Tracing shadows on the ceiling as James lay on top of her, Daniella was barely conscious of his slim cock ineffectively winding its way back and forth through her pussy. Her mind drifted instead to the smell of leather and whiskey, to muscles rippling under inked skin and to the percussive force of heavy, silver-buckled, boots…
“Ah, ah, aaaahhh, oh, ahhh, mmmh.”
She felt James' semen moisten her pussy like a dripping tap badly in need of a plumber. He lingered inside her, kissing her chin and neck for several seconds before rolling off her and sighing loudly. She took a deep breath and let a few seconds discreetly pass.
“James, how long is Carl going to be here?”
Instantly defensive and still short of breath, he replied, “C'mon, give the kid a break. It's only been...ah... three weeks. It'll only be for a few weeks more, a couple of months at most. He's had to move all the way from Perth and he's still cut up over the breakup. The band thought it would be a good idea to have a change of scene too, I guess. Besides, we have plenty of room.”
“Those bandmates of his creep me out.”
“Oh, c'mon they're just young lads. We were young once.”
She laughed, “Speak for yourself. I'm only thirty-eight, remember?”
“All I'm saying is, relax, he's going to be no trouble.”
She said nothing and rolled over. On the nightstand, she noticed a booklet from one of Carl's CDs. His father had obviously been reading it. She picked it up and leafed through it,
“Hexentanz, huh?”
“Yeah, it's German for 'the witches' dance'. It was my idea. Oh, and that reminds me, I've got to tell Ursula to bring a few extra violin strings before her lesson on Thursday.”
Glancing at the dead carnations in the vase by the TV, Daniella casually remarked, “It's remarkable how well she plays, isn't it, for a cripple, I mean?”
“Now c'mon, Dani, you could try to be a little more sensitive. She has MS. I wouldn't exactly call her a cripple.”
Daniella ignored him and continued leafing through the CD booklet. A few pages from the back, she paused on the striking image of a tall, slim girl with long, dark hair. A beautiful girl, dressed in what she took to be typical heavy-metal gear.
What a look, it's almost a disguise, she thought.
She was startled then as her husband rested his head on her shoulder, pressing his stubble into her skin. Noticing the picture, he said,
“Oh, that's Lucy, nice girl. I really hope he gets over her soon. Oh, and I'm taking the Ferrari in for a service on Monday. Now, who's first in the shower?”
~~~~~~
On a Saturday night, two weeks later, Daniella arrived at the Enigma Bar around eight. James was away fishing for the weekend so she was spared the trouble of making up some excuse for going out on her own.
She was of average height, slim and athletic, with wavy, dark brown hair that reached halfway down her back. With dark, narrow brows above green almond-shaped eyes, she was often asked if she had East-Asian ancestry by people who didn't know her well. Those who did know her well said nothing. These same people knew that she rarely smiled and when she did, it was only to dazzle the onlooker with her perfect white teeth. Her face was lean and sharp-featured, somewhat predatory perhaps, certainly enigmatic, glacial and beautiful.
She wore black lipstick, dark eye makeup, and a pair of slim-cut black jeans. A plain black t-shirt accentuated her firm, apple-sized breasts. Two strings of black Czech crystal beads completed the look.
The line progressed quickly and soon she showed her ticket to a burly, red-bearded guy at the door who scanned it with his phone.
“Show us your wrist, love.”
“Why?”
“So I can stamp it, darling.”
She did so timidly, then stared at the word 'ENIGMA' in purple ink on her skin and wondered whether it would wash off easily.
As the gig got underway, she bought herself a beer and tried hard to relax and blend in with the crowd. Finally, at around 11.30 pm, three of the members of Hexentanz arrived on stage together. She then saw Carl emerge from behind a curtain at the back. He carried his silver bass guitar and was dressed in tight jeans and a black band tee shirt. In the muted violet light from the overhead array, he looked magnificent; broad-shouldered, slim-hipped and eyes aflame, his blonde hair a lion's mane. Subconsciously, she lifted the beer bottle to her mouth and left it there, wrapping her lips and tongue around it and applying pressure.
Hexentanz began by playing a mainly instrumental piece in which Carl, as the bass player, featured prominently. The song lasted about five minutes, after which the vocalist, whose name she believed was Jeff, greeted the crowd.
“We're Hexentanz from Western Australia! How the fuck ya' doin' Adelaide!?”
The crowd responded with cheers, howls and applause, while Daniella whooped and raised her arm in a tight fist.
After that, Hexentanz's set lasted for another eight or nine songs and with the end of each song, her desire and anxious expectation grew. Of course, her eyes were fixed on Carl the whole time, and despite herself, she found his performance very impressive. It was hardly what he was playing; it was much more how he played that impressed her. He moved with a commanding and easy confidence, playing with great bravura, passion and what she assumed was natural talent. It quite dazzled her and more than wowed the audience of largely female fans.
A girl immediately in front of her then turned to her companion and said, “Fuck, he's hot !”
“Who?” asked her companion.
“The bass player...”
“Mmmm, fuck yeah.”
Both girls giggled as Daniella found perspiration rapidly beading on her brow.
She took another swig of beer and threw caution to the wind. She put her arms around both girls' shoulders and squeezed her face in between their heads. They turned to look at her but were hardly surprised when she said, “Mmmm, yeah, I'd fucking love to get into his jeans. How do we get to meet the band? I'm from out of town. Help me out here, girls.”
The first girl laughed. “Wouldn't we all like a piece of that babe! Go see Oskar over there, he'll...ah...fix you up... with a pass.”
She pointed to the burly guy who had stamped her wrist at the door. Extricating herself from between the two girls, she strode towards where Oskar stood with his beefy arms crossed. As soon as he saw her, his eyes widened and he bent down to hear her.
“You wanna get into The Crypt, did you say? How the fuck do you know about that?”
Taken aback by this response, she struggled to conjure up her long-dormant seductive side.
“Oh please Oskar, be a darling. I came from Loxton for this gig.”
“Oh, is that right! A real country girl, huh? Well, I can get you in all right, just come with me.”
He led her to a door at the very back of the room, produced a huge bunch of keys and opened it. Once inside, Daniella saw a short corridor and a woman in black who sat behind what looked like a large reception desk with a set of double doors beyond it. He unlocked a drawer in the wall from which he produced a lanyard with a slim black card hanging from it.
“This will get you in. See Cheryl over there for the... um...Ts & Cs.”
Cheryl motioned Daniella to approach. She scanned the pass and to Daniella's relief, it beeped with a positive tone.
Coldly she said, “You're not one of our regulars, so there are a few things I have to tell you, OK?”
Daniella nodded and croaked, “OK.”
“If I let you in here, you will be fucked. OK?”
Daniella looked at her in astonishment.
“...Yes.”
“Anyone in that room has the right to fuck you; to fuck your ass, your cunt and your mouth, to double penetrate you and to cum in your ass, your mouth or your cunt. Do you understand?”
What the hell have I got myself into here? What sort of world does Carl inhabit?
But before she could formulate any answers to these thoughts, the girl asked her again, with more insistence, “Do you understand?'
“Yes.”
“You may also be bound, cuffed, collared, leashed, spanked, whipped and slapped. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes.”
Daniella took as deep a breath as her lungs could handle.
“But hey, don't worry, they'll probably go easy on you since you're a newbie. Have fun.”
All Daniella could do was nod rapidly as the girl pressed a button by her seat and the doors opened silently.
“Oh, and drinks are free.”
Beyond the door, at the end of a short corridor, was a much larger space furnished tastefully with low sofas and benches and tables upon which were a variety of drinks. A profusion of plump cushions lent the room an oriental feel.
Fighting awkwardness and more than a little trepidation, she approached one of the drinks tables. She proceeded to mix herself a gin and tonic and turned her attention to the room. To her right, she was met by the sight of several women all wearing black collars and chain leashes sitting calmly and quietly on cushions and looking on.
Further along the wall, an even more curious sight awaited her. It was an elaborate harness of black leather with straps, cuffs and chains. It was attached to the ceiling with several slim cables that disappeared into holes, suggesting a sophisticated hidden mechanism. Daniella looked at it for several minutes, trying to figure out how it worked. She finished her drink and was about to put the glass down when the main door opened and the band entered, along with several men and a larger number of girls.
Carl passed by. He wore a black leather, tasselled vest over his otherwise naked torso with his long blonde hair tousled from wind-milling. Her pussy tingled and, for the first time, she felt a deep hunger in the pit of her gut. He didn't see her, although she stood only a few paces away.
She turned discreetly to see where he was going and noticed a young man standing by her shoulder. He smiled and held up a broad leather collar attached to a heavy silver chain leash.
“Lift your hair.”
Daniella hid her surprise and complied. The man quickly strapped the collar around her neck and then clipped the chain to the ring at the front of it. He ran his eyes over her body and said, “Come with me.”
With that, he gripped the chain and led her to a door in the far corner of the room.
This was a well-lit 'cloakroom'. He led her inside and shut the door. She looked at him with concern in her eyes until he said.
“Locker 36. Strip down to your panties and bra.”
She started to strip as he unlocked the locker for her.
“Phone, purse, everything goes in there.”
Once she was ready, she looked at him half-hopefully.
“Now, get on your hands and knees.”
Finally, she spoke. “Excuse me?” she whispered.
“Get on your hands and knees like a bitch.”
Slowly she complied and the guy smiled. “Good, now come on, and behave.”
He led her out into the room and Daniella soon realised that she was headed for the group of women waiting by the wall. Her 'guide' sat her down at the edge of the group and she noticed that, without exception, they were younger than her and all very attractive.
An older man now approached, dressed in black robes and wearing a mask. The mask was unsettling to look at, tight-fitting, with slits for eyes. It reminded Daniella of what a medieval executioner might have worn.
“This is The Slave Master,” said her guide, “Obey him!”
With that, the young man strode away. The Slave Master looked at the gathered girls for a few seconds and then, in a gruff voice, said, “You, you and...you, new girl.”
He took Daniella's leash and, along with her two companions, led them on their hands and knees to the central area. The sight that greeted Daniella there was surprising and confronting. The Slave Master made them sit a few meters away from where a line of rectangular, padded seats had been arranged end to end. Close together on each one lay a naked man on his back. Between each of the men's legs knelt a woman who was administering a blow-job.
Daniella had never imagined anything like it and stared at the row of glistening cocks disappearing over and over again into the eager mouths of the girls. Moans and sighs mixed oddly yet harmoniously with the dark, relentless bass of the background music. Daniella took all this in slowly, only realising gradually that she would soon be participating.
A minute later, one of the men griped the head of the girl, blowing him and holding it down. He thrust his hips roughly several times into her mouth and threw his head back. He came with a string of loud blasphemies that made several of his companion's grin.
The girl swallowed every drop that he shot into her mouth and after kissing and fondling for a few minutes, the pair left. The vacant space on The Bench was quickly filled by the guy who had originally collared Daniella. He was naked now, muscular, with tattoos of winged horses. She felt something hard running up her leg and realised that it was The Slave Master's riding crop. It stopped between her shoulders and she heard his sly, gruff whisper,
“You're up.”
He pushed her forward and she found herself kneeling between the legs of an almost total stranger. Her new lover eagerly took hold of her leash and she gripped his already hardening cock. All around her, she heard the sounds of lust and passion. She took Winged Horse's cock in her mouth, feeling it rapidly harden between her lips. She had not sucked such a youthful cock since late high school and the look on his face as she got down to the task was eager, to say the least.
The girl to her right now moaned loudly as her lover shot what Daniella imagined was several mouthfuls of cum deep into her throat. Before the couple moved off the bench, the man thrust several times into his companion's throat, then took her leash and led her away. He was replaced by Carl.
Daniella struggled to divert her gaze but his body was only a few centimetres away from where she was now licking and sucking Winged Horse who had begun to thrust his ample cock deeper and deeper into her throat. He was vocal too, uttering harsh whispers,
