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Masquerade
By Electric Badger
Chapter 5
Eleanor returned to the hotel room where she left Elise to find her coworker just the way she’d been left: unconscious – although alive and well – and completely naked except for a blindfold and the tightly woven rope harness spreading her across the bed. Eleanor was again taken aback by the woman’s beauty, her perfect pale breasts and the dark hair strewn in a wet, tangled mess across the pillows. At first all she could do was admire the woman’s smooth thighs and taut stomach, moaning softly while running a hand along the soft curves and inhaling the slut’s strawberry scent. After a few minutes of savoring her captive, she pulled her hand back reluctantly and set to work. Her rival was already in position, but the bit of fluff on her cunt, even nicely trimmed as it was, would get in the way. Out came a razor and shaving gel; Eleanor enjoyed the act of denuding Elise more than expected, pausing twice to lean forward and stretch out her tongue to tentatively sample the glistening folds in front of her. That first taste of another woman was surprisingly pleasant, nothing like the fish taste she’d been told to expect – fucking lying men – but the task was finished all too quickly.
Finished with shaving, she spread the rings and needles out on the bedside table and crushed another sleeping pill. She carefully sifted the small granules past Elise’s bruised lips. The girl swallowed unconsciously, responding no doubt to a sense of dry mouth. That done, and knowing the next few minutes would be brutal, Eleanor began to work herself up. She called to mind every slight the bitch stretched out before her had ever given. All the weekends spent with Kevin, knowing damn well that Eleanor was interested in him; the locked conferences in her private office, the knowing looks of the other accountants as they flashed her pity. Pity! As if she were some poor child having a tantrum, not a confident, intelligent professional.
She closed her eyes, remembering Kevin’s face and his fumbling, bumbling childishness as he told her he couldn’t go on another date; “Something’s come up, rather unexpectedly…but maybe, later…when this thing is over, we could….” The bastard; as though she would wait for some pity fuck when he was done with Elise! Apparently he just expected that she would wait around like some desperate airhead. Her breath started to come in quick gasps and she yelled obscenities as she thrust the needle through the pale woman’s clit.
Elise came awake with a stifled scream, thrashing helplessly on the bed as the piercings continued inexorably down both her labia. Nine piercings in total, each imbedded with a bright silver ring, allowed a single heart shaped lock, when carefully threaded through the rings and snapped shut, to tightly secure the woman’s cunt closed and unpenetrable. While she worked, Eleanor spoke reassuring words in Helen’s accented voice, implying this was entirely Elise’s idea – telling the whore how she’d begged for it, desperate to be pierced and locked up for her mistress. Much of it was probably wasted; the raven haired beauty appeared to have passed out again before it was over. “Your whore cunt is all locked up now, skank. You won’t be able to fuck anyone else’s boyfriend for a while; should be a good change for you.”
The modifications completed, Eleanor strapped on her dildo and squirmed into a harness still wet with her juices and Rachel’s. She pounded into the bound cunt’s ass, not bothering with lube – the point was to make her victim feel she’d been properly fucked in the morning, after all. In fact, she hoped to tear the bitch open, and she laughed when she saw a trickle of blood. Despite all her anger, however, the revenge fuck lost its appeal quickly; the freakishly unmoving body was simply disturbing, not writhing beneath her in pleasure as her past subs had.
The thought led to another: Elise beneath her, but willing, eager for the punishment, begging for more. A mental flash of her pale skin gleaming with oil and misted with sweat, reddened with whippings and lust, seething against her in the dark. The image was enough for Eleanor to achieve a weak, hesitant orgasm, followed by a rush of shame at her abuse.
She shook it off. I need more to drink, she thought to herself. A lot more.
The rest of her work with Elise was quickly completed. Eleanor just piled most of the night’s purchases in a corner, only keeping a few choice selections. The erotic purchases scattered across the floor and spilled out of bags – clear evidence of a drunken night of sexual hedonism for room service to find with the naked, bound woman the next day. As a last touch she threw a half dozen hundred dollar bills across the side table. What would the maid do? Giggle youthfully behind a shy hand and pull out a cell to take a quick, disbelieving recording for youtube? Run to fetch a manager, a parade of suited directors and lawyers filing through the room, nodding sagely, covering erections as they ascertained risk before tampering with their guest? Or perhaps the police would come with disapproving jaded looks, take photographs and compile public reports: ‘Miss Lemieux, apprehended on suspicion of prostitution and drug use, was found secured to a bed…’?
Whoever came, whatever they did, no doubt their looks, laughs and efforts to release the girl the next morning would be horrifyingly humiliating, and Eleanor wished she could be around to watch it.
She closed the door with a sense of finality, smoothed down her crumpled, tiny dress and punched the elevator key down to the bar.
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