“Where’s the other gentleman?” She demanded.
“I
“What’s this all about?”
“Harmless games. Do you object to a little playacting?”
“Gaw, you are a strange one, all right.”
“Come over here.”
She crossed the room and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.
“Now reach up under the dress and masturbate,” he said softly, almost a whisper. “But don’t let me see you. Keep the dress down over your hand.”
“Do it.”
She slid both hands up her thighs until he could see the edge of the corset. She shook her hands and the dress flopped over them.
“There is no hurry,” he whispered. “Enjoy yourself.”
He began to sweat. His heartbeat increased. He could feel his pulse pounding in his temple.
“No hurry,” he repeated.
“C’mon, guy, you reach a certain point, you can’t slow down, y’know.”
“What do you like best about it?”
“Why, comin’, o’ course. Don’t we all? Ain’t that the best part for you, luv?”
His blue eyes glittered behind the mask. He licked his lips.
“The best part is after.”
“After?”
He was breathing heavier and was almost out of breath.
“Reach out with one hand and take off my tie.”
When she did he could smell the musky odor of her se on her fingers. She slowly drew one end of the tie until it fell loose. The hand under her dress was moving faster and her legs were beginning to quiver. She closed her eyes, lowered her chin to her breasts and licked the top of them as she stroked herself faster.
“Yeah, guy, oh yeah,” she groaned.
“Stop,” he ordered.
“What?”
“Stop. Unbutton my shirt.”
“C’mon now.
She was out of breath and her face was flushed but she did what he asked. Her hands shook as she undid the buttons. When she was finished he took the shirt off. He sat on the sofa and leaned back on his elbows.
“Undo my pants .. . now reach in and stroke me for awhile now you can do yourself again .. . stop! No, not me, you...
take off the dress. . . yes, now the corset. . . slowly, no hurry. .
He saw her full breasts burst free of the tight corset, watched her as she slid the corset down, stared at the black triangle of hair that glistened a few inches from his face. Her hands stroked him to life. He lay back.
“Now you again. . . yes, like that... not so fast, build up to it again
She couldn’t control it.
“Can’t wait, luv.” She closed her eyes. Her arm was moving spasmodically.
He watched her hand moving faster and faster, watched her stroke him with the same cadence. She began to tremble, to stiffen and he felt himself about to explode.
“Stop!” he cried out. But she paid no attention.
“Stop it!” Her gripped the hand that was stroking him around the wrist. His grip was so tight it hurt her but she still didn’t stop. Instead she stroked herself faster and began to moan.
Ingersoll rolled slightly to one side and lashed out with a vicious right cross, punching her in the mouth as hard as he could. Her head snapped back, her body sagged; she fell sideways to the floor and lay there unconscious.
He sat up on the sofa and took a deep breath, composing himself. His chest heaved, twice, three times, then he was calm. He stared down at her, watching the bruise on her jaw turn black, and he began to chuckle.
She came around slowly and just as slowly became aware that her hands and legs were tied to the four corners of the bed. He was inside her, thrusting like an animal. Her mouth was gagged with a cotton cloth. She looked up, terrified. He was leaning over her, his mouth half open, sweat pouring from his chin and when he saw her look up he straightened up and hit her again, not as hard this time but enough to split her lip. She could feel the lip going numb, the salty flow of blood in her throat. She tried to scream. He hit her again and now he began to pant as he
