my mind. ‘The person that you’ll be watching,’ he said and got my undivided attention. ‘He won’t see you. It’s the way we all want it, right?’ Like a bobbing doll, I simply nodded again. Finally, Terry pulled into a small, inconspicuous parking lot behind a huge gray building. We got out and walked over to the rusty door in the corner of the building, Terry entering first. He popped his head inside and after a couple of seconds waved his hand at me to follow. I entered and was faced by a long corridor with whitewashed walls, four or five sets of blue colored doors on both sides. He ushered me through the first door on the right and closed it behind us. I found myself standing in a small, lightless room with one entire wall consisting of a window looking into the adjacent larger room behind it. ‘That’s one-way mirror,’ explained Terry. ‘They won’t be able to see you. ’ The light from the other room somewhat illuminated the space shared by Terry and I. A plain chair stood on my side of the mirror and on the floor in front of it, there were five monitors, all turned off at the time. ‘This is so you can get a close look at everything.

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  ’ Terry continued with his explanation. ‘The room has cameras and microphones. You will be able to see and hear everything. Evie knows where and how to stand to give you the best view. ’He pointed to a chair, and I plopped down, while he leaned towards the monitors and turned them on one by one. Two of them were now displaying the bed, one from the side view, the other from the front; the third monitor was pointed to a wooden pony in the corner; the next one at the chair that was standing on the other side of the mirror right in front of me, and the last monitor displayed the space just above the second bed next to a wooden pony, looking more like an exam table, complete with stirrups. As all the monitors were on, Terry took a step back and looked at them all at once. ‘Oh, by the way,’ he twitched, making me jump slightly. ‘If you want, we can bring in a girl who could be your companion while you’re watching. You can have a free reign. ’ I shook my head no. ‘Or a boy, for that matter. ’ There was no sign of mockery in his voice or his face. ‘No, thank you, I’ll be fine. ’He shrugged and walked over to the cabinet that stood behind the door, which I did not even notice until just that moment.

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   He opened it and a small light inside revealed a mini bar. He poured a drink into an expensive looking crystal glass and brought it over to me. ‘Cheers,’ he said and tried to push it in my hand. ‘No, thank you, I’ve had enough,’ I said. His eyebrows shot up and he smiled. ‘Just in case,’ he said and set the glass on top of one of the monitors. ‘If you change your mind. ’ I looked inside the other room anxiously. ‘They will be here in one minute. By the way, nobody will enter this room. You can be completely at ease. Not that anything bad will happen, but SHOULD anything happen,’ he was talking to me as if I was a child, ‘we ring a bell, which means that within twenty seconds someone will enter the room, which should leave you enough time for,…. well, you know. ’ Yes I knew, I was most certainly not a child. Yet again, I simply nodded.

 

   The entire atmosphere was a huge turn on in itself. ‘If you have a mobile, it won’t work in here. If you need anything, there is a buzzer by the door. Just press it and someone will be in to see about you. ’ As an afterthought, he stabbed his finger in the direction of the mini bar: ‘Music if you feel like it. ’With that, he winked at me, shot one last glance at the room beyond the mirror and walked out. I was left sitting on a chair, staring into the empty space beyond, for the hundredth time wondering what did I get myself into. A few seconds after Terry left, the door in the other room creaked open and a tall man in a black and green Chinese kimono entered. My eyes popped wide open at the realization that I didn’t know who the man was. I was relieved beyond words. All through my ride in Terry’s car I was terrified that Henry was going to be the one in the other room. He was just the kind of person who would not mind a little performance. I could not take that. I would have simply walked out. The man was barefoot, wobbling more than striding towards the chair that was directly in front of me on the opposite side of the mirror.

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   As I looked at his feet, it was the first time I realized that the floor was concrete, with no rug or runners to make it warmer or softer. He sat down looking in my direction, absently running one of his hands through the hair. He coughed. Ran his hand under the chin, as if checking for the beard stubble, which was not there. Seconds seemed to turn into minutes and I was edgier with every passing moment. Finally the door in the other room opened again and my heart sank. The person walking in wasn’t the girl that I thought was Evie. She was tall, true. But this bird’s hair was raven black and cut in a bob. She wore – very predictably – black leather pants with a matching vest, complete with a high-heeled black boots. Even from afar, her make-up looked too brutal to be attractive or sexy. She pushed the door shut and as it hit the frame, the man in the chair jerked a bit, but did not turn. I could see his eyes focusing on the mirror, looking at her. She took slow, deliberate steps across the room, pausing for a moment each time one of the high heels hit the floor. As she reached the man, she stood behind him and one of her hands ran through his short hair, ruffling it, destroying the carefully combed blackness with a touch of gray.

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   The man must have been in his mid 40s. Her fingers touched him and he closed his eyes as if soaking in all that her touch delivered. Without looking at him at all, her hand left his hair and she walked towards the mirror, and I realized that ever since she had entered the room her gaze was directed straight at me. I shifted uncomfortably, even though I was aware that she could not see me. She approached the mirror, pausing in front of it. Her hand now smoothed her hair and I recognized the beautiful, long, red-capped fingers. It was Evie! She looked so different. The wig, the bizarre make up of brutal black eyeliner and blood red lipstick, even a mole just above the upper lip, which must have been drawn. Her vest was cut very low, revealing the shape of small breasts, which were not big enough to make a cleavage. On the inner part of the right breast was a slightly faded black tattoo. It looked like a crane in flight. The sign of long life and prosperity! As if feeling my eyes pausing on the tattoo, her fingers slid off the wig, making their way down her chest, pausing on the image of a bird, gently rubbing it. It was as if those fingers were rubbing my cock. I could feel myself stiffening, believing that I might not be able to get through this entire session, or whatever one might want to call it. Now however, I could see the attractiveness I spotted on the train, mentally peeling away the layers of an ugly disguise.

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   I felt very happy that I was accidentally awarded the look of the real thing, which she obviously tried to keep hidden from the man in a chair. And other customers, no doubt. I did not want to think of all the men she worked with. I did not want to think of them as customers. I was oddly enchanted with this girl, who appeared like a delicate bird herself. Despite the grayness that tainted my view of the room, I started doubting that this was a one-way mirror and not a proper window. Her gaze seemed to relentlessly hold my own, making the experience quite unnerving. Finally, she smiled and I could see a set of small pearly white teeth, just like I would envision, had I tried to imagine what she looked like smiling. The smile did not reach her eyes. She puckered her blood red lips and blew me a kiss, and then her eyes finally left the spot where she believed my face was and without turning her head, her stare found the man in the chair. ‘Hello, darling!’ she said and the man noticed her looking at him. He shifted and smiled. Her voice was deep and dusky, not at all what I would have expected from Evie on the train. However, it seemed perfect for the Evie that was now standing in front of me. She turned around and faced the man; her small bum and long, slim legs were accentuated by the tightness of the pants she wore.

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   Her figure now blocked my view of the man and I looked at the monitor, which revealed the chair, seeing the man smiling openly. She slowly walked over to him, paused in front of the chair and then sat in his lap, facing him, each leg on one side, almost enveloping it, as if riding a horse. ‘Have you been a good boy?’ she asked softly and took his face in her hands. She closed her eyes and slowly lowered her face towards his, her lips gently touching his forehead. He kept his eyes on hers as long as he could see them; when her lips touched him, his eyes closed, too. They looked like a pair of gentle lovers. She placed her hands onto his wrists and slowly slipped them up his arms, over the shoulders, tickling his neck for a second, then cupping his face again, her lips now gently pressing against his. ‘Have you?’ she asked and pressed another kiss, this time on his right cheek. ‘Been a good boy, I mean?’ Next kiss gently landed on the left cheek. The man did not say a word. He only grinned and his eyebrows shot up, giving him an appearance of a man caught in the act, trying to brush off the guilt. She leaned back some, as if trying to take in as much of a man while sitting in his lap. Her right hand left his face and ran up to the hair on the top of the head, her fingers grabbing a handful of it, pushing his head back with the grip obviously becoming tighter and tighter. ‘No?’ she asked as if he answered audibly. The man awkwardly shook his head no, still grinning.

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   ‘I thought as much,’ she said and stood up, still holding onto his hair. She stepped to his right side and now pulled on the hair, tilting his head all the way back as if trying to snap his neck. ‘What are we going to do about that, then?’ her voice was vibrating sensuality and my cock joined the vibration of its rhythm. She stepped behind him now, still pulling onto his hair, keeping his head back, her other hand landing gentle smacks on his right cheek. I stole an anxious glace towards the door of my room, my hand slipping towards the zipper of my pants. All of a sudden I realized that there was a genuine possibility of cameras, hidden or otherwise in my room as well. For a moment I paused, my eyes searching for the telltale signs of electronic intruders. I heard a louder smack and as I turned towards the couple in front of me, I saw that she was smacking his cheek harder now. I ignored my paranoia of the camera and unzipped my pants. My hand slipped inside them, freeing my rock hard cock of its restrains and firmly enveloping it with my entire palm. If there really were cameras in the room, I was certain that whoever was watching had seen it all before, and would not care for my reaction to a very sensual and sexy performance that was unraveling in front of my very eyes. After all, this is what I was here for. Evie let go of the man’s hair and stopped smacking him. She put her hands on his shoulders, slid them under the edges of the robe and pushed it off his body. His upper torso looked firm, with traces of built up muscles.

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   His chest was slightly hairy and as she reached over him from behind, spreading his robe away from his lap, revealing his strong thighs, and a large, wide cock, which seemed to be in the same state of arousal as mine. I was never the one to sigh over a man’s naked body, not even to look at one properly except in art, but with Evie present, the scene appeared beautiful and sexy. I started stroking my own hardness, not wanting to finish fast, despite my body aching for the ultimate relief. Evie straightened up and pushed the man off the chair, making him slide off it awkwardly, landing on his knees. ‘Get off,’ she said needlessly and pulled the now empty chair away from him. She walked around the chair and sat in it, her legs spread wide, one on each side of the seat, revealing the big opening in the crotch of the pants, which I had not noticed before while she was standing up. Her hand slid between her legs and she gently rubbed one of her palms over her shaved pussy, sighing and tilting her head back, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. As the hand moved up and down, I could catch glimpses of her clitty. The man knelt in front of her, naked, looking at her face as if he did not notice the inviting pinkness of her pussy that I simply could not ignore. Her hand rubbed up and down her crotch for a while, my own hand catching its rhythm, pleasuring my cock. I wished she’d open her vest, so that I could see what the crane was looking at. Her boobs looked very small, but from experience, I knew that smaller breasts kept their beautiful shape for longer. Besides, Evie was young enough to still have impeccable rack, providing she had no kids. One never knows these days, but she did not strike me as a mother. Her appearance as a dominatrix had nothing to do with that impression, I believe.

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   ‘Clean them!’ she ordered and thrust her boot towards the guy kneeling on the floor. She made sure that the chair was spun around and I had a perfect side view of the pair of them. The naked man bent forward, striking me like a Muslim in deep prayer. He supported his weight with his hands, each on the side of the boot; his head bowed obediently and for a quick moment he rested his forehead on the part of the boot, which covered her toes. No doubt they were just as perfect as the fingers. He lifted his forehead and landed a soft kiss on the boot. ‘Nnnnnooooo!’ she yelled as her leg twitched into a kick, hitting the man on the side of the face, making him fall over on his side. ‘I said, clean ‘em, you bastard!’Hurriedly, the man picked himself off the floor, fidgeting back into a kneeling position and started licking the boot. First, the licks were short and quick, followed by longer strokes of the tongue, sliding down the sides of the boot towards the heel. ‘That’s it,’ said Evie smiling. ‘You might be of some use yet. ’ The man kept licking, covering the entire lower part of the boot and I could see her shining clean boot becoming covered in a watery glow of his spit. As he started towards the upper part of the boot, his hand reached for the hem of the pant hose to lift it up. Another kick, so swift that it made my head jerk back, landed on the side of his face. ‘Don’t bloody touch me!’ she yelled and the man abandoned the attempt.

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   ‘Hold on,’ she said, now leaning forward, inspecting his work. She shrugged her head as if not completely satisfied, however, not truly complaining either. ‘Now, the other one!’ she commanded and thrust the other foot forward. As before, the man obeyed, cleaning the boot with his tongue; his face a mask of indifference, although I suspected that the shoe polish that had been used on the boots to make them shine must have tasted absolutely awful. It’s just one of those things one knows, without ever actually tasting it. I slowed the hand on my cock a bit. This was not quite as much of a turn on for me. The humiliation was interesting, but it was not what I would call my cup of tea, you understand. My eyes left the man’s tongue and peeped towards Evie’s left hand, which was now again pressed against her crotch, massaging softly. I wondered if she really got enjoyment from this, or was this just an act that she had to put on. For my own sake, I chose the latter, despite the notice that her breathing had become shallow. Her small breasts waving in and out of her torso with each air of breath inhaled and then pushed back out through her slightly parted lips. For one horrid moment, Evie’s black wig turned strawberry blond, hair falling down her shoulders to the mid back in a soft mane, curling at the ends. Her delicate face seemed to become slightly wider, her black eyes blue; I grabbed my chest as for one frightening second I thought my youngest daughter Sadie sat in the chair, letting this pathetic man lick her boots. I closed my eyes and lightly shook my head.

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   When my gaze returned to the chair, it was Evie I saw. What on earth was this? My sudden realization that this could have been my daughter and I would be none the wiser? My fear that someone in my family might find out of what I was doing? There was no way that could happen, I trusted Henry that much. God, I didn’t want to toy with the possibility that for a split second I wished it were Sadie. I almost jumped out of the chair. The open zipper and my manhood unceremoniously hanging out of my pants prevented me from doing just that. The man in the other room was pathetic? What did that make me? ‘Alright,’ said Evie, breaking my line of thoughts. The man continued to lick as if not hearing her. ‘Hey! I said,…. . ’ she said loudly, not quite yelling, the boot that had the honor to be cleaned first, pushing against the man’s chest, making him fall on his arse, ‘…. . enough!’ She got out of a chair and started pacing with slow, deliberate steps, circling around the man and the chair like a buzzard. I shivered with the thought of how cold the cement floor must have felt against his bare skin. ‘Now,’ she said, continuing to circle, stealing a glance in my direction every time she stepped behind the man’s back. By this time, he got up, kneeling as told in the first place.

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   ‘Let me guess. ’ She nodded to herself, then looked into the mirror and nodded towards me. My hand intensified the squeeze on my cock. Before today, I could never believe that someone’s glance could be that arousing. ‘No, actually,’ she seemed to change her mind. ‘Why don’t you tell me, what a naughty boy you’ve been?’ The man was not smiling any longer. His eyes followed her as she was pacing around the chair and as far as they could when she was walking past him, without turning his head. ‘Well?’ she asked and the man murmured something that I could not understand. ‘What?’ she asked and leaned over his shoulder, her cheek touching his. ‘I didn’t hear that. ’The man murmured again, Evie patiently listening for an answer. When he finished whatever he was telling her, his head bowed down, however, her torso shot straight up, her head swung back and she barked a hoarse screech. ‘Don’t make me laugh!’ she said and I noticed that the laugh lasted for only a few moments; there was no smile to accompany the amusement. Her face became a mask of cruelty. She walked over to the chair and sat down just as she had a little while ago; legs spread wide, soles of the boots resting flat on each side of the chair.

 

   I wished that instead of the kneeling man, I were able to see what the crotchless pants revealed. ‘I’m not a bloody priest!’ she exclaimed, ‘I don’t give two shits about your lying,’ her voice softened a little. Silence followed her outburst and Evie’s head cocked to one side as if trying to solve a puzzle by simply concentrating on its complexity. Again, she reminded me of a bird. ‘Alright, then,’ she said and her eyebrows arched as if she was fed up and had given in to the little game the man tried to play. ‘What else?’ The man’s head shook from side to side in denial. Evie slumped forward, her torso resting between her legs, her fingers grabbing the man’s face under the chin. ‘What else?’ she asked, giving the impression that whatever he said, she knew what the real answer was, despite his obviously desperate try to hide it. ‘What about your sister?’ she asked, and my stomach turned. ‘Have you again thought about your little sister?’ The man shook his head no. ‘Sure?’ A nod followed her question. ‘You did not think about your sister?’ The man shook his head again. ‘No?’ She pushed her head so close to his face that her nose was almost touching his. ‘But you see, I know that is not true. I know you think about her a lot.

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  ’ This time it was her turn at nodding. ‘I know you think how it used to be. When she wanked you off and you enjoyed it!’ This time, there was no nodding or shaking of the head. The man’s face smoothed over, his ears pushed slightly back like in a cat ready to pounce, and for a moment I thought this was an expression of his anger and that he would punch her in the face. ‘You think about that, don’t you?’ Their faces were perfectly still. Two pair of eyes did not blink. The bodies were like sculptures, if they were to move, it would be to break in half. ‘You do, I know you do,’ she whispered and closed her eyes. The man closed his eyes, too. Her fingers brushed his cheek softly, rubbed the bridge of his nose and caressed his eyes. ‘And that’s bad!’ ‘Yes,’ a soft whimper escaped the man’s chest. He bowed his head and the face cringed in attempt to cry. A tear actually slid down his face. I was mortified. Did I want to be this intimate with them? With him? ‘You think about that when you’re fucking your girlfriend, don’t you?’ her voice was still barely audible whisper.

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   ‘Yes,’ so was his. ‘You think about that when you’re alone,’ he nodded, ‘in the shower. ’ His head kept repeating the motion of admission. ‘Ye…ee. . es,’ now, he was actually crying. ‘Ooooh,’ she let out a deep breath, sounding like she felt sorry for him. She felt sorry for what was to come, as the naughtiness of this man needed to be punished and she was to be the executioner of that. Evie pressed her full lips on his now, sucking on them and slipping her tongue in between. It was a passionate kiss, the kind you give to someone you want to know you care. The kind of kisses my teenage years were full of. The kind of kiss I haven’t felt in a long time, not really. The kind of kiss I was dying to feel at this very moment. I wished I were there, kneeling in front of Evie, my face in her hands, her tongue brushing my lips, my teeth, my own tongue. I closed my eyes and tried to picture that the squeeze on my cock was by her lips, not my hand.

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   My balls were throbbing, I was very close to cumming and nothing extreme had even happened yet. Evie was like a priestess of passion, pleasuring one man with her mere presence, the other one with her touch. I let go go of my cock for a few minutes, forcing it to calm down. I wanted to enjoy this as long as I could. My heart was racing and I could feel the coldness of sweat beads that gathered on my forehead. I was lost in the whirl of what I saw as well as what I fantasized of. I heard the chair scrape on the cement floor and opened my eyes. Evie was now standing, the man looking straight up at her, admiration and not really fear, but rather weariness mixed on his face. She stepped away from him, and with her bum swaying like a branch in the soft breeze, walked away from him towards the closet in the corner of the room, next to the entrance. She opened it and revealed a menagerie of whips, chains, and paddles hanging on one side of the closet like carefully arranged ties. The other side was broken into a number of narrow cubbyholes, each filled with objects. From little that I could see, some of the objects were dildos and butt plugs, accompanied by jars and tubes, no doubt filled with ointment and lubricants. Her body in front of the closet hid a lot of what was inside, but the mere glimpse of the goods made me all hot again. I squeezed my cock tighter, fearing that I would not be able to contain myself for much longer. She leaned into the closet, unhooking two whips, tucking them under her arm.

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   Her free hand extended into one of the cubbyholes and she rummaged through, pulling out different objects, which were immediately hidden from my eyes by her body. Each time, she would return the object back to its original place, and browse around for another one. Finally, as if satisfied with her search, she turned around, holding an object in the shape of the candle flame, a large one, mind you. It took me a second to realize that this was some sort of a butt plug. It must have been made of glass, as the light hitting it pounced off and made a pattern on the wall to Evie’s right side. Anywhere that flame-looking thing would go, I knew it would hurt, and I cringed. She couldn’t shove it down his throat, surely. So, there was only one other place on a man where it would fit. My eyebrows shot up as I closed my eyes and dramatically shook my head. Crazy people! She pushed the closet door closed with the heel of her boot and with calculated deliberation walked back to the chair, in front of which, the man was still sitting on the floor. Here it goes, I braced myself in anticipation. .