Page 45 of The Secret Job: Into the Depths of Depravity
“Have you ever given these to anyone before?” I enquire.
“No Miss Roxy, just you.” That answer makes me want to heave my breakfast up, but I try and shrug it off and take the tablet. I fasten the mask over my eyes as usual but wonder if it’s really necessary now I’ve taken a sedative.
“I’ll be nearby the whole time Miss Roxy. Just so you know.”
“Thanks Frank, I’m really grateful for that,” I reply as brightly as I can muster.
Frank pulls out and I lay my head back on the head rest and let the heavy pull of the sedative take me under, falling asleep to the bumps and dips of the road to wherever Frank is driving me.
18
Ifeel myself come back into my body like I’ve been in a deep sleep. I try to blink my eyes but the blindfold is still covering them. I move my arms but realise they are gripped into place at the wrists outstretched above my head. I move my feet feeling the cuffs anchoring my legs open. I’m no longer sitting in the car but strapped down on something flat and hard. Fear clasps at my heart which suddenly bursts into deafening thuds ricocheting in my chest, echoing around my head, deafening me.
My breathing picks up to panicked short breaths as I take in my surroundings or lack of them. I cannot see, I cannot move much with my arms and legs stretched out fully in their restraints. And I cannot hear a damn thing other than my own heartbeat because there is something covering my ears.
Panic rises like bile, and I try to slow everything down so I can hear my thoughts over my pounding heart rate. What was the last thing I remember? Being in Frank’s car. He gave me a sedative, a strong one if they were able to get me into this position without waking me. Am I clothed? Yes, I think I feel my jeans around my legs and my top around my body, just noshoes—my feet are bare. Am I warm or cold? I’m sweating from adrenaline, but I don’t feel heat or a breeze on my toes. How long have I been here and why have they taken away my sight and hearing? This is not how I saw things starting, I couldn’t have been prepared to awaken already tied down and deprived of two of my senses, it’s unnerving to say the least. Are there people in the room with me, are they watching me? Are they enjoying my panic?
A trickle of cold fear begins to run down my neck as I wonder what kind of people are behind this job and what they plan to do with me for five whole days and nights? I begin to tremble in fear and anxiety. What have I done? Was I reckless? Should I have taken heed to Sandy’s warning? Should I have turned down this job because these men are psychos? I am beginning to think the answer is yes. But surely not. The booking was from one of the owners, they wouldn’t be this unhinged—would they?
My eyes move wildly behind the fabric covering my eyes, I try and take control of my body and suck in deep lungfuls of air to calm my nerves and my racing heart. As I breath in deeply through my nose and out through my mouth I’m thankful there is nothing covering my mouth at least. My nose sucks in a scent which I recognise—a cologne? Why can I smell that? Where is it coming from? I continue to breathe in deeply and with every lungful of air, clarity overrides my panic and I start to think about the job, the kinks and the type of men who are most likely watching me struggle. They like this, they want me to be afraid and scared. They must be enjoying the show so far because I’m still strapped down. And I’m sure they are watching me.
I clear my throat, “Hello?” I whisper, and I wait. Nothing happens. “Hello?” I say louder and still nothing happens. Maybe they like to see me struggle more, maybe they want to watch me have a full-blown panic attack. I can’t understandwhat these men want until I meet them, all I can do is wait.Thankfully I am lying down and not hanging,I think to myself.
Every minute feels like an eternity, I strain to listen through what must be noise cancelling headphones but of course, I hear nothing. I try and calm my whirling mind which is going around and around in my head that this is a huge mistake. I tell myself off, this is not a mistake, this is more money than I’ll ever make. This is just another kink, and I can do this. I’m not hurt, I’m not tortured—I’m deprived of my senses. And as I finally calm a bit I realize I’m curious. I want to be able to do this. I am not in pain, I am not necessarily uncomfortable and in reality, I am being paid to be tied down like this.
I manage to tame my thoughts into some kind of order. I need to breathe, to focus on relaxing each muscle in my body starting with my feet up to my neck. Then I remind myself I have not been kidnapped, I have come here willingly, and these men cannot harm me, I can tap out and go home whenever I need to. My mouth is unhindered so I can say my safe word at any point—despite the seeming lack of options they ensured I’d still have that. I am okay. Most people would say otherwise, but I am a playmate, I am a professional, I have got this.
I have no idea of the time—the number of times I’ve asked myself to relax each muscle in my body has felt infinite—when I feel a warm breath on my neck. It sends an immediate shudder down my neck as every hair on my body stands on end and every nerve ending begins to power into fight or flight mode. “Hello?” I ask tentatively again. Nothing. I wait. My heart is thumping so hard, I’m sure it’s going to burst through my chest and run away in fear.
There it is again, a warm breath at my neck which makes me automatically try and shuffle away, but I can only move my head to the side. Why is this person doing this? Are they fucking with me? “Please,” I say tentatively, “please let me see you.”
Instead, I feel fingers run down my neck, they’re gentle, purely a soft touch. My entire body is in tune to this touch and I follow it with my mind as it travels down my clothed chest, over my breast, across my navel, down my pussy and then all the way down my right leg until they trail over my foot and then underneath. A laugh bursts out of me as my foot jolts from the touch as it tickles. The fingers disappear and then nothing. “Hello?” I ask again, wondering who the fingers belongs to and where they are now.
I sense a movement on the flat surface I’m attached to and then feel two legs straddle my hips, gently lowering their weight onto me. They’re not crushing me so whoever this person is, they are not huge or overly heavy. I feel warm breath on my lips and open mine in a gasp of shock, inhaling a minty scent. Soft lips dust over mine and I stay still, straining at all my senses trying to determine what this person is doing and their motives. “Hello,” I breathe directly into the stranger’s mouth I guess. “Can you take off my mask so I can see you?” Nothing. Instead, the lips brush mine again, toying with me. I can do nothing but lie still and see what they do next.
The lips lower to mine but just as they rise again, a tongue peeks out and licks at the circumference of my lips, tasting me. What I would give to be able to see, touch or hear right now. I don’t ask again, instead I silently allow whoever this person is to do whatever it is they intend to do. I have no other option.
Tentatively the unknown lips find mine and this time I kiss back. The lips open a little and their tongue softly ventures into my mouth, cautiously, seeking my tongue and tasting me. In and out their tongue laps along mine, searching, seeking, tangling for the first time. There is no heat, no passion, no hunger. It is delicate, soft, and new. Nothing like I can remember being kissed before. A warm hand weaves its way around my neck, and I open more for the exploring tongue and mouth. A sense of gentle calm envelopes me as I begin to losemyself in this tender kiss. There is no reconciling the gentleness of this person to the situation I awoke to. Which one is this? The father or one of the sons. I know it’s a man because I can feel his stiff length rub against me. He breaks away and I smile shyly up at him, not knowing a single detail about this person above me other than the way he kisses and tastes of mints. I want to ask to touch him but instead I say, “Kiss me like that again.”
I feel his smile against my lips before his mouth is on mine and he’s kissing me again, we find our rhythm and become joined at the mouth as we indulge in this kiss that feels secret and stolen. I can’t move except to turn my neck and whilst that should be terrifying, this man brings a comfort that relaxes my core, and sets alight a simmering flame in my clit.
I feel the jolt of his body as he tears his mouth away from mine as if hearing something and swiftly climbs off my body so I’m alone again. “Hello?” I ask stupidly again. The atmosphere in the room has shifted, gone is the person with the soft lips and the comfort he brought turns to fear at his sudden departure. My lips begin to tremble.
The headphones are lifted from my ears and my hearing tunes into the environment around me. It’s like someone just switched on the sound. I can’t hear much—a breeze rustling trees outside of wherever we are and a bird chirping in the distance but nothing else. “Hello Roxy,” comes a chilling voice that has my insides recoiling and wishing I couldn’t hear again. “I’m so glad you decided to take our job, what fun we are going to have together,” purrs his cruel and leering voice, malice dripping from each word and I can’t imagine he was the one who was on my body and kissing me so delicately seconds ago.
“Hi,” I reply as casually as I can muster. “What is your name?”
“You can call me Master seeing as you will do exactly what Iask you to do for the next five days.” I can hear the smile in his tone and can imagine it thin and ugly on his face.
“Who was just kissing me, Master?” I ask hopefully.
“That, Whore, was my half-brother Angus. I can’t wait for you to meet him properly,” he replies, sounding jovial which can’t be good. “But first, I’d like to go over some house rules with you. What is your safe word?”
“Neptune, Master.”
“Good. Despite the fact I hate safe words, father insists you have one and therefore if you use it, we will stop immediately, and you can stop the scene or leave altogether. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Master.”
