Tracking Evil: Bucharest Pt. 01

"Next? Next you go to work. I don't know who's in the house right now but I'm sure someone is. Time for you to get ready... unless of course you're having second thoughts?"

"Fuck that," Denisa replied. She probably shouldn't be so eager but now she was both horny and angry and there was a chance an answer to Maria's death might be found here. Patience was never a strong point for her.

"Good. Then strip down for me now that you're all cleaned up," he said. Once more leaning on his desk, ready to watch her disrobe.

It didn't take long.

Her jacket with the legs of her pants were already off so Denisa pushed the denim micro skirt off over her hips and down her toned legs. She sat down then to remove her boots, taking them off leaving her feeling slightly uncomfortable, they were a weapon in themselves. Then she pushed the black panties off and finally the tiny black bikini top was added to the small pile on the desk.

"Very nice. Fit, I like that," he moved around her, examining her. It took a physical act of will for Denisa to suffer his perusal, to stop her from clenching her hands into fists and punching the arrogance out of him. She had a part to play, cocky... yes, brash... sure, violent... not just yet.

"Shaved, good... very good. Tits are small, firm, I like that," he fondled one as he passed by on his circuit. Satisfied it seemed, he returned to his side of the desk, opening the larger of the side drawers from the sound of it. He pulled out a selection of panties, all still bearing the tags, each a high-end expensive piece of lingerie.

He selected one, tossing it to her with a 'this should fit' explanation.

Denisa pulled on the diaphanous underwear. Black, with a light almost translucent grey front that had a flower stylised on it. The thin waist strap curled about her slim hips, the same threadlike band curling under her pelvis to form the thong back, her firm ass cheeks splitting about it.

While she'd been pulling off the store tags and stepping into the underwear, the Shark had continued to rummage around in his desk. As Denisa raised her head, she found he'd joined her once more.

"Head up," he said curtly and, suffering the indignity, she did. He fastened something about her throat, a collar. There was a brief moment where she literally saw red but she kept it together. The act of not reacting to his collaring her meant that she hadn't really noticed what else he was up to. Denisa felt his hot breath on her skin, then his tongue was licking her nipple. She shivered in pleasure, another quiver as he did the same to her other breast, tweaking both hardening nipples with his fingertips for good measure.

Another indignity, he proceeded to attach two rubber tipped clamps to her engorged nipples, the clamps on light chains that were connect in turn to the collar. There was a little pain, the slightest amount, but mostly she felt the stimulation to her body that they induced, heightening her arousal further.

"Right foot on the chair," he instructed her. Denisa did so, wondering how much more humiliating this could get, the answer being a lot but she wasn't about to dwell on it. "Mission first and foremost" her father would say, drilling his daughter to keep her eye at all times on the goal.

He attached a small leather, a half inch wide, anklet to her. A silver bell, not unlike one that might be found on a pet's collar, was on the bracelet. As Denisa brought her foot down the bell made a small chiming tinkle.

The club manager stood back, the smirk on his face telling Denisa everything she needed to know. Her posture seemed to communicate as much to him, his smugness only growing in light of it.

"Take a look at yourself," he offered, using a small remote on his desk, pointing it at the security screens.

Denisa turned to look. Around her throat the collar was jet black. She could see the narrow chains coming from a central ring on the collar, ending in the clamps on her tits. She hated it, knowing what it signified. 'Pet'... yeah, there was no way in hell Maria had taken this man up on a similar offer. Still and all, something told her, some instinct, that the answer was here.

"Maria... Maria," he said, Denisa needing a second to remember that was the name she'd given him. She turned back to face him.

"Almost done," he said, Denisa groaning inwardly, what fresh hell was next?

"So, Maria... too common a name. Not a name for a house pet. Let me think. How about 'pisicuță mică'... little kitten? No... wait... I have it. 'Iepuraș micuț'... little bunny." He chuckled at the spasm crossed Denisa's face. He certainly got a kick out of dominating her, humiliating her. Neither of which boded well for what might lie ahead. Whatever was happening on level three of this club, if it had anything to do with her friend's death, Denisa was going to find out.

The club manager moved back to his desk, lifting the same remote control once more. With the switch, the music that was pulsating beneath her feet in the club below was piped into his office via a number of speakers. He settled back into his chair, swinging two long legs up on to the desk. Leaning back, he was the living image of the cat who had gotten the cream.

"Let's see how you dance now," he said.

She wasn't feeling it, not the way she had downstairs earlier but she knew that he wasn't going to take a refusal on her part. Denisa closed her eyes. The DJ was good, no doubting that, and the infectious beat and bass of his current track had her swaying. She blocked out the fact that she had been 'told' to dance, instead making it her own choice. She pictured the Shark's long black cock once again, instead of it penetrating her mouth, it was inside of her. Moving in time with the music, this phantom black cock was pushing in and out of her deeply, filling her tight pussy so perfectly.

Denisa moved now, her heartbeat a counter-beat to the one pulsing from the speakers. Her hands roamed her body, alighting gently on her own skin, soft kisses from her fingertips as she was lost in a dream of cock induced pleasure. The chains hanging from her nipple clamps swished as she moved, lightly pulling at her engorged nipples, stimulating her further. She was close, her imagination, the dancing, her own touch... she was closing in on a climax.

The music stopped, the sudden quiet hurting her ears as she blinked her eyes open to see the black man standing before her.

The Shark pulled out a leash, attaching it to the collar, a slight tug had Denisa walking barefoot behind him as he led her from the office and deeper into the level.

"Let's see if there's anyone here who want to meet our newest pet," he said.

To be continued.