Missing the Signs

I insisted that we ate first and I booked a little trattoria that I knew just outside the centre. It seemed to strike the right note with its mixed clientele ranging from students to young professionals.

I tried to get her talking over the meal but she kept the conversation light. More than once I contemplated the fact that she was not the best looking woman I had ever been out with nor, but some stretch, was she the most intellectual but there was something about her.

To my mind the term 'magnetic attraction' when applied to a relationship was a nonsense but I was being forced to rethink. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, the possibility that the attraction worked both ways.

Any hopes that she had forgotten about the club were dashed when she suggested that we take a cab. As before, a few discrete words with the doorman were enough to get us in.

It was far busier than our last visit. The bars upstairs were filled and there were people on the dance floor but Zoe headed straight for the basement.

After I adjusted to the dimmer lighting I found that it was a different atmosphere. This time there was a mixed crowd of dominant males and females and, I have to admit, that, like it or loathe it, the sight of some of the scantily clad 'slave girls' was very easy on the eye.

Zoe found us a quieter table on the balcony and I was shocked when a woman across the room raised her glass to me. Tonight, she was more normally dressed but the tight three quarter length evening dress looked stunning on her.

Her two companions, seated either side, still stood out. They were wearing identical designer suits with silk ties and would have graced the cover of any men's fashion magazine but it was still obvious to everyone that they were in her thrall.

The temptation to cross the room and say my piece was strong but I bit my tongue and focused on Zoe.

She looked at me intently before she started speaking.

"Look, what I am about to tell you may sound stupid ludicrous and, if you want to leave, I will understand. I've just come out of a relationship, a guy named Duncan."

"The guy who painted the murals?"

"That's right. How did you guess?"

"Well whoever painted them had to be pretty broad minded and I would say that covers one of your major criteria."

I did not like where this conversation was going but she smiled and pecked me on the cheek.

"You are so clever…"

"So why did you break up?"

She paused awkwardly before answering.

"Have you noticed how I eat?"

It was an odd question but, as it happens, I had noticed.

"You cut up your food very finely and chew well. I assumed your mothers influence."

"Not quite. I have a very exaggerated gag reflex I can't swallow too much at a time."

For a few seconds I wondered what any of this had to do with her break up and suddenly realization dawned.

She saw the understanding in my eyes and put her hand on mine.

"I can't go down on a man. I've wanted to, so many times, but it doesn't work for me. Duncan and I really had something going but I knew it wasn't fair on him. That's why I called it off."

I moved across to sit next to her on the banquette and drew her head to my chest. I told her that it was not important, that all that mattered was being together, and there was a truth in that. Unfortunately a more cynical part of my mind was suggesting that she had simply not yet met the right man, someone gentle enough and understanding.

She looked up at me with adoring eyes.

"You are so great. When you went down on me it was simply the best. I can't bear the thought of not being able to reciprocate."

I gave her further reassurances and she squeezed my hand.

"When I first saw you I in that bar I thought you were the usual city boy, a handsome bastard but no sense of adventure, then I brought you here and you were a real sport. Do you think we can really make a go of this?"

I laughed, as much in relief as anything, and then she suggested, conspiratorially, that we take a peek downstairs. I was immediately wary but, if truth be told, I was curious to know if the men made as imaginative use of the facilities as the women had on our previous visit.

Perhaps it was too early in the evening but, disappointingly, all the private rooms were empty. I was about to suggest we try again later when she tugged at my hand.

"Wait, I want to try something."

She pulled me into the 'hospital' room with its three beds and closed the door behind us.

"I want to do it, like that woman did."

To say I was reluctant was an understatement but I was now the understanding guy who was 'simply the best'. Even as I tried to think up an excuse I was checking the observation panel in the door to make sure it was shut.

Her excitement had an infectiousness and it would only take a few moments to really seal the deal.

With an indulgent smile I lay prone on the nearest bed but I sat up again as she reached for a webbing strap.

"Please, just a couple, that's the real fun of it."

I let her bind one loosely across my chest and a second across my thighs; if the symbolism was important to her there was little harm in it.

I grew more concerned when she settled my head into the cushioned moulding. It was a snug fit to begin with but, as she turned a valve, there was a hiss of air and it inflated to hold me fast.

I checked my range of movement but it was absolutely zero. Not only could I not move my head from side to side I could not lift it. The cushioned material curved over my cheek bones to almost touch my nose.

I hoped my growing anxiety was not showing but Zoe was following her own agenda. She positioned the platform beneath me and seconds later she was astride my head looking down into my eyes,

"Look at you, so helpless."

I did not appreciate the slightly mocking tone but there was no denying the truth of it.

She had removed her skirt and panties and her tight sex was positioned over my mouth. She relaxed her legs and lowered herself slowly. The cushioning took some of her weight, to the extent that she did not quite come to rest on my face, but it also had another effect.

It splayed her sex and, almost immediately, a single drip fell into my mouth. I closed it reflexively but the steady tattoo continued until there was moisture running across my closed lips.

"Are you getting wet down there?"

The clarity of her voice was startling, transmitted somehow to speakers set into the headpiece. I could also feel a gentle waft of cool air around my face presumably to ensure that victims were not accidently suffocated.

"Lick me!"

I caught the hint of mischievousness in her voice as I made the long stretch upwards. I could only just reach and licked blindly at her moist centre. My reward was wetter face but judging by the creaking of the moulding as she slowly squirmed I was having a measure of success.

She kept me at it for a few minutes and I was set to gently take hold of her hips to signal that enough was enough when she reached backwards.

"Oh no you don't."

She laughed as she tugged at the webbing strap across my chest. I felt it tighten pinning my arms more securely to my sides,

"You've got to make me come first."

She was still laughing but I was getting irritated. I had assumed that she had simply wanted to give it a try and, for my part, I guess I was hoping to get her just hot enough to want to come back to my place.

With a spark of petulance I withdrew my tongue.

"Oh, come on baby, don't be like that."

She wriggled playfully but I did not oblige; I was soon wishing I had.

I heard a slow escape of air and the narrow gap between us closed to nothing. I was now bearing her weight on my face and the cushioning welded us together.

In seconds I had gone from relative comfort to a living nightmare. My nose was closed off and her sex pressed demandingly against my mouth. I fought down a rising wave of claustrophobia as I broke out into a cold sweat.

I wanted to shout at her but I suspected that the sound would not travel and she might misinterpret my anguish for excitement.

I did the only thing I could and that was to do as she demanded. I opened my mouth and put out my tongue.

The immediate effect was that she sank even further so that her sex wedged my mouth open with my lips reluctantly forming a seal. I licked frantically, trying to make her ease up a little, but she grew increasingly stimulated.

"Oh yeah!...Eat me!"

This must have gone on for some minutes during which time my breathing became more panicked and the lack of oxygen made me start to zone out.

I was telling myself that I must work on her clitoris but in the sultry heat and wetness I was growing more confused.

When the end came it was more the novelty of the equipment, and perhaps my helplessness, that provided the trigger as opposed to anything I managed to achieve with my tongue.

Her body stiffened, granting me momentary relief, as she went into meltdown and her squeals of ecstasy hurt my ears.

In the immediate aftermath she did not even have the strength to lift herself and I was again subjected to a Chinese water torture as her sex leaked its excess.

Her voice, when it came, was unsteady and still shrill with excitement.

"You've really set me off. I've got to use the loo…unless…no, I don't think you're quite ready for that."

The import of her words left me so stunned that I did not even shout after her as she skipped away.

I was left by myself to the silence of the room when it occurred to me that she had not even bothered to dress but then, in a place as bizarre as this, who would care?

Almost immediately I tried to get myself free but the strapping across my chest hampered my movements and I could not get enough leverage to raise my head. I could partially move my legs but that was all; I was going nowhere fast.

Her returning footsteps brought huge relief but the wrong blonde eclipsed my view.

"Well, well, we seem to a making a habit of this."

On seeing my nemesis I felt the uncomfortable echo of the pain she had inflicted on me on my previous visit and I felt bile rising.

"Just fuck off and leave me alone."

She smiled and allowed the tip of her ponytail to tickle my captive face.

"You're obviously not familiar with the rules. Anyone found down here is fair game."

I made another frustrated effort to free myself as I replied.

"You try anything, and I will hurt you so badly…"

She laughed at my threat and mounted the platform setting herself astride my head. At the same time she lifted her dress to reveal her lack of underwear.

"Don't you find it beautiful? Surely you want just a little taste?"

For a second I wondered how that might be achieved. Her thick labia were pierced and each was set with a fine gold ring. A slender chain bound them together. After getting over my initial shock I spat an insult.

"Shouldn't you be trying to find yourself a blacksmith?"

A hint of a smile played on her lips as she ran a single finger through her sex and dabbed it on my nose. With that she alighted from the platform.

I was chalking it up as a minor victory when she returned to look down into my eyes.

"Have you had you fill of women for now? Do you want something else?"

Between her thumb and finger she was holding something that looked like a car tyre in miniature. She applied a little pressure and distorted it into an oval. I was still trying to divine its purpose when a strong hand grabbed at my trousers and firmly squeezed my balls.

Tears sprang to my eyes and my mouth opened in pain. As I did so she deftly placed the 'tyre' between my teeth and released it. It immediately resumed its original shape keeping my mouth open in the process.

I frantically tried to dislodge it but my teeth were caught in its ridged rim. With an effort I could close it but I did not have the strength in my jaw to keep it that way.

My eyes widened in horror as she disappeared only to return with a simple plastic funnel. With calculated coldness she slowly inserted it into my mouth.

"No one refuses me…"

As though choreographed her two minions appeared at her side and I desperately tried to shake my head as they began to unfasten their trousers. They were both averagely endowed but to my terrified eyes their erections assumed the proportions of giants.

She laughed as I tried to scream an entreaty. Without being told they took up station on either side of me and then she appeared between them. She took one in each hand and directed each of them the mouth of the funnel.

"Okay, the first one to come gets whipped. The winner gets to go down on me for the rest of the night"

With that she began to stroke them as I feverishly, but impotently, tried to bite the funnel closed.

She showed no partiality stroking them both with a slow, regular, rhythm whilst she continued to ignore my ever more desperate attempts to beg.

I wanted to close myself down, to curl up into myself, but the opening to the real world was through my mouth and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

She was a mistress of her craft and she used the pads of her thumbs to coax their glans. Both men were groaning now with the effort of holding back but she was unremitting as she continued to draw them on.

They had their eyes closed, both sweating, and then, to my own dismay, I felt myself coming to erection. There was no rational explanation for it. I was abhorred by what was happening but it was almost as if I could feel her fingers working on me.

What came next seemed to happen in slow motion. One of them broke, the look of surrender evident from his face just before its physical manifestation. I closed my eyes but I could not shut out the hideous sound from the funnel.

I then suffered long seconds of anguish before my mouth was filled with viscous, salty, goo. Even as I swallowed my stomach was rebelling and I tried desperately to keep it under control

I opened my eyes, in the hope that she would take pity, but she smiled as she milked him of every last drop. At the finish his expression of contentment was replaced by one of fearful remorse as he no doubt contemplated the price he had to pay.

His companion, by contrast, could afford to relax but now she played a new game as she held him on the edge knowing that his agony of expectation was equally matched by mine.

Over the next couple of minutes she teased him to the brink only to continually deny him but when the dam finally broke he came like a fire hose gushing into the funnel so quickly that I could see the level rise with the excruciating knowledge that it only had one place to go.

I swallowed but the taste still invaded my mouth and lingered. It reminded me a little of chlorine but it had no disinfectant quality. Just then I would have sold my soul for a toothbrush and an inch of Colgate

When she was done she calmly removed the funnel whilst her companions fixed their clothes. When they were done she eased the 'tyre' from my mouth and left me without another word.

I wanted to rage at her but it was a while before my abused jaw began to cooperate again. By the time I had worked some life back into it Zoe reappeared.

"I'm really sorry I've been gone so long but there's someone you have to meet."

Chapter 5

I went to the men's room where my stomach finally surrendered. I was in no mood for meeting new people but I tidied myself up as best I could and stopped off at the bar where I purchased a large brandy and downed it in one.

From across the room I saw Zoe seated at a table in company with a man who was attracting a lot of attention from people of both sexes to which he was totally oblivious.

I regard myself as a reasonable specimen but he was in a different league. The was something almost effeminate about his thick, curly, hair, which he wore long, but this was offset by his strong features and his rangy build. If they were casting for the Olympian pantheon then he was in with a good shout.

Somehow, without being told, I knew this had to be Duncan and I felt a pang of jealousy.

Zoe caught sight of me and excitedly beckoned me over. Introductions were made but I responded coolly. More cocktails arrived and I was conscious that I was probably overdoing it but I felt to hell with it.

I wanted to hate him but he turned out to be a really nice guy. For an artist he seemed well versed in any number of subjects and had a knowledge of sport that rivalled my own.

At some point Zoe disappeared to the ladies room and it was a few seconds before I even noticed she had gone. Duncan leaned in a little closer.

"They've asked me to paint another mural and I was going to ask Zoe to help out. I just wanted to make sure that you're cool with that."

He had no reason to ask for my opinion but I thought better of him because he had. I told him that I had no problem with it and he smiled warmly.

"You're a really lucky guy. Zoe is really something special. The truth is I think she was a little too much for me. We get along better now we're just friends."

Zoe came back with yet more drinks and Duncan told her about the new commission. She was excited at the prospect and when he told her that he had already drafted a few preliminary ideas it seemed only natural to accept his invitation to come and take a look at them.

His studio was just a short taxi ride away and came as a big surprise. This was no lonely artist's garret; he occupied the whole upper floor of a warehouse conversion overlooking the river. He was clearly more successful than I had imagined.

The studio area was defined by a series of huge skylights which let on to an open plan living space. It was sparsely, but tastefully, furnished and would have graced an interior design magazine. The kitchen was a contemporary mix of polished concrete and zinc whilst the sleeping area housed an oversized bed and I could not help but picture Duncan and Zoe together on it.

He produced a bottle of chilled Stolichnaya Elit from the freezer, along with some chilled shot glasses and we continued to drink as they pored over the drawings.

I began to feel decidedly strange. Normally an excess of alcohol makes me sleepy but, whilst I felt a little weary, my mind was buzzing; it was more akin to the couple of occasions when I had dropped a tab of ecstasy.

Zoe took my hand and led me towards the sleeping area.

"You have to hear this!"

She pushed me down onto the bed and squatted down next to me. At a press of a button we were suddenly surrounded by sound. I could now see that the corner posts of the bed doubled as column speakers and a slow ambient dance track washed over us.

There must have been a bass speaker secreted elsewhere as I could literally feel the rhythm transmitted therapeutically through the bed itself. It felt so relaxing and when she began to kiss me and undo my shirt buttons I did not resist.

When she had finished with my shirt she started to unbutton her blouse and I felt my heart quicken. I wanted to sit up to see where Duncan had gone to but she put a finger to her lips and shushed me as she started on my trousers.

At another touch of a button the lights dimmed and the volume of the music rose a little. She skilfully divested me of the remainder of my clothes until I was lying naked with an erection made painful by its intensity.

She took her time as she teasingly removed her bra and I gasped as her breasts were revealed. They truly lived up to their promise, firm, rounded and with nipples that formed perfect chocolate circles from which the engorged teats rose enticingly.

She let me lick them fleetingly but then pulled away and undressed completely.