Page 27 of The Secret Job: Into the Depths of Depravity
“Lovely to meet you, Hugh,” I reply curiously as I continue to wonder if he is indeed a university professor.
“Forgive me Roxy, I just wanted to ensure you are aware of the type of job you have come here to do?” he asks quite seriously. I wonder myself if I know what job I have come here to do.
“Erm yes, I believe it’s the needle play job?” I ask with a question in my tone.
“Good,” he replies, raising one eyebrow. I wonder if I’m not what he was expecting to see in me.
“Have you done a job like this before?” he enquires.
“No, this would be my first one. Is that ok? Am I not what you were expecting?” I ask, worrying that I’m not meeting his expectations.
“Absolutely, that’s ok. I didn’t mean anything by questioning, I just wanted to ensure you know what you are here for and be aware of any previous experiences. Hopefully today will be a good experience for you.”
“I’m sure it will,” I reply, smiling brightly. I want to ask him about the cabin and a whole host of questions about himself, but I can’t.I’m not allowed,I remind myself.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Hugh asks. Is that a hint of excitement I detect in his tone?
“I’m all yours Hugh, where do you want me?”
“If you can undress over there by the bed, I have put down fresh linen, I assure you everything is perfectly clean and sanitary.”
I walk over to the corner of the tiny cabin and begin to take off my blazer. Hugh doesn’t watch me; he busies himself with the preparations. I watch him as I pull off my top and then sit on the bed to take off my heels. He walks over to a record player and puts on a classical music record which I think might beBeethoven. For some reason, the music sends a shiver down my spine, and I begin to look, really look at the person I am about to spend four hours with. He looks clean, with well-trimmed bushy curly hair and clean shaven, and well-to-do judging by the way he speaks and maybe with his choice of music. But don’t psychos put on classical music when they’re about to chop up their victims? I need to hold it together. I think what else is unnerving me is that he is not watching me get undressed. Isn’t that a bit strange? He’s paying $12,000 for me but he’s not watching me. I can’t think of one job where the client hasn’t watched me get undressed. Nerves trickle along the back of my neck and I don’t feel so relaxed anymore as I was in the car on the drive up here.
I continue to peel off my clothes until I’m naked and have them folded up next to me on the bed. I sit and wait and watch. Hugh has a tray lined with packets of items I don’t recognise, he walks towards me holding it and looks up to see me patiently waiting and watching him. “Ah good, you’re ready.” His eyes finally roam my naked form in an open leer. My skin prickles and I start to feel the intensity of the situation I’ve put myself in. “I do have a folding physio table, just one moment and I’ll set it up.”
Hugh places the tray on the bed next to me, walks a few steps to the only wardrobe in the room, opens the double doors and lugs out a folded table.Was it hidden?I wonder as alarm bells are beginning to sound in my mind. He opens it up on the floor, folds the legs out in the centre of the small room and I see it has a padded top. It’s not your everyday market folded table. This one is more like a masseuse table including the hole for your face. Once it’s fully upright, Hugh walks over to the kitchen and picks up a spray and a new washcloth. He begins to clean the table meticulously. Trepidation crawls up my skin, watching him work whilst I sit patiently waiting for him.
“I think I am ready for you Roxy, would you mind bringingthe pillow and coming here and lying down on your back on this table. I can assure you it’s clean and safe.” I stand noticing the quiver in my body as I walk toward the table clutching the pillow against my chest. I lift my leg and climb onto the table on my knees before turning onto my side and then lowering myself onto my bottom and then my back under Hugh’s watchful stare. Hugh lifts the pillow and places it at the head of the table so I can lower my head onto it.
I feel like I’ve just wilfully set myself up on an operation table. Detecting my discomfort, Hugh stands beside me and picks up my hand in his. “Roxy, I know this might be an unusual location and an even more unusual situation, but I assure you I have no ill intent towards you, I only want to use your body for sexually gratifying measures which I hope you too might enjoy when we get into it.”
I see a warmth in Hugh I hadn’t seen up until this point, his sparkling eyes behind his glasses convey he genuinely means to reassure and comfort me. I take a deep breath and squeeze his hand back. “Are you ready to get started?” he asks kindly.
“Yes, I’m ready now,” I reply, trying not to look like a scared deer caught in headlights.
Hugh walks casually back over to the bed and returns with the tray he had put together. He places it on the tiny dining table next to the massage table and pulls out a pair of latex gloves. I watch in alarm as he pulls them on.
“Relax, Roxy, these are purely sanitary measures.”
I follow him with my eyes as he picks up a small, sealed package and tears it open to reveal a line of small needles.And now the shit is about to get real.
“I am going to start with your beautiful breasts Roxy. You can grip the sides of the table should you need but I will perform my task as slowly and painlessly as possible. Will you trust me?”
I nod, unable to find my words, Hugh seems to find this asatisfying reply. He puts down the packet and rips open what looks like an antibacterial wipe and slowly he rubs it across my breasts. The cold wetness sends shivers across my body but also the way he’s wiping it so carefully and methodically makes me tingle in ways antibacterial wipes shouldn’t. When he begins to circle my peaked, hardened nipples, I feel my body crave for him to touch me more. Electricity alights between us, I feel it crackle in my veins flooding straight to my clit in arousal.
Once I’m sufficiently sanitised, he turns back to the tray and picks up a needle and walks over to where he is about to start. “This is a hypodermic needle, Roxy; I am going to ease it just under your skin and back out again,” Hugh explains.
I see the small needle between his fingers and in all fairness, it doesn’t look as frightening as I was beginning to imagine. It almost looks like a dry needle that I’ve had done by my physio.
Hugh stands over me and places one hand on my left breast holding it taut as a small sting crackles through my nerve endings and I feel the needle pierce and enter under a layer of my skin. My body blazes with anticipation as Hugh feeds the needle under my skin slowly and it makes another stinging sensation as the tip reappears out of my skin.
Looking up at my face Hugh asks kindly, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”
I feel quite confused, that wasn’t half as painful as I was expecting. “That wasn’t so bad at all,” I reply, baffled.
“It’s because it’s the smallest level of needle and I have had some practice. Now you have felt the first needle, do you think you can relax a little, I feel and can see your tense muscles from here.”
I smile sheepishly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to expect. I will try and relax now I promise.”
