Indecent Intent (5 page)

‘She's very wet,' murmured Laura. ‘She's very wet and ready…'

‘Hm,' agreed Verity, his hand in the pocket of his exquisitely tailored trousers, ‘she'll fit in well with our little ménage, I think.'

If this was meant to mean anything sinister it escaped Gabrielle's notice. She was intent on the movement of the girl's finger in and out of her vagina. The most important thing in the world to her at that moment was to release the sexual tension that was building within her. She wanted to come! It was new to her to be fingered by another girl, apart from the whore Tom brought back to their trailer that time, and she had to admit that she liked it. She liked it a lot!

‘Here we are.' Verity's cultured tones broke the spell and the dark-haired girl slipped her finger from Gabrielle's cunny, smiling mischievously and watching Gabrielle's reaction as she slipped it between her shapely lips and sucked.

‘Mmmm…' she sighed, as she savored the taste of the confused redhead.

So near to coming, thought Gabrielle as she followed Verity from the elevator on legs that felt too weak to support her. Her sex ached for release and she could feel her warm juices on her inner thighs. Her breasts felt heavy as they pouted against the bodice of her dress.

Verity slid the card into the door slot of his private suite and Gabrielle gasped as it swung open. Countless tiny lights lit the scene from crystal chandeliers hung from the ornately plastered ceiling. Several beautiful girls, dressed in costumes designed to whittle their waist and accentuate their breasts and shaven sex mounds reclined on comfortable leather sofas. They lounged in ways to show their ringed sex lips to best advantage.

‘Welcome to my world, Gabrielle,' said Verity. ‘These girls have already had dinner so we shall go straight through to the dining room.' He led the way, and without looking back issued a further order. ‘Stay just as you are, my beauties, until I return with your new friend.'

Was she, thought Gabrielle, the new friend? She shuddered. What did he mean about fitting in? She felt strange, a little unsettled, as though her world had suddenly gone beyond her control.

The rooms in the vast suite, Gabrielle noticed, had mirrored walls. Wherever she looked she could see herself. Without seeking permission the girl he called Laura sidled seductively behind Gabrielle and slipped her arms through hers to cup and massage her breasts through the black silk dress. Despite her trepidation Gabrielle felt her body instantly return to that delicious wanton state she'd enjoyed in the elevator; dreamy and so very receptive. Before she knew it and without resistance, her dress was unzipped and allowed to shimmer down her body to form an inky-black puddle around her feet, and she was naked apart from the garter belt and stockings. Her hunger became greater, the emptiness in her tummy didn't wane, but now she had an even greater hunger to distract her.

‘Do sit down,' invited Verity, indicating the long dining table.

Gabrielle felt totally bewildered. This wasn't what she wanted at all – was it? Did she want to be under the influence and effortless control of a virtual stranger and his harem of pampered girls? Perhaps it was. She no longer knew. Perhaps she no longer cared. She considered how Tom would react if he knew what was developing – briefly, and then he was forgotten again.

Laura slipped out of her own dress and was as naked as Gabrielle. Verity sat down at the head of the table, fully dressed, and this made her discomfort and feeling of vulnerability all the greater. A door behind them opened and the blonde girl who had accompanied Verity to Gabrielle's room that afternoon entered with a laden tray.

‘I hope you like my choice of first course, my dear,' Verity said to Gabrielle. ‘Salmon mousse – so light and easily digested, don't you think?' He watched the blonde place delicate bone china plates at the four laid places. ‘A spatula for Gabrielle, my dear Susan.' He caught Susan's wrist and twisted it cruelly. ‘Did you forget?' And then he turned to Gabrielle. ‘Relax and open your legs, my dear girl. Laura is going to finish what she started in the elevator. I'm sure you'll agree you've waited far too long for a conclusion.'

The same sense of confusion came over Gabrielle as Susan handed a silver spatula to the dark-haired girl and she took her plate of salmon mousse under the table. Without really knowing why, Gabrielle obeyed the outrageous order, parting her thighs obediently, as she began to eat the delicately flavored mousse, and then she gasped as an ice-cold sensation probed the heat of her sex.

It wasn't unpleasant, in fact, quite the opposite, and she pushed against the pleasure as more of the mousse was spread between her sex lips and into her vagina. She felt her clitoris swell and pout against the creamy delicacy, and then experienced a new sensation; the warmth of a tongue lapped from her bottom cleft up one swollen sex lip and down the other.

‘Does she taste good, Laura?' Verity casually asked, as he poured some sparkling champagne into four crystal flutes.

‘She does,' the girl murmured from under the table, and Gabrielle felt her face burn as though she had done something unforgivable.

‘Very good…' said Verity, smiling with approval and dabbing a crisp white linen napkin to his lips before elegantly picking up one flute and savoring his drink. ‘Did you enjoy the mousse, my dear?' he said to Gabrielle, and placed a warm hand over hers, where it lay unmoving on the table.

She could only nod. Her clitoris was wallowing in the attention the girl beneath the table was doting upon it. The girl was keeping her on the very brink of an orgasm with her expert attentions. Her vagina pulsed as the girl sucked on the cocktail of salmon mousse and Gabrielle's juices. Although she was drowning in a pool of pleasure, Gabrielle also felt humiliated by what Verity was doing to her. She was free to go; she knew that and yet, somehow, she was glued to her chair. She looked at him through misty eyes. He wielded such power and yet he was smiling at her. It was a very special kind of power he possessed. He squeezed her hand. She'd read about such a thing before Tom convinced her to drop out of college. He was provoking her to stay by Foucauldian power.

‘What special delights do you have for our main course, Susan?' he asked the blonde conversationally.

‘Steak tartar and green salad, sir,' she supplied, appearing again with the loaded tray.

‘Ah, one of my favourite dishes!' he exclaimed. ‘Have you tried it, my dear?' he asked, squeezing Gabrielle's hand again.

‘No.' She'd never heard of it, but if it were steak surely they wouldn't taunt her pussy with it? How could they? But in spite of her fears and anxieties she was still terribly turned on, and so, unable to resist, she spread her legs wider under the table and gingerly lowered a hand to feel where Laura was enjoying her own tasty delicacy.

‘At least she's obedient,' the dark-haired girl said from where she knelt unseen, and then the blonde passed down a plate of steak to her.

‘As I suspected,' said Verity, and then he shook his head and tutted. ‘When I think of how I was forced to arrange punishments for some of you girls – those who were not initially so obedient. It makes me shudder. You think I like seeing you marked with the whip?' He shook his head again. ‘I cannot bear to see perfection spoiled, which is why I have your pussies shaved every day. In that way I can see their beauty to the full.'

‘The steak's raw,' murmured Gabrielle, using her fork to probe what looked like an uncooked hamburger, served on a bed of crisp lettuce leaves.

‘Of course the steak is raw, my dear girl,' he said, taking a forkful of the chopped lean meat. ‘Steak tartar is meant to be entirely rare. Try it. You'll find it delicious.'

A cold substance, a chilly softness, was eased against and into Gabrielle's vagina. With wide sparkling eyes and a bemused expression she looked at Verity, but he continued to eat as though nothing untoward was happening. Susan was also eating with evident relish. They were behaving as if everything was perfectly normal and natural.

Gabrielle squealed softly as she again felt the tip of a tongue flick against her. There was no way she could stop herself from bearing down on the gentle, moist pressure. The tongue delved deeper when the finely minced steak was eaten away until it pushed into her tightness. She squealed again, this time with pleasure.

‘Are you not enjoying your steak, my dear?' asked Verity, nodding at Gabrielle's untouched plate.

Breathing rapidly she tried to nod and held her fork tighter with fingers that trembled. The tongue was inside her, wriggling expertly and inducing a myriad of conflicting emotions for the poor girl. She knew she was going to come, despite the embarrassment of doing such a thing at the dinner table and in the company of virtual strangers. It was building up inside her. She could not hold back. She looked at Verity, as if for help, but he merely gazed back at her with a mildly amused look on his face.

‘You're still not eating, my dear,' he remarked. ‘Perhaps you would like some help since you seem otherwise occupied.' He nodded at Susan, who took Gabrielle's fork from her and began to feed the raw steak between her open lips.

‘Oh, I think I'm…
coming
,' murmured Gabrielle, dutifully trying to eat the steak at the same time. And then she closed her eyes and shuddered beneath the force of an exquisitely disgraceful orgasm, feebly trying to push the blonde girl away, but with little real conviction. Wet suckling sounds drifted up from beneath the table, from between her limp thighs, as the dark-haired girl diligently saw Gabrielle to her exquisite completion. How could anything so wickedly humiliating be so delicious? Gabrielle's spinning mind was in utter disarray, but at that moment she really did not care.

‘I think we'll give dessert a miss,' Verity said. ‘I believe we have more important matters to discuss. Get up, Laura.' He waved a hand at the dishes, a slight look of impatience on his face, and Susan and Laura, who appeared with a flushed complexion and a twinkle in her eye, cleared the table and left Verity and Gabrielle alone.

There was a few minutes' silence while he observed her with an unfathomable expression, sipping his champagne, and she avoided looking at him, and then he spoke again.

‘While we've been indulging ourselves,' he eventually broke the awkward silence, ‘we've been forgetting something… or should I say, forgetting someone?' He raised an eyebrow at her, as though she should know what he was talking about, but her confusion was as intact as ever, fuelled by the warmth of her recent orgasm. She gazed at him uncertainly.

‘Oh, come now,' he chided, leaning a little closer to stroke her hand again. ‘Have you forgotten him already?' There was amusement in his voice.

Tom. He was talking about Tom, and Gabrielle had to admit to herself that her husband was not at the forefront of her thoughts at that precise moment. ‘What… um, what about him?'

‘He'll lose tonight,' said Verity with a wry smile. ‘In the casino, he'll lose all the money he has. But I hardly need tell a bright girl like you that, now do I?'

Gabrielle, her hand inert beneath his, said nothing, but lowered her gaze in sad acknowledgement of what the man said. She knew Tom would lose everything, as he always did.

‘Why do you put up with it, my dear?' His hand squeezed hers warmly. ‘You deserve so much better.'

‘Because he's my husband,' she said, not daring to betray Tom by telling a virtual stranger that earlier that evening she was again prepared to leave the loser. A virtual stranger? That was rich, considering she was still sitting virtually naked before the man.

‘Very commendable, my dear, even if a little fanciful. Loyalty; I saw that in you from the very first. Loyalty and spirit. But your loyalty is misplaced, my dear. I know it isn't returned. I know he is disloyal to you.'

Gabrielle cringed inside, the man's accurate words digging painfully deep. She had given so much up for Tom, and received so little in return. She still loved him – she always would love him – but it was finally time to think of herself for a change. So much stronger was her resolve than ever before that she felt no shame for her complicity in Verity's depraved sexual games.

‘Would you like me to prove it to you?'

No, she wouldn't. She knew the man was right.

Verity stood then and moved behind her chair. He placed his cool hands on her shoulders and started to massage her expertly, the material of his expensive suiting brushing her naked back. ‘He will lose all you have,' he went on, ‘to the point where I doubt whether he'll be in a position to pay the hotel bill.'

‘Why… why are you saying all this to me?' Gabrielle asked, the masterful hands making her close her eyes and wallow in the relaxing pressure of them.

‘Because I want to help you, my dear girl,' he said, smiling slightly above her. ‘And I would like to help Tom. Would you like me to help you both?'

‘Why would you want to help us?' she asked quietly, gently rolling her head, easing the tension she suddenly realised was in her neck muscles.

‘Because I like you,' he said simply, and then, unseen behind her, his expression changed, became an emotionless mask. ‘But, as with all things, there will be a price…'