The Descent Ch. 07

Lena kept very still. In the darkness she closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing.

Moving was difficult in the confined space. She lacked even room to raise her arms. There was no catch on her side of the door and for a moment she had to fight back a sense of rising panic.

The cupboard where she waited was no more than a wooden panel set across the angle of the wall in the corner. The deal planks that made up the door met the frame just below eye level and by bending her knees she was able to peer through a gap in the join. In this way she had a view of the entire room.

It had seemed so simple when Yvette explained the idea. Yvette had an appointment with a man she had not met before. A note had been delivered explaining what was expected of her. All Lena had to do was wait quietly until Yvette returned. From her vantage point in the cupboard she would be able to watch the whole encounter unobserved.

She had the advantage of secrecy but Yvette's companion had only to reach for the catch and she would be discovered. What if she made a noise? What if he merely wanted to hang up his coat? What then? It came to Lena with a sudden conviction that she was trapped and had she been able to open the door she would willingly have abandoned her hiding place and fled to the security of her own room. But the matter was out of her hands. Once Yvette had closed the latch on her tiny coffin all she could do was wait helplessly for whatever was going to happen next.

A feeling of exhaustion overcame her. She longed to sink to the floor but the triangular void where she waited would not permit it. Hours seemed to pass. Lena felt her thoughts begin to drift. It was as if her body was no longer hers. She studied this phenomenon for a while until all awareness of her surroundings began to fade. And then quite clearly she heard the sound of a key being fitted to a lock.

Lena peered through the gap above the door.

Yvette cast a glance at the cupboard as she came into the room and then immediately turned to face her companion. He was in his forties, Lena estimated. Tall and clean shaven. He stood looking round the room taking it in. Lena held her breath. He had only to reach for the handle and she would be discovered. But the man showed no interest in her hiding place. Instead he turned, hung his coat on a hook behind the door and considered Yvette.

He reached out a hand and cupped her cheek. Lena was surprised. She did not know what she had expected but there was something tender in this. It was the sort of gesture a lover might make. With the tip of his finger he traced a path to her lips and left it there as if forbidding her to speak.

"Have you been told what to expect?"

Yvette nodded.

"There has been a change in my plans. I trust that will not be a problem?"

"No." Her voice was no more than a whisper.

He considered her for a long moment, as if he was assessing her.

"Open."

She did as she was asked and in one simple movement the lover's gesture was gone. The man watched her closely as she took his finger into her mouth. Yvette hadn't moved, instead she waited for instructions.

The man nodded and at his signal she began to suck the finger, to move backwards and forwards onto it, concentrating all her skill and attention on this single object. For a few moments he let her continue.

"Enough."

Slowly the man extracted his finger, drawing with it a long thread of saliva. Carelessly he wiped his finger on her cheek. From her hiding place across the room Lena could see the moisture glistening on her skin. Leaving Yvette standing in the middle of the room he turned and sat on the bed.

"Very well", he said. "Someone else will be joining us. He will not take part, he will merely watch. It's important he understands how these things are done. When we have finished I intend to leave him with you. You may consider his instructions mine. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly clear", said Yvette.

"That's good. Now we may have to wait a few moments so I'd like you to face the wall."

Yvette turned towards Lena's hiding place. Lena half expected some acknowledgement, a look, a smile even as she came closer, but there was nothing. Yvette was already in a different place. The voice of her companion had begun to work on her. Lena felt it too. It was more than confidence. There was a certainty in his manner that called to something deep within her. It spoke to another version of herself, one she had barely acknowledged, but which now at the sound of his voice emerged from the shadows fully fledged and ready to open. While he spoke all life's uncertainties were set aside, to be replaced by something wonderfully simple. He would take what he wanted and she would surrender it willingly.

She could see Yvette alongside her standing facing the wall. The tip of her nose was no more than a few centimetres from the plaster. Suddenly Lena longed to take her place. To reduce the confusion of her young life to the simple task of facing a wall. Everything else would be taken care of

There was a soft tapping at the door.

"Come!" said the stranger. A moment later a younger man entered the room. He might have been 17 – or even younger – barely more than a boy."

"This is Yvette," he said. "Sit down. Say nothing."

The young man had not taken his eyes off Yvette's back since he entered the room. Now he moved to a chair in the corner. His eyes alight with anticipation.

The older man picked up a bentwood stool from before the tiny dressing table and set it in the middle of the room.

"Yvette," he said. "You may come and sit down."

The man stood behind her. Carefully he put his hands around the column of her neck and held them there. Yvette at once sat straighter in the chair. His voice went on in the same hypnotic way.

"You come highly recommended, Yvette. We are going to see if your reputation is justified. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And you're going to give me everything I ask for and give it willingly."

"Yes."

Lena could see him adjust his hands, easing the vertebrae apart, as if he were balancing Yvette's young head on her extended spine. She was not yet in any real discomfort. But there was an unspoken acknowledgement he had only to tighten his grip and twist and her young life would be over.

"In a moment I'm going to ask you to kneel down for me. No – don't try to speak." Yvette had attempted to answer but her throat extended as it was under his hands struggled to form the sounds.

He lifted her head a little more. Now Lena could hear Yvette's breathing grow taut For a moment she tensed. But the moment passed and she submitted to his lifting hands and relaxed. There was something infinitely gentle in the dangerous embrace, something beautiful in her vulnerability. After holding her for a moment he released her and at his invitation Yvette slipped from the chair onto her knees. Moving round in front of her he again adjusted the position of her head. This time with the lightest of touches beneath her chin. Under his hands Yvette seemed to grow taller. There was an elegance in the line of her back that had not been there before. It was as if she was blossoming under his hands, being remade. Satisfied at last, he invited her to open his trousers and take out his cock.

In her hiding place Lena held her breath. She stared at the long shaft where the veins showed clearly, at the purple swelling of its head, and gasped. Her expectations were coloured by her unsatisfactory experience with her husband. So the proud arrogance of the stranger's cock when it emerged under Yvette's hands was a genuine surprise. She struggled to reconcile the awkwardness and hesitancy of her husband's fumblings with the upright splendour of what she could see from her hiding place. She felt an ache of recognition between her legs, an answering concavity that needed the solid flesh before her to complete it.

The stranger's cock was centimetres from Yvette's face. She had only to dip her head to take it into her mouth, but without the instruction to do so, she remained where she was, unmoving.

"I'd like you to take out your breasts for me."

His voice was like another creature in the room. Something that stroked her skin, insinuating itself between her legs into the clefts and crevices of her being.

Quickly Yvette unbuttoned her blouse and freed her breasts. There was moment when she struggled with the straps of her brassiere but the stranger instantly came to her rescue.

"I think it would be better if you took them off, don't you?"

In a moment the blouse and bra had gone.

"That's much better. Now hold them for me."

Yvette took a breast in each hand and straight backed, offered them to the stranger. He admired them for a moment and then dipped a hand into his pocket. When it emerged he was holding a small silver chain.

"I'd like you to work the nipples for me. I'd like to see them a little firmer."

Yvette did as she was asked, rolling the pink flesh between her finger and thumb, until her nipples stood out firmly. Satisfied he reached forwards and attached a clamp to each one joined by the silver chain. Yvette winced at the cold metal bit but made no sound. Taking the chain by its mid point he drew her towards him until she was almost touching his cock.

"You may kiss the tip", he said.

Yvette's lips parted and she planted the softest of kisses on the end where a jewel of moisture had formed. Her tongue darted forward. As she withdrew Lena could see the drop of precious liquid had gone.

Lena felt faint. His slow exercise of power was hypnotic. She longed to give herself up to the stranger's voice, to let its certainty wash over her. There was no threat in his manner. Just an almost paternal strength and benevolence. An image of her own father came to her with great clarity. Shocked beyond measure she caught her breath.

"Thank you. Now stand up for me."

Yvette did as he asked, still offering up the gift of her breasts.

"You have a blemish – here." He reached out and touched a mark on her right breast. "But no matter. Turn around."

Now Yvette was facing the cupboard. Lena had her first view of her friends breasts, rounded and full in her hands. She found herself wanting to hold them. She imagined standing behind her, feeling the weight of each breast in the palm of her own hands, the firm bud of the nipples, each held in its silver clasp. Imagined resting her cheek on Yvette's naked back and breathing in the smell of her perfume. Feeling her own breasts flattened by her embrace.

"I'd like you to take off your skirt and your panties. And then put your hands behind your head."

Yvette stepped out of her skirt and followed his instructions to the letter. Now she was standing in her suspender belt and black stockings. She stood tall on the rug as if still guided by the memory of his hands. Lena marvelled at how perfect she looked. The stranger walked round her, as if he was inspecting a prospective purchase.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

For the first time the young man spoke.

"Yes father."

His lips were dry and his voice cracked with emotion. He watched hungrily from the sidelines. Lena could see he had his hand working deep in his pocket

The stranger moved over to the bed and sat down.

"Come here. Put yourself over my knee."

Yvette was quick to comply. As if she was not afraid, but genuinely anxious to please him.

Lena held her breath. In such a position he could only mean one thing. Inadvertently she found her hand slipping between her legs, cupping her mound through her dress while her middle finger pressed upwards. But she was mistaken. He did not slap the inviting curve in front of him. Adjusting Yvette's position with care he moved her forward until her forearms were on the floor and she was presenting the lips of her cunt for his inspection.

He parted her lips and slid a finger inside.

"You are wet. That's good. Now let's see, shall we?"

The stranger began to work with some concentration, his expert fingers at once finding what they sought. His hand withdrew and then slowly began to return to the moist darkness. The effect on Yvette was immediate. Soon two fingers were moving inside her, and then, as she opened to him, a third. Small piping cries began to emerge as the rhythm of his hand changed and his fingers continued to send pulses of pleasure through her. Yvette's breathing was coming in short sharp bursts. Her cries grew more urgent as she drew closer.

His voice when he spoke remained calm and untroubled.

"You're not to come until I tell you. Do you understand?"

Yvette clamped her eyes firmly shut as she struggled to hold back the orgasm that was threatening to overwhelm her.

"Do you understand Yvette?"

"Yes," she said through clenched teeth. "Yes."

On he went, letting his wet fingers slide in and out of her. Her breathing betrayed her discomfort. Lena watched every muscle in her body grow tense as she fought the release that she craved. Suddenly her cries grew louder. As if she had passed the point of no return and nothing could prevent the oncoming climax.

He did not raise his voice. Reaching down with his free hand he placed it around Yvette's throat. He spoke very deliberately. "No, Yvette. Listen to me. I said, No."

Yvette's cries stopped. She was incapable of speech. But she nodded as best she could.

"Good Girl."

He'd stopped working on her. But now the immediate crisis was past he tested her resolve, beginning the slow deliberate movements of his fingers, stirring her once more to the brink.

"You can stand up now."

Alone in her hiding place a wave of relief swept over Lena. So closely had she been following the stages of Yvette's arousal that she had shared it at every step. It was as if the stranger was addressing her and not just Yvette. Had it not been for the layers of clothes and her confined space she would surely have come herself and almost certainly been discovered.

Yvette was unsteady on her legs and had to reach out for the bedframe to support herself. This brought her face to face with the young man for the first time. She met his eyes, saw the hunger and cruelty there, saw him look away.

The stranger returned to his coat hanging on the door and took from one of its pockets at length of cord.

"Give me your hands."

Yvette extended her hands which he placed neatly side by side and proceeded to bind together. That done he took the remainder of the cord and led her to the wall by the door where a lamp was fixed to the wall on a substantial iron bracket. He passed the cord over the bracket and gently pulling Yvette's arms above her head secured the end.

He traced the flat of his hand down her flank like a sculptor admiring the perfection of his work. And then returned once more to his coat. This time when he turned to face her he was holding a small thin riding crop.

Approaching Yvette he stood for a moment wondering where to begin. He let the tip trace the outline of her body, from the hollow under her arm, round over the tip of her breast and down to the flat expanse of her stomach.

The movement was so fast she almost missed it. His arm seemed barely to move, but the crop cut the air with an audible sound and a thin red line appeared as if by magic on the side of Yvette's breast. She cried out in pain.

"Shhh", he said, stroking the breast gently with the flat of his hand. "Hush now." And then he dipped his head and put his lips to the mark he'd made. When he was done he turned her round and moved the tip of the crop to the side of the other breast. Again he stroked the soft flesh with the tip of the crop, taking his time, letting her wait.

He worked with great precision, like a surgeon, placing each of the tiny red lines exactly where he intended, as if he was decorating her young body. And each time he followed the cut with the touch of his lips.

In her hiding place Lena longed to feel what her friend was feeling. To offer up her own body to share the pain and the softness of his lips – willing the thin red lines to appear on her own skin.

Yvette had begun to tremble uncontrollably with the contradictory sensations that were flooding through her. At last the stranger put down the crop and loosened the cord a little. With the extra freedom this allowed she was able to follow his instructions and bend at the waist offering herself to him. The stranger released his cock and fitting it to her from behind prepared to enter her.

"Now Yvette. Not until I give you permission."

A deep groan issued from Yvette's lips. The impossibility of what he was asking seemed more than she could bear. And then he leaned into her.

He worked with concentration. Each questing thrust was measured, deliberate, implacable. Yvette rode the wave of this unstoppable invasion as cock searched out the deepest parts of her.

At last he pulled out. He summoned the young man from his corner.

"Come over here."

The young man rose from the chair.

"Put your hand here."

Lena watched the older man place the boy's hand between Yvette's open legs, finding the clitoris.

"Now. Keep it there. This is what you are looking for. You will feel her flutter like a bird."

The boy nodded. Now the stranger turned back to Yvette. She was trembling uncontrollably. He again took her throat in his hands, this time turning her head towards him.

"Now, Yvette. You may come now. Come now Yvette. Now."

He heard Yvette's cry shake the room, but the not smaller answering cry from Lena.

The moment past, the boy was sent back to his chair. Working quickly now the stranger released Yvette and lay her across the edge of the bed on her back. Then lifting one leg in each hand he entered her again and began to drive towards his own release. Lena could see his cock going into her, driving towards her dark centre, the moisture leaking from her, her legs splayed under his open hands. At last he uttered a deep guttural cry and Yvette felt the cresting wave break inside her a second time.

For a moment he stood breathing heavily still holding Yvette's legs apart, gathering himself. He pulled out, and swung her round so that she lay full length on the bed. He moved to her head and with great tenderness stroked a strand of Yvette's hair from her eyes where it had fallen.

"Good girl," he said again. "You did very well. Now clean me up, would you."

Yvette immediately lifted herself from the covers and taking him into her mouth began to work at him with her lips and tongue. She worked diligently until he was satisfied.

At last the stranger let her go and buttoned himself.

"I'm going to leave you now. I trust I can rely on you to continue this young man's education?"

"Yes," said Yvette. "Of course."

He turned to the young man in question. "Be careful with her," he said. And was gone.

Yvette watched as the young man rose slowly to his feet. He did not look at her. Instead he walked over to the dressing table and picked up the crop where the stranger had left it. Then he turned to face her. He reached for the silver chain still attached to her sore nipples. The moment she saw his eyes, she knew.

"Bitch!" he hissed at her. "You fucking bitch!"

And with one movement he yanked the chain free.