Chambers of Sin
Victor
‘On your knees, in front of
me.’
I dropped and sat on my
heels. My knees stuck to the cheap
laminate. I bowed my head. I noticed a flake of onion skin floating
like an insect’s wing near the kitchen cupboard. The edges of the PVC hood and jock strap that she had made me
wear chafed pleasurably. Beth stood
before me; her feet set apart, a riding crop jutting out from her hip.
‘Entertain me.’
I spread my knees apart and
gazed up at her, surveying her full, beautiful length.
‘Wank yourself, for
me.’ She commanded, ‘Now.’
I slipped my fingers behind
the tight, sticky fabric and stroked the smooth skin of my cock. Beth lowered herself slowly against the
worktop. Her dark eyes scoured me. She said nothing for exactly ten minutes, between
14.12 and 14.22. I watched the white
clock above the sink.
‘This is not entertaining.’
I shrugged and removed my
hand, wiping my clammy palms on my straining thighs.
‘You are nowhere near
orgasm.’ She continued, ‘What do we
call that?’
‘Not good enough, mistress.’
I muttered.
Beth clicked behind me and I
felt the lace of her corset scratch down my back as she squatted. Her slim hand, tipped with blood red nails
trailed down my chest and over my belly seeking my manhood. I began to stiffen irresistibly.
‘I suppose you think that
you deserve another round with the riding crop?’
‘Whatever your will may be,
mistress, I endeavour to – ‘
Her grip tightened on my
balls, my erection was rapidly growing and escaping from her fist.
‘You, in my bedroom in the
next five minutes. Understand?’
She swept out of the
kitchenette, across the lounge and through a door into her bedroom. This time, I wasn’t watching the clock. I was confused. Beth had never invited me into the bedroom. As I had understood our arrangement, she was
not a prostitute so why would she want me in her bedroom? My erection bloomed, rubbing against the
tight pants. I walked as if in a trance
to her bedroom and knocked.
‘Come!’
I opened the door,
slowly. I had been coming for sessions
twice a week for five months and I had never seen the room that lay behind this
door. The bed was a king size, the
frame comprised of vertical, gunmetal bars.
The covers were black. Beth had
laid out two pairs of military grade handcuffs and two sets of chain gang style
shackles on the bed. I tried to swallow
but my tongue had tried to ash.
‘Aren’t those types of
restraints illegal to sell to the public nowadays?’
I had to force the words
out. I didn’t like where this was
heading. I hadn’t come here for sex, I
had come here for my dose of pain.
‘I bought them before that
stupid law came in. They’re very hard
wearing.’
‘Is that so, mistress?’ I winced, trying to buy time, standing half
in and half outside of the room.
‘Shut up. On your back, on the bed, now.’
I put my hands up in
surrender.
‘Time out.’
She walked across to me and
grabbed me by the shoulders.
‘Time out?’ She repeated, ‘Why, Mr. Chambers? I haven’t done anything to you yet.’
I stood up to my full height
and looked down at her.
‘I am the client and if I
say time out then I want time out.
Don’t fuck me about or I won’t pay you.’
She took her hands away and
rolled her black lined eyes to the ceiling.
‘What’s wrong, Mr.
Chambers?’ Beth sighed, flopping down on her bed.
I sat down as far from her
as I could, trying not to slide on the pillows.
‘I don’t want sex. I want a dominatrix, not a prostitute. I made that perfectly clear when I answered
your advertisement.’ I asserted as much
as one can assert through the unzipped slit in a PVC hood.
She crossed her legs beneath
herself as though meditating.
‘I wasn’t going to give you
sex. I’m a professional, please try to
trust me.’
I felt ridiculous, arguing
with this woman in a plastic hood but I didn’t want to take it off.
‘I’m sorry mistress. I know you are.’
She nodded and reached over
to stroke my arm.
‘That’s right, Mr.
Chambers. Now, please try to be a good
slave. You’ll get much more out of our
sessions if you learn to lose those inhibitions.’
‘Are you charging me extra
for this therapy?’
She crawled toward me,
smirking.
‘What kind of a question is
that, slave?’
‘It’s a client’s
question. Answer me, please.’
‘Am I not worth extra?’ She jibed.
‘What kind of an answer is
that?’
I stroked her long, shiny
brown hair, running it between my fingers.
‘The answer of a mistress to
her slave.’
The loss of any control I
might have stolen over this situation to her made sexual energy thrill through
me like a jab of a sword through my gut.
‘Lie down, like I told you
in the first place.’
I did it. I stared at the ceiling through the unzipped
slits in the mask. She clipped cold
metal, tight around my wrists and ankles.
Her thighs gripped my ribs as she straddled me and they were damp with
her juices. I wriggled because I
couldn’t help but mistrust her. With a
pussy as wet as that, anything could happen but I did not speak up. She zipped my eyes shut. Her weight disappeared from across my chest
and she walked away. I waited in
darkness, listening to her heels clicking across the kitchenette. Goose bumps tingled up the inside of my
raised arms.
‘I’m going to brand
you.’ She announced.
I jumped, rattling my
chains. I had not heard her enter.
‘You’re going to do
what?!’ I shouted.
Panic flushed all over my
spread body.
‘I’m going to brand you.’
I felt the mattress dip next
to me as she lent against it. I tested
my bonds but they were secure.
‘You’ll have to kill me as
well as brand me. If I get out of these
handcuffs, I’m going to slit your fucking throat and watch you bleed out on my
shoes.’
‘I don’t think I like your
attitude.’
Her knuckles bit into my
cheek as she slammed her hand across my face.
I began to struggle ferociously.
My ankle bones were shot through with the agony of bruising, the rattling
and clanking was unbearably loud.
‘You can’t escape, they’re
locked, Victor.’
I knew that this was true
but still I struggled.
‘Time out! Time out!
I mean it!’
A sizzling sound, like the
drip of fat onto a barbecue coal came from my right.
‘Oh, it’s hot enough, then.’
My whole body writhed. I didn’t care about the crushing pain in my
wrists and ankles. The darkness closed
around me like the inside of a giant’s fist.
‘Time out! You bitch.’
‘No more time out for you.’
The sizzling again, this
time closer.
‘Fuck!’ I screamed.
‘I think I will begin by
branding your balls.’ She stated,
calmly.
‘I’m going to fucking sue
you for every penny. I’m make sure you
get a sadistic pimp who gives you clients with STDs whilst you live on the
street.’ I babbled.
‘It may well make you
impotent.’ She continued smoothly.
‘He’ll beat you senseless
every morning so you can only get the meanest, ugliest clients.’
‘I’m going to do it
now. Please stay still and be quiet.’
‘The fuck I won’t.’
I made a last dire attempt
to escape, almost pulling my elbows apart at the joint.
‘If you struggle, I might
get your cock as well.’
My body seemed suddenly
paralysed but I continued to roar out screams of terror. As she applied it, the sensation was indeed
unbearable. An immense ache flashed up
into my gut, splitting me in two. My
screams reached their most intense peak.
She held it there and held it there.
There would be nothing left of me.
I could see it in my mind, red hot and glowing, pressed against me.
Then as suddenly as the
sensation had started, it stopped. She
unzipped my eyes. The first thing that
I saw was a pan on top of a gas camping stove with a glass of water next to
it. I turned my head to look up at her,
gaping in fear and agony. Beth was
grasping a large ball of ice in her fist.
It dripped down her arm and onto the bed, melted by my body heat. The smile that sliced her face was pure
evil. I let out a gasp of
humiliation. It was all I could manage
to whisper;
‘You bitch, you bitch, you
bitch.’ Sharply, under my breath.
She dropped the ice into its
mould and uncuffed me. I sat as son as
I was able and slouched miserably, my feet on the floor. Beth sat behind me and wrapped her soft arms
around me. Her warm breasts pressed
either side of my spine. Her mouth was
against my neck. I felt an ache form in
my throat. I blinked back tears and bit
my lip.
‘I’m sorry, Beth.’
She rubbed my arms, slowly
up and down with her chilled palms.
‘Mr. Chambers, I mean,
Victor, if you need to cry, I…don’t mind.’
At this, I pulled off the
mask. Silent tears slid down my cheeks
and tasted of salt between my lips. I
put my head in my hands.
‘I should have let go. I should have trusted you, as you asked.’
‘It’s alright, Victor,
perhaps I shouldn’t have done that to you yet.
I don’t usually do it so soon to my slaves. It must have been a shock to you.’
I hunched my shoulder
suspiciously.
‘Why are you talking to me
like that?’
When I turned she was
hugging her knees to her chest and she refused to look me in the eye. I frowned at her.
‘If you really want to know
why then meet me at three in the café down the road, tomorrow.’
I stared at her a bit longer
but she did not shift. It was clear
that I was dismissed. I went into the
lounge and snatched up my trousers from where they had languished for the last
two hours between the coffee table and the couch. As I pulled them on, I kicked a pile of books off the cluttered
table.
‘Shit!’ I hissed, stooping to pick them up.
‘Are you ok?’
‘Fine!’
I didn’t want to see
her. I just wanted to leave. To scour the filthy weakness from my pores
with a shower so hot that it will send me cooked lobster red. Her head and shoulder popped around the
doorframe.
‘You know…It’s ok
Victor. Please don’t run off like
this. Have some tea with me.’
I gave up on stacking the
books and pulled out my wallet.
‘There’s your fee.’
I waved the money but she
wouldn’t step forward so I put it under the ashtray. The end of a spliff was degrading in filth, there.
‘It’s under the ashtray as
usual.’
She disappeared into her
bedroom.
‘Did you hear me?’ I called.
‘I fucking heard you!’ She screamed.
I
didn’t see her but the bedroom door slammed.
I stared guiltily at the pile of books strewn over the floor and chewed
my lip. I sighed and pulled out an
extra hundred punds for her. As I
closed the bed sit door behind me and headed down the stairs her voice echoed
after me. She was crying.
