Otherwise Engaged

She would have been at least forty but could have passed for twenty-five and I trawled my memory for what I knew of her. There had been much speculation when she retired at the peak of her stardom and married some anonymous magnate.

Along with most red blooded males I had had something of a crush on her even though she was of the generation before mine. Now, seeing her in the flesh, I could really appreciate her almost ethereal beauty.

Her ice blue eyes beneath sculpted eyebrows still had a piecing intensity but this was balanced by her high cheekbones and full mouth which enabled her to switch, in an instant, from her trademark aloofness to a ravishing smile.

"It's nice to know I'm appreciated..."

For a second or two I had forgotten I was naked, so used had I become to it, but I could not ignore the pinch of a thwarted erection and I wondered if she was trying to mock me.

"Oh, and just in case you were wondering..."

The ring tingled menacingly putting paid to any last signs of arousal and any lingering hopes that I might have harboured about a return to a land of reason.

"The first rule, I don't want to hear you speak; I only have one use for your tongue."

She walked up beside me and rubbed the back of her finger over my chin.

"Not bad, but whilst you are here you will shave twice a day."

This disclosure, that I was to undergo an extended stay, left me with mixed feelings but my overriding hope was that the new surroundings would afford me an opportunity to regain my freedom.

She was wearing a scooped necked summer dress which set off her even tan to great effect and my eyes fell to the swell of her breasts.

"You've probably seen them before...most men have."

There was a world of difference between the celluloid version and the actuality of standing within touching distance. There was a presence about her that was hard to define.

"Kneel down...it's time for you to make a start."

Her blatancy put me off balance to the extent that I had done as she asked before I even had a chance to consider my actions.

She slowly raised her dress as if unveiling a precious secret and my heart began to beat faster. As her long bare legs were revealed I could see that they had lost none of their allure but it was her sex itself that held me captivated.

She was physical perfection personified and I suppose I expected the demureness of a Roman statue. The reality was a pink exposure of twin folds bulging at the apex as if struggling to contain the jewel within.

All this I took in at a glance but then I noted the glint of moisture; her sex was weeping and a single droplet was trailing down her inner thigh. Thus triggered my senses were assailed by the fresh fullness of her scent.

The imminence of my arrival had been enough to arouse her and now she intended to assuage her need. She took a step forward, threw the skirt of her dress over my head and pulled me on to her.

Refinement was not called for nor did I offer it. Afterwards, I wondered if, after all, some change had been worked on me but, for now, I licked her with the ferocity of a starving man.

I could hear her laughing as I lost myself in her copious wetness, the essence of her threatening to overwhelm my nose and mouth.

After the frantic beginning she held my head tighter and began to guide me. She tipped my head backwards and rode up on my face ensuring that, as she continued to leak, nothing was missed.

I licked and swallowed as best I could until she tugged me on to her clitoris and then it was only a moment before she juddered to a climax.

We were both breathing hard but she continued to hold me trapped beneath her dress until she had calmed down.

By the time she finally released me I was beginning to doubt my own sanity. She brushed down her dress, straightened her hair, and pressed a button set into the wall. Seconds later a Filipino maid appeared.

"Show him his room"

Almost as an afterthought, for my benefit, she added.

"Take another shave..."

The girl led through the house me without a word. I counted at least eight rooms on the ground floor but I was taken through to a connected annex. The bedroom was simple and functional, not unlike that which had become my prison of late, but it had the benefit of a large window. Beyond it was a small courtyard flanked by another wall of the house.

As soon as the girl left I began looking for a camera but found nothing. I even moved the bed so that I could check the light fittings but they were just standard low energy bulbs.

Incredible as it sounds it took me a while before I even tried the window. I was astonished when I found that I could open it almost fully. I was still naked but I did not care so much about that, if the police found and arrested me so much the better, my problem was a lack of footwear. I was not going to get anywhere fast if I had to cross broken ground.

I thought about binding towels around my feet but I needed to take this opportunity quickly whilst it presented itself. I raised myself onto the window sill and had both hands on the window frame when I felt as if I had been knocked backwards by a punch to the groin.

I lay sprawled on the floor below the window wondering what I had missed. Was there a camera trained on the window from outside?

It took a long while to recover but I determined to make a second attempt. In the meanwhile I did as she asked and had a shave in the hope that their vigilance would be relaxed.

I had barely finished when the girl came for me again. She was very slight and it would have been easy to get the better of her but I erred on the side of caution.

I was taken to some sort of drawing room. Like the library there was a lot of heavy wood panelling but the general décor was essentially feminine. This room, too, had large windows giving another aspect of the rose garden. I looked at them wondering if I could force an exit.

"You may make an attempt if you wish but then I'm guessing that you've already tried the window."

She had entered the room behind me looking totally refreshed. She had changed into a grey skirt and jumper combination but what would have looked plain on another woman only went to emphasis her natural beauty.

There was a small table in the centre of the room with four chairs set about and she pulled one out and made herself comfortable.

"I see that you shaved. Come here and let me feel."

The seductive tone that was so much a part of her screen persona was evident in her natural voice and, for a fleeting second, I almost forgot my circumstances. I stepped closer to her and presented my face but she did not raise her hand.

She looked at me as if I were simple.

"Kneel down. I want to do the test with my thighs..."

She was already raising her skirt under which she wore a full set of stockings and suspenders but no panties. I could not believe that she was contemplating a second orgasm so soon after the last and so I assumed it was some form of personal perverted ritual.

I went to my knees and bowed my head catching the floral undertone of an expensive shower gel.

"Lower..."

I did as she asked bringing myself closer to her sex and she gently enclosed me with the thighs.

"You'll need to shave more closely. Take your time and remember what you are preparing yourself for."

I bit back a scathing reply and prepared to get up.

"Stay there. You can warm me up before my guests arrive."

She must have sensed my disinclination.

"I could always use the ring but I am hoping that it will not be necessary. Please know that the manner and skill of your performance whilst you are here will go a long way towards securing your freedom."

It was the first time that the word had been mentioned and I felt my heart lift. Anger still blazed inside me but once I was free I would find them again, one way or another, and I would exact my revenge by fair means or foul.

Bouyed up by this I bent to the task and I began to lick her but she reached down and lifted my chin.

"Slowly this time...start on my legs."

Restraining myself I moved closer to the floor and licked my way slowly up each of her legs in turn. Above her stockings they were so perfectly smooth and unblemished that it seemed almost unnatural.

It was a long time before she redirected my attention to her sex but I was pleased to note that she was already becoming excited. I had been engaged for only a moment or two when I heard the door open and I wondered if the maid was inured to her employers proclivities. It came as a shock when I heard a male voice.

"Is he any good?"

"He will get better with practise."

I risked a glance towards the door. The man standing there wore an expensive suit with a pale blue shirt and scarlet tie. He was around fifty with film star looks but was most definitely a businessman.

"I didn't tell you to stop..."

His condescending smile remained with me as I began again hearing the door closed behind me. As I ministered to her she seemed minded to talk.

"My husband and I have an understanding. He has certain tastes and I have my own. There have been moments of intimacy, we have a daughter, she goes up to university this year, but we each follow our own path.

When I moved to Amsterdam I was introduced to the woman you know as Celeste. She has been able to accommodate my needs in many different ways. You are not the first and you most certainly won't be the last.

I love her little devices and I have gone to great expense to have every door and window wired...but then you already know the consequences of trying to slip away."

As I reapplied myself, dividing my attention between each of her labia in turn, I wondered if it was the whiff of scandal that had driven her into early retirement; perhaps her husband was similarly compromised and the marriage suited both their purposes.

She was getting ever warmer but she made clear that she was in no hurry to bring things to a climax. I could tell, somehow, that it was not just my tongue that was having an effect on her.

In the distance a doorbell rang and she made me stop whilst she got up and adjusted her clothing.

"Don't let me down. We have an expats card club each week and it's my turn to host."

As she finished speaking the door opened and the maid escorted three women into the room. They were all well dressed and exuded an air of natural authority. The youngest of them was possibly in her twenties and an archetypal Nordic blonde. She kissed her hostess expansively on both cheeks and then stood aside for the second woman.

Before she even opened her mouth I guessed that she was an American. She was a least twice the age of the blonde and very solidly built but she had obviously invested a lot of money in trying to stave off the ravages of age.

The third of the trio looked vaguely familiar and when she was asked how things were at the embassy something clicked. The Kenyan embassy in the Hague had recently been the target of a car bomb attempt. The bomb failed to detonate but the car ploughed into a line of people queuing for visas. One of the consular staff had been nicknamed "the angel of mercy" as she ministered to the wounded and the picture that had gone round the world showed her taking off her blouse to use it a makeshift tourniquet.

It had helped that she was a particularly attractive young Kenyan woman and I was sure that this was her. Her hair was a little different; it was now close cropped, but that only made her dark features all the more striking.

The older woman confirmed my guess when she sidled up closer to me.

"He's a nice one. I think I'd like to get started straight away."

Her accent was deep south and she wasted no time in taking a seat at the table. The others laughed as they joined her and then the hostess explained to me.

"We'll be playing poker. It's just for token stakes but a winning hand brings its own bonus."

With a subtle movement of her hand she indicated the vacant seat at the table. I was perplexed until she whispered to me.

"Just put into practise all that you've learnt...your future may depend on it."

It was then that I grasped that my place was not at the table but beneath it. In my mind's eye I saw myself tearing them apart them with a show of brute strength but, knowing just how easily I could be subdued, I breathed deeply and forced myself to bide my time.

Ignoring their mocking smiles I took my place as the last chair slid into place to complete my confinement. The four contrasting pairs of legs formed the bars of my cage and I wondered just what was expected of me.

The first hint came as I heard cards being dealt and the familiar click of betting chips. The opening hand was over quickly as the American bid over aggressively, enough to force the others out.

I heard her pulling the pot towards her but then a light went on to my left. It was set into the underside of the table, small, but very bright. As my eyes were drawn to it the American, sitting at that edge of the table, blatantly opened her legs.

She was not wearing hose and the orange peel texture of her inner thighs was harshly illuminated. A twisted fascination brought my gaze to her exposed sex and the sight was not edifying.

She had prominent labia but not a matched pair. One lip was noticeably less full than the other giving the impression of a lopsided smile. I also noted that she was imperfectly depilated as if she was in a hurry or simply did not care. The odd barbs numbered more gray than dark.

My stomach felt decidedly uneasy but it was something I simply had to get through. I closed my eyes, leant in, and began.

She was already aroused and my tongue was greeted with a sour wetness but she warmed quickly. I closed my eyes and tried, without success, to imagine someone else.

It took such any effort of will that I almost forgot the game but then the light above me went out. It took a moment to appreciate that a new light had come on and this time it was the Nordic woman.

The cue was obvious and I shuffled around on my knees. Only when I was in place did she slowly open her legs and I was not surprised to find that she had eschewed any underwear. After the American this was paradise. She had long tanned legs and on her inner thigh she had a tattoo of a cute teddy bear with a tee shirt bearing the blue cross of the Finnish flag.

Her sex was a neat, bare, mound with a tight divide but the scent of her arousal was already apparent. She yielded almost immediately to the pressure of my tongue and I lunged deep inside as if to rid myself of the memory of the American.

The next hand took longer and I had the impression that she was deliberately stringing things out so that she could continue to take advantage of me. Her friends began to scold her affably and finally the cards were played.

I could tell from the sounds above me what had ensued but my fears were made manifest when the light on the American's side of the table came on again. The Nordic woman gave me a gentle squeeze with her thighs as if to say that she intended to win next time but, in the meanwhile, I was condemned.

I took my place between her heavy thighs only to find that she had leaked arousal in anticipation of this outcome. For a brief moment I contemplated getting to my feet and throwing the table across the room but my mind was being read because a warning current tormented my groin. I reapplied myself with bad grace and hoped that my reluctance was not too evident.

Over the next half an hour the only hands won were either the American or the Finn. From what I could hear I suspected that the hostess was folding with otherwise winning hands and the Kenyan was far too timid in her approach against the hostile bidding of her two friends.

I am sure that the Finn reached a climax but it seemed part of the game to fain indifference to what was happening beneath the table. The American seemed happy to bide her time confident that she could avail herself of my services whenever she wished.

I had just completed another gruelling session between her legs when the pattern was broken. The Kenyan had been dealt a hand that even she could win with and, for the first time, her light was illuminated.

I moved into position but she seemed hesitant to part her legs. When she did so I could see that she was wearing a simple pair of white panties which contrasted with the pale mocha of her skin. Egged on by her friends she reached down and took them off.

Her sex was coy, almost childlike. I had never actually been with a virgin but that was how I felt at that moment albeit her very presence in the room suggested a wealth of experience.

I began to lick at the slight uplift of her mound but achieved no immediate response. For reasons I could not explain I took this as a slight and I redoubled my efforts. Meanwhile I dimly registered that a new hand had been dealt but the other three almost immediately folded. It seemed that they were determined that their friend would enjoy herself however reluctantly.

At that point she surrendered to their design. Like the miraculous blooming of a flower her sex opened to me and I could taste her pent up excitement. My tongue assimilated the familiar tang but my mind imbued it with a hint of something more exotic.

I licked long and deep, seeking more, and the heat from her increased by slow degrees. The game was forgotten as I began to sweat with effort and I could not say what drove me on. Her legs began to tremble and, in the now quiet room, there was an air of expectancy.

Any attempt at pretence was abandoned as she began to gasp audibly and then, after a demanding climb to the summit, she started to climax. The result was a total inundation. Nothing could have prepared me for the flood that washed over me almost drowning me in the process.

In the time it took me to react it was too late. Her legs scissored around my head holding me firm with a surprising strength. Her muscles continued to squeeze me painfully as she determined to wring out every last drop and with it the final vestiges of pleasure.

When she let me go I felt wrecked as I contemplated this transformation from timidity to demanding she-devil but I was forestalled as the American's light came on again.

Chapter Six

I was in danger of losing track of time as I was put to further tests in the ensuing days. There were other women but mainly her as she forced me to refine my technique and read the nuances of her body.

Twice more I tried to escape but was defeated by the wiring of the windows and doors There was, however, one crumb of hope.

She did not wear a wedding band but, instead, an elaborate ring with a Celtic design. I noticed that, when she felt the need to warn me with a threat of pain, she touched the underside of the ring with her thumb.

This evidence that there was probably no one watching us when we were alone set me thinking about how I might physically overwhelm her. My thoughts turned to a knife at her throat, or some such, and I began to look out for a likely weapon. The problem was that it would have to be something close to hand as it would be impossible to secret anything whilst I was kept naked.

It was in the evening that the transparency of my thoughts was made obvious to me. For the very first time she came to me in my cell in company with the maid.

"Stay where you are and put your hands above your head."

I was lying on the bed and immediately noted her thumb hovering near the ring. Deciding that this was not the moment I stretched my arms and the maid proceeded to secure my wrists to the bed posts. She then fastened my ankles in similar fashion.

I wondered why they now felt it necessary to physically restrain me given that they could drop me any time they wanted and I awaited an explanation.