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The Black Room
The Black Room Read online
The Black
Room
Lisette Ashton
Rover Books
New york
www.RoverBooks.com
This book is a work of fiction.
In real life, make sure you practice safe sex.
This book is made available in electronic form by permission of VirginBooks by RoverBooks.
www.RoverBooks.com
First published in 1998 by
Nexus
332 Ladbroke Grove
London W10 5AH
Copyright © Lisette Ashton 1998
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-10: 0-7952-0553-8
ISBN-13: 978-0-7952-0553-8
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The author and publisher specifically disclaim any responsibility for any liability, loss, or risk, personal or otherwise, which is incurred as a consequence, directly or indirectly, of the use and application of any of the contents of this book.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
One
Kelly sat nervously in the waiting room, trying not to think about what she had done.
It was a clean, pleasant room with sunlight glinting through the louvre blinds at the windows. The walls were plastered with a wide array of posters, warning against the dangers of smoking and unprotected sex, in cheerful, primary colours. Dozens of the eye-catching images covered the room’s entire wall space but Kelly, lost in her own solemn reverie, could not be bothered to look at them. She ignored her surroundings just as she ignored the untidy pile of glossy magazines on the seat next to her. Her fingers played nervously with the clasp of her bag and her head was tilted downward, as though she was totally absorbed by this fascinating spectacle.
Sitting alone in a discreet corner of the room, she looked like a woman trying to hide from the world.
Her thoughts were fully occupied by the big step she had taken and the greater ones that stretched ahead of her. In spite of her fiery mane of red hair and enigmatic good looks, Kelly was not a confident woman. Every decision she made was invariably dogged by grave doubt and deep misgivings. This latest one was no exception. Admittedly she had been left with no other choice but Kelly still fretted at the boldness of her own actions. This was not simply a giant step she had taken: it was a desperate leap into the unknown.
The waiting-room door crashed open. The sound was so sudden and unexpected it jolted Kelly abruptly from her thoughts. She glanced up to see a young woman burst into the waiting room.
Long golden curls bounced over the girl’s narrow shoulders as she ran. The hair hid her face from view as she glanced back at her pursuer. The blonde was closely followed by a brunette, taller and blessed with a muscular, athletic build. Both women were breathing heavily, as though the chase had been an arduous one.
Before the blonde could reach the room’s only other door, the darker woman grabbed her by the shoulder. She pushed her heavily to the wall, pinning her there.
‘One more stunt like that, Helen, and I’ll see you in the black room,’ the brunette said breathlessly.
Kelly considered the pair uneasily.
Helen, the woman being pressed against the wall, was a good-looking Nordic blonde. She had a haughty expression and a severe, arrogant line to her jaw. Under other circumstances, Kelly guessed the woman would have looked intimidating or austere. She had the innate self-possession of a Valkyrie warrior-maiden. Now, as the blonde stared timidly at her captor, she did not look remotely imposing. Her terrified expression hovered somewhere between desperate defiance and outright fear.
‘I…I…didn’t…didn’t do anything, Mistress Stacey,’ she stammered hurriedly. Her eyes were wide with trepidation. ‘I…’ She got no further.
‘Don’t give me that crap,’ Stacey growled fiercely. She pulled Helen forward then shoved her roughly against the wall again. Swiftly, she raised a hand and slapped the blonde hard across the face. The sound echoed around the waiting room like a pistol shot.
Kelly muttered a small cry of surprise. She was briefly thankful that her own shocked whimper was drowned out by the blonde’s startled gasp.
Mistress Stacey was a formidable figure, taller and broader than the younger woman. Her powerful athletic body was clad in a loose blouse and skirt but this did not detract from her obvious physical capability. She moved her hand away from Helen’s cheek, revealing the angry red blush her blow had caused. ‘You’re this far away from spending a day in the black room,’ she whispered furiously, holding her index finger and thumb slightly apart. Her teeth were clenched together as she spoke, reinforcing her barely concealed fury. ‘Why don’t you just come clean and make it easier on yourself?’ She paused for a moment, studiously watching Helen’s face for a response. When Helen made no reply, Stacey acted swiftly. She released the girl’s shoulder and made to grab at the front of her blouse.
‘No!’ Helen gasped. She half-heartedly put her hands in front of herself for protection.
The commanding brunette slapped Helen’s hands away then brought her knuckles across the blonde’s strong Nordic jaw. Helen moaned, a low, guttural sound, and raised a hand to the side of her face where she had been struck. She began to sob as Stacey placed both hands on her blouse and effortlessly ripped the garment open.
From her unnoticed seat Kelly tried fervently not to look at Helen’s breasts. She had been brought up to believe in the virtues of modesty and chastity. Even though she was a reluctant witness, the scene being played out before her made Kelly feel like a depraved Peeping Tom. She employed a huge effort of willpower trying not to look at Helen’s body. However, the sight drew her gaze like a magnet.
Helen’s full, round orbs were barely concealed in a white lacy bra. The dark circles of her areolas were clearly visible through the skimpy fabric of her underwear. There was also a noticeable rise and fall of her chest, as though she was very excited. The hard nubs of her nipples strained urgently against their confines. Her laboured breathing had deepened into low gasps of obvious pleasure. The sultry pout of her lips, and the shine of excitement in her eyes, made it clear that Helen was not Mistress Stacey’s unwilling victim.
Stacey fondled Helen’s breasts with a careless disregard that bordered on brutality. Her fingers roughly massaged the girl’s pliant flesh through the fabric of her underwear, pressing mercilessly into the soft, sensitive skin. She paid particular attention to the taut buds of Helen’s nipples, extracting a series of responses from her victim that sounded simultaneously pained and pleasured.
‘We could have sorted this out a lot quicker in my chamber,’ Stacey said dourly. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy my little game with the tawse last week?’ she whispered.
Helen groaned softly, as though she were enduring the special delights of a half-forgotten memory. She closed her eyes and pressed her head back against the wall. Her bottom lip pushed forward unconsciously and she sighed happily beneath Stacey’s rough manhandlin
g.
‘Tell me where it is, Helen, and we can overlook this little matter,’ Stacey growled softly. She squeezed one of the blonde’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger. Her grin widened as Helen tried unsuccessfully to stifle a gasp of pain. ‘Speak up,’ Stacey hissed in a threatening tone. ‘You don’t want me to play rough, do you?’
Before Helen could reply, Stacey was already acting. Continuing to hold Helen’s erect nipple, she kept the blonde pressed securely against the wall. With her other hand she reached downwards and traced her fingers up one of Helen’s stocking-clad legs.
‘No, mistress!’ Helen whispered. She breathed the words in a dark, husky murmur that sounded more like encouragement than refusal.
Stacey stared menacingly into the blonde’s face while her hand continued its slow journey upward. Helen wore a short, flared skirt and the hem was raised by Stacey’s wrist as her hand went higher. The skirt lifted to reveal the dark tops of Helen’s stockings, beneath the creamy expanse of her milky-white thighs. The hem continued to rise until the white triangle of Helen’s knickers was on full view.
Stacey’s fingers paused at the gusset of Helen’s panties. She traced the outline of Helen’s pouting labia through the thin cotton fabric. Then she drew her fingertips along the warm skin next to the elasticated band of her knickers. Each movement was slow, yet decisive, designed to arouse Helen without letting her forget who was in charge.
Helen moaned softly, the sound coming from some dark, delightful place situated between agony and ecstasy. With her eyes still closed, she licked her lips avariciously, savouring the pleasure of the moment.
Stacey continued to study Helen’s face. A tight, twisted smile curled her lips, as though she was enjoying the blonde’s discomfort and unhappiness. She used her fingers adeptly and shifted the gusset of Helen’s panties to one side revealing the tender pink lips of the blonde’s shaved pussy. With the tip of her index finger she traced a slow line back and forth along the length of Helen’s crease.
Helen sighed softly. Lost in the elation of the moment she seemed to have forgotten the danger that threatened her. Unconsciously, she rubbed the tops of her exposed thighs with the palms of her hands. Her fingers were splayed wide apart as though she were in the throes of unprecedented ecstasy. Her soft sighs slowly became deeper as Stacey continued to tease the sensitive pink flesh of Helen’s hole.
Stacey’s cruel smile tightened as she watched Helen. She continued to squeeze one nipple, rolling it carefully between her tightly pressed fingers. Her other hand was occupied in the warm cleft between the blonde’s legs, rubbing the tactile lips of her pussy with slow deliberation. Deftly, she used her index and ring fingers to part the blonde’s labia, then slowly slid her middle finger deep into the heated wetness of Helen’s sex.
The blonde cried out in shocked surprise, her eyes opening wide.
Kelly watched as the middle finger slid deeper and deeper into the depths of Helen’s moist hole. She had never seen two women sharing such intimacy before and as her initial feelings of revulsion dissipated, they were replaced by an unbidden thrill of excitement.
She had been holding her breath from the moment the two women burst into the room. Initially she had been wary of disturbing the pair and suffering their retribution. Now she was fearful of alerting them to her presence and interrupting the erotic scene. Watching Stacey fondle Helen with such brutal disregard had been intensely stimulating, as had the sight of the brunette fingering the blonde’s vagina. The heat of Kelly’s excitement had brought with it a delightful moistness she had not anticipated. She was determined to see how the spectacle progressed.
Along with the middle finger, Stacey thrust her index finger upward, deep into the welcoming warmth of Helen’s pussy lips. The blonde released a long sultry moan of ecstasy. Stacey twisted her hand slightly to one side, then pushed both fingers deep inside Helen’s cleft as far as they would go.
‘Nuh…No, Mistress Stacey, I…’ Helen’s cheeks were furiously red with the warm glow of her mounting excitement. Her refusals and denials were half-hearted in the extreme. The enjoyment she was receiving from the mistress’s unorthodox body search clearly exceeded her embarrassment and discomfort. One nipple pressed fiercely against the confines of her bra, the other stood rigidly between the tips of Stacey’s merciless fingers. Each breath was a short, ragged exclamation of her arousal.
Stacey squeezed cruelly hard on Helen’s nipple, inspiring a sharp cry of surprised pain. At the same time she tugged her fingers swiftly from Helen’s pussy, making the movement viciously harsh and lacking in intimacy.
Helen gasped as though she had been slapped.
The fingers slid easily from Helen’s warmth, bringing with them a small plastic-wrapped package that she had secreted in the most intimate of hiding places. Both fingers, and the package, were glistening slickly with the creamy moisture of Helen’s excitement. Stacey held the bag between her index finger and thumb, then swayed it hypnotically to and fro in front of Helen’s face.
‘Money, Helen?’ she enquired knowingly. A pantomime frown of maternal disapproval stretched her lips. The charade did not mask her true feelings at making this discovery, nor did her austere tone. The fact she was delighted with this result was blatantly obvious. ‘Quite a lot of money, it would seem. You know the rules about having so much cash in the hostel, don’t you, Helen?’ Stacey sneered. ‘Have you been stealing again?’
Helen stifled a sob, closed her eyes and turned away from Mistress Stacey. A pained expression strained her features. She had placed a hand to her groin, and was rubbing her fingers purposefully against the swell of her exposed lips. Her manicured nails deftly stroked the dark-pink flesh. Spreading the folds wide open she eased a finger inside herself, moistening the pad with the creamy juice of her arousal. Suitably lubricated, she began to draw impatient circles over the hood of her clitoris. The bead of erectile tissue was slowly teased to the brink of climax with a wicked combination of skill and urgency. Oblivious to her audience, Helen furiously caressed herself to the pinnacle of pleasure. Her colour darkened and a broad smile of elated satisfaction crossed the blonde’s face. She groaned happily with a climactic shiver of pleasure that coursed through her entire body.
As the waves of happiness receded she stood quietly for a moment in a state of delighted rapture. When she opened her eyes, they were shining with excitement. The expression was only a fleeting one, disappearing the instant she found her gaze focusing on Kelly. A shocked expression replaced the look of satisfaction she had been wearing. Modestly, she tugged her skirt down and coughed back a surprised exclamation.
Aware of the sudden change in Helen’s mood, Stacey turned and saw Kelly for the first time. She sucked in her breath angrily, treating Kelly to a glare of the darkest venom. Acting with the instinctive alacrity of a wild animal, Mistress Stacey walked over to Kelly and pointed a menacing finger in her face. ‘You didn’t see anything, do you understand?’ she hissed threateningly.
In her hurry to agree, Kelly found herself on the point of stammering just as Helen had done. She swallowed nervously and closed her eyes, trying to compose her thoughts before replying.
‘You didn’t see anything,’ Mistress Stacey repeated.
Her finger was so close to Kelly’s nose she could sense the fragrance of Helen’s musky pussy juices that still lingered there. It was a sweet scent that filled her nostrils and unwittingly triggered the memory of her earlier arousal. Wilfully dismissing this notion, Kelly nodded her head in furious agreement. ‘I didn’t see anything,’ she repeated. ‘Nothing at all. I’m sorry,’ she added unnecessarily.
Stacey appeared not to have heard anything else. She turned her attention back to Helen and graced her with a look of the darkest fury. ‘We’ll finish this in your dormitory,’ she said in a tone of barely tempered rage. ‘Wait for me there, you little thief.’
Dismissed, Helen fled from the room casting a meaningful glare at Kelly. The defiant expression only flickered i
n her eyes for a moment. It was not there long enough for Mistress Stacey to notice but it was sufficient for Kelly to know she had just made an enemy. A very dangerous enemy.
As the waiting-room door closed on Helen, Kelly realised she was alone with Stacey. It was an unsettling realisation and Kelly swallowed nervously, aware that her heart was beating an alarmed tattoo in her chest. She stared up at the woman uncertainly, wishing she did not feel so intimidated. ‘I didn’t see anything,’ she repeated earnestly. ‘Honestly I…’
Mistress Stacey reached out and stroked a finger across Kelly’s lips, silencing her panicked babble. It was a gesture that should have felt unpleasant or threatening. Instead, Kelly found the careful caress was curiously stimulating. The delicate touch rekindled the deep warmth of her earlier arousal. Her finger traced its way gently along the length of Kelly’s pouting lower lip, provoking a shiver of excitement that travelled from the base of her neck to the tip of her spine.
She was startled by an unexpected pang of urgency that seemed to emanate from her nipples. With an inward sigh of disdain she realised she was suffering the unexpected symptoms of pure sexual arousal. It had been so long since she had experienced such feelings, Kelly wondered if her memory was playing tricks on her. However, when the inner walls of her pussy began to throb with their own hungry desire, Kelly knew she had not been mistaken. She stared into the mysterious depths of the mistress’s ebony eyes, wondering if she too had sensed that electric tingle of sexual attraction.
‘Is this your first day at the hostel?’ Stacey asked softly, stroking her finger along Kelly’s cheek.
Kelly swallowed nervously again and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She felt torn between conflicting emotions, not knowing whether to trust her desires or her fear. Stacey had been brutal and domineering in her treatment of Helen, and Kelly considered the woman to be utterly terrifying. However, she had never before felt stimulated or aroused by the presence of another woman and the sensation was so unfamiliar it piqued her curiosity. Struggling valiantly with her inner turmoil, Kelly suppressed a shiver and stared helplessly into Stacey’s face.