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As Jana stands there I slip from the bed and step around the bed towards her. Wrapping my arms around her body I feel her melt into my embrace.
Jana turns to face me, looking briefly into my eyes before she kisses me with an unquestionable passion.
**********
I finish my reply to the last of the emails I have deemed as essential for the day.
Switching off the monitor, my mind fast passing to need for food to replenish depleted energy reserves as the doorbell shrilly rings through the Town House for the second time in the last few hours.
Crossing the hallway with intrigue as I reach for the door handle to open the door given I am not expecting any further visitors. Opening the door slightly cautious of cold calling sales people I am more than surprised by the fresh faced beauty whose smile greets me.
"Sara," I offer in genuine surprise.
"Markus," she responds holding her smile.
"Come on in," I offer conscious of the creased appearance of my navy shirt and beige chinos, "What are you doing here?"
"Back from Uni for the summer," she states stepping in through the doorway. "Just thought I'd pay you a visit."
'Fortunate that you didn't pay me a visit an hour earlier' is the thought that passes my mind. Contemplating the awkwardness of explaining to Jana why her daughter would be at my door, or in reverse in light of the wider circumstance of covering explanation as to why Jana needed to be visiting myself.
I cast my eye over Sara's casual attire, casual attire that still sets my mind racing. A red and black plaid shirt sits knotted to reveal her toned stomach. Tiny little denim shorts sit upon her waist, barely covering the cusp of her ass, over black nylon tights.
"I only spoke with your Dad earlier... he never mentioned you were coming home," I state.
"They're not expecting me until tomorrow," Sara states looking up at me from doe eyes. "I thought we could pick up where we left off?"
Minutes later knelt upon a cushion placed between my feet as I sit upon the sofa in the living room the same eyes look up at me as Sara Anderson slowly runs her hand up and down the length of my fully erect penis.
I close my eyes and rest my head back against the sofa as I feel the warmth of her mouth as her lips slip down my shaft.
The taste of her mother still coating my unwashed member.
******************************
Chapter Six - Subject Matter
******************************
An uncomfortable humidity hangs in the air
I step with confidence through the crowded night club, her slender hand clutched in mine as the sights, sounds and smells of the claustrophobic atmosphere invade my senses.
Walking with pride, an air of confidence as I catch the envious side glances and outright stares of the male patrons as I approach the main bar. I largely go unnoticed, anonymous by the sheer breath-taking beauty that walks at my side.
Squeezing Sara Anderson's hand gently I lead her towards the end of the vast bar.
"Would you like a drink?" I offer as I turn to face her.
Sara nods her head gently in confirmation. "Vodka," she offers casting her eyes somewhat nervously around the venue.
Her apprehension palpable as she takes in same sights and sounds as I do. As I let go of her hand she steps closer towards me her arm immediately slipping through mine as I lean against the bar.
"Good evening..." a pleasant faced dark-haired girl offers on an Eastern European accent as she approaches the bar. "I'm Natalia... do you have a reservation?"
"Private room in the name of Halliday..." I confirm, "...And can we get a double Vodka and a Jack Daniels and Diet Coke please."
"Certainly," Natalia confirms tapping her finger against an iPad that rests against the edge of the bar between us. "All drinks are complimentary... Would you like them here or brought to the room?"
I turn to Sara for confirmation
"Here please," she abruptly requests.
No sooner has Natalia placed the glass of clear liquid, over a solitary ice cube, on the bar does Sara snatch the glass and swiftly consume the liquor in one swift motion.
I catch Natalia glance from Sara to myself as she takes a gold electronic key card from the black leather cover that holds the iPad.
"I can show you to the room whenever you are ready... everything is ready just as you requested Mr Halliday." Natalia offers.
"I think we are ready now," I state without seeking further confirmation from Sara.
"Great... well if you would like to follow me then." Natalia offers with a sincere smile as she steps along and around the bar, before beckoning us to follow her.
As we trail a pace or two behind her we weave between the clientele of the City's most infamous night club, and I feel Sara's hand slip into mine for reassurance. In step at my side, I note how here head hangs slightly bowed, her heeled feet step purposefully forward, but I sense the reticence within her. Her usual confidence waned a little. Sara has no idea what to expect as I have deliberately offered very little detail on my expectation for the night.
She has been fully aware for some days now of my intention to bring her to the venue she had previously intended to visit. The venue I had researched and become increasingly intrigued by. It's reputation so far did it every justice as we follow our hostess towards the far wall of the darkly lit venue, away to our right a dance floor ripples with what appears to be hundreds of bodies.
Sara's hand is now clammy in my grip as Natalia approaches a dark burgundy curtain which she slides back to reveal a dark painted door on which a solitary gold coloured number five plaque is screwed.
Natalie slips the gold keycard into the lock before turning and handing it to me with my drink in my left hand I let go of Sara's hand to take the key
"Enjoy your evening," Natalia offers without judgement, "...if there's anything you need please don't hesitate to contact us... there's a phone on the wall just inside the door."
As Natalia steps away I press the door open. Stepping aside to let Sara enter the dimly lit room ahead of me.
Her head still hangs a little bowed as she steps into the uncertainly of the private room.
I follow her as she steps into the darkness.
**********
"Are you Ok?"
She gently nods in response
Stood before me I step around Sara Anderson knowing full well she cannot respond.
She watches me as I step slowly around her. Her eyes following me as I move purposefully slowly, admiring her as I walk around her while she stands within the confines of the room that's lit only by red lighting from the strips of LED lights that trace the base of the walls of the private room.
Dressed in the figure-hugging red halter neck leather dress that clings to the curvature of her toned body. The hem of her skirt sits tantalising close to the tops of thigh high black leather boots that clad her long legs and hold her taller than usual on vicious heels.
Thick black leather cuffs wrap both of her ankles and her wrists. Black leather cuffs that match the thick black collar that wraps and buckles tightly around her long slender neck. As I look into her eyes I study the heavy dark make up that frames her eyes. Smiling as I stop pacing and stand before her, watching her exposed shoulders rise and fall on heavy breaths.
I reach out my hand and cradle her jaw with right hand, rubbing my thumb over the ball of the gag that dissects her jaw and sits secured across the back of her head, her hair pulled viscously back into a pony tail that sits high upon her scalp and falls down the back of her head and neck. As she heavily breathes I watch as saliva starts to build around the edge of the ball gag.
"Are you ready?" I offer looking deep into her eyes.
Sara's eyes close, she swallows hard and then she offers me a solitary nod.
A reticence grips her body, just as it always does, and understandably so. Dressed tonight exactly as I have chosen. An outfit I had ordered and had delivered that she had changed into on arrival at my house two hours ago. Sara had taken my breath away as I had watched her walk down the stairs prior to our arrival here. Driven to the venue in the back of the Land Rover by my personal driver George. A man whose discretion and lack of judgement I knew I could trust.
She had barely said a word since we had commenced our journey. Pulling up outside the club and accessing the venue through the VIP entrance that bypassed the long Friday night queue to the Dark Star. Her compliant appearance so intricately followed at my suggestion. So much so that even her heavier than usual make up and tied back hair has been at my request. I know that she is Sara Anderson but were I to have passed her in the street or within the bowels of the venue even I might have failed to recognise her.
My intention for this evening could not be any clearer as I take the top of her left arm and guide Sara across the fairly expansive room. I had been aware of the venue for some years, not least for its infamous past and the murder investigation that had made local news following the discovery of two hidden bodies in the basement of the venue when it had been renovated.
The more I researched the services offered at the Dark Star, the more intrigued I had become. I had opted for one of the more basic, simpler, private rooms not so much of my own intrigue but in consideration of my expectations, and the deliberately slow yet darkly twisted path I was purposely leading young Sara Anderson along. Until now she has unswervingly complied with my will, I therefore fully appreciate what a step up in intensity for the twenty-two year old tonight represents.
Leaving the relative comfort of the semi circular sofas sat around a large low round table that's scattered with evidence of heavy cocaine and champagne consumption I lead her towards the imposing, unavoidable, main feature on the far side of the room.
At closer proximity my own eyes take in the menacing black wooden St Andrews cross that stands before a floor to ceiling window overlooking the packed dance floor. The optical illusion created by mirrored glass is testimony to someone's expert planning and eye for detail.
Standing Sara before the cross I observe her as she looks up and across the wooden frame that I intend to restrain her open. Slipping my right hand down her left arm until I take hold of leather gauntlet style cuff that wraps around her left wrist.
I turn my eyes towards her, she does not look in my direction as I enquire, "May I?"
Sara's nod is even more reticent than the one previously received. With that in mind I do not rush as I slowly draw her wrist away from her body, extending her arm up and straight as I raise it to meet the steel carabiner that's firmly bolted near to the top of the left stanchion of the cross she faces. Holding open the carabiner with a gently squeeze to the mechanism I feed it thorough the d-ring set in the leather cuff that sits tightly over her wrist as I begin to restrain her.
Deliberately slowly I take my time and appreciate her surrender until I am able to step back and admire Sara's slender body stretched out by each of her limbs to the cross. The thick black leather belt attached to the midsection of the cross that sits tightly fitted over her waist only adds to the compromise of her position.
Her head held high she appears to focus on the writhing mass of bodies that fill the dance floor. The sound of the heavy dance music all but muffled within the confines of the private room. A docking station would allow for a personal choice of soundtrack within the room but for tonight I opt for the natural silence of the room, which only seems to add to the intensity.
As I approach Sara from behind I can only imagine who, if anyone on the other side of the glass she concentrates on.
Stepping close to her my chest pressed to her back so that I push her body against the rigid cross I press my undisguisable arousal against her ass, as my hands move between her coming to rest firmly over her breasts. A soft groan passes the gag held between her lips as I squeeze my hands tighter over her firm tits through the dress.
"You're mine" I whisper over her right shoulder as she stands before me.
Sara does not respond, neither verbally or physically as silent and motionless she has no choice other than to accept as my hands leave her breasts and explore her body.
Minutes later my impatience and heightened arousal have the better of my intention to prolong and tease the moment. My fingers grasp the hem of the skirt of her tight red dress and I hoist the garment up over her pert buttocks to leave it sat upon her hips.
Knowing fully well no underwear sits beneath the dress I position my self against her with my right hand guiding my dick that is already exposed through the fly of my suit trousers.
Clutching her left shoulder in my left hand as I press myself against the soft firm lips of Sara's labia. Sliding the tip of my dick back and forth over her between her parted and restrained legs.
Pulling back a little I then thrust my hips up and forward, pressing myself up into her and claiming her bound body with one harshly penetrating thrust.
Sara gasps into the gag, the muffled sound only inspires me further as I feel the tight warmth of her body clench tightly around me.
Inches away on the opposite side of the window I fixate on a tall slender red head dancing amongst a group of males, their hands eventually begin to explore, as she writhes and presses back before eventually being corralled between two males who coerce her and who benefit from her own lack of protestation.
Stood shackled to the St. Andrew's Cross I begin to fuck Sara harder. Eventually my right hand wraps tightly around her long ponytail as I begin to fuck her mercilessly, pulling her head back against her shoulders as she accepts me.
In her restraint Sara fully succumbs to the prolonged harsh heavy fuck she receives only pulling at her restraint when I pull her body away from the cross against mine.
The cross creaks audibly from the momentum it absorbs, interspersing with Sara's muffled little pleasured cries from beyond the red ball gag.
I lose sight of the red head and her two companions moments before with her head held back facing the ceiling I feel Sara Anderson cum heavily, her wetness spilling from her as I lunge forward and impregnate her body with a heavy deposit of thick ejaculate in tribute of her surrender.
"Good girl..." I breathlessly whisper, "...Good girl."
**********
"No..." Sara pleads, "...please Markus no!!"
The salvia soaked ball gag hangs around her slender neck allowing her to speak.
As I press once more despite her plea I watch her wrists simultaneously pull at the restraint her body clenching tight as I press my dick against her puckered little asshole.
Outside the window of the private room the dance floor is illuminated only by the vicious flicker of strobe light that casts haunting glimpses of all those on the other side of the thick pain of mirror glass.
"Markus please..." Sarah begs as I press with my hips but fail to stretch her any further, "It's too painful ...I ...I can't"
I had not planned for this moment, I had attempted to take her on the euphoria of the heightened fuck that had just played out. Fuelling my desire with another line of cocaine washed down with slightly warm champagne it had only been on re approaching Sara as she stood bound to the cross that inspiration had triggered my attempt
The sight of her in restraint as I cast my eyes up legs clad in black leather boots to mid thigh. The exposure of the pale tops of her thighs and her pert buttocks had spurred my sudden desire. I had prised the gag from between her lips as I had informed her of my intent.
"Markus..." Sara implores as I attempt to ease myself into her rigid bound body, "...Markus don't please don't."
I pull back slipping my dick from between her buttocks, immediately noticing the relief that seems to spread through her body, despite her compromised position.
"I'm sorry," Sara offers on heavy breath as her head bows a little towards her chest.
I don't respond, the disappoint that I feel would only come across in any words that I could offer to her as I step back leaving her shackled to the St. Andrew's Cross.
"Can you..." Sara continues, "...Can you get me... can't you free me please."
She looks back over her shoulder at me as she speaks and I see the streak of a tear down her left cheek. Stood there watching her as the dance floor illuminates brightly, bathing revellers, Sara and myself in a bright orange glow.
Silhouetted against the brightness I stand and watch her until the lights fade casting us back into only the slight red glow of the room. Reaching out I tug at the buckled belt fastened across the small of her back.
"Too young... too naive" I hear the words I think pass my lips before I can even react to stop myself. Hurriedly I free Sara of her restraint turning my back on her once the cuffs that had wrapped her ankles and wrists are free.
Stepping back across the room I pour a fresh glass of champagne, the last from the bottle, as my eyes cast to the final two lines of cocaine that sit pre cut upon the smooth surface of the table.
"Too young... too naive..." I hear Sara state on a soft measured tone as she steps on heavy heels back across the room, "...after everything you've coerced me into over the last couple of weeks."
I turn to see her shaking her head in disbelief. My mind recalling the various natures of restraint I have held her in whilst discovering her perfect toned young body. Each sordid little rendezvous or stolen night in one another's company seemingly raising the stakes and building on both anticipation and physicality. Her use of the word coerced concerns me. On each occasion I had believed, until tonight, she has been compliant and willing. Usually resulting, much as our earlier furious passage of discovery has in mutual satisfied climax for the pair of us.
"Is that what you think?" Sara presses further, a look of disdain crossing her beautiful features.
"I don't know," I answer immediately but without remorse.
"I do..." Sara offers shaking her head, "...and because I couldn't bring myself... because I wouldn't let you fuck me in the ass... then..."
"Then what?" I goad acutely aware of the verbal tension that builds.
"Then perhaps I've realised too late what a mistake this has been... how you were just using me... to the point of dressing me like some whore to parade on your arm."
Her softly spoken but caustically offered words strike a chord, a realisation I cannot agree with but cannot bring myself to deny.
"This..." Sara shakes her head as she backs away from me, "...this has all been a big mistake... I should never... never have... not even that first night."
Looking directly into her eyes as she backs towards the only door to the private room I am fully appreciative of the words she offers but can still find no argument, no denial of the truth. Sara has become a project at my hands, a person with whom to explore and discover tendencies I have haphazardly stumbled across born of a sordid one-night stand with young Kara, the former employee of Clarkson Cooper.
I watch Sara back away. I let her back away, only now appreciating myself the similarities between the two girls. The only difference being how genuinely stimulated I have always felt in Sara's company and perhaps by virtue of the fact of who she I see her as far less disposable than the platinum blonde had been six months prior to tonight.
"Maybe it has," I respond to her allegation of our coupling being a mistake with a dismissively tone, unsure of my own true feelings on matters as my mind races.
Sara's eyes grow wet immediately, I watch as she takes a shuddering inhale whilst reaching back for the door handle. As the door swings open she refuses to take her angry gaze from mine as she slowly shakes her head, not another word exchanged as she slips through the doorway into the noisy sweaty atmosphere of the vast night club hidden by the curtain beyond the doorway.
