Page 53 of The Secret Job: Into the Depths of Depravity
I climb off the stool and brush my t-shirt down, cringing at the state of me in comparison to Mateo’s crisp, clean clothes. I almost don’t feel worthy being in his presence but then have to remind myself, they chose me. I am here because they wanted to play withme. Mateo holds out his hand and I take it, allowing him to lead me out of the kitchen and up the two flights of stairs entering back into the attic room. Not once did I see or hear Angus and Jacob. Where were they? Will they be live-streaming?
Entering the room, I see it’s exactly as I left it. “Let’s get started, can you lift Angus’ t-shirt off?”
I nod and pull up the hem and tug the t-shirt over my head standing completely exposed and awkward. Mateo stops what he was about to do mid stride and turns to me making me jump, his creepy face mere centimeters from mine as his body stands close but not touching. I think he forgets he looks like the Joker, but his eyes show something different to his face. They look dazzled as though he’s just spotted the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Running the back of his hand down my face, our size difference is stark as he stands well over 6 foot and my 5ft 5. Everything about him screams he’s in his prime,although I can’t guess how old he is. He stands strong, confidence oozing sex appeal even with the Joker face. His salt and pepper hair sits cropped and styled, his ice blue eyes look crystal clear, likely even grey in certain lights, and I wonder if I was to see him in the street whether I’d be attracted to him. I can’t help feeling a shiver as he pays me so much attention, goosebumps crawling up my skin in anticipation and excitement.
Putting both hands around my waist, he slowly runs them up my body until he gets to my armpits where he adds pressure forcing me to lift my arms up. He holds my wrists in one hand above my head and looks down at me as I look up at him unsure what is happening. He reaches up above his head and I realise we are standing underneath the hanging bar from the rafters. Reaching for it, he tugs it lower and pulls out a set of handcuffs from his pocket. Hooking them over the bar, he cuffs my wrists as I stand obediently watching him secure my arms above me. He lets go of my wrists and pulls the bar up higher by a chain hooked by the wall so my arms are raised high above my head but my feet are still flat on the floor.
“You look stunning like this. One accessory and then you’re ready for me,” he reaches into his other pocket and pulls out an eye mask. He holds the front over my eyes and velcros it tight at the back of my head. “Can you see anything, little rabbit?” he enquires.
“No Sir,” I reply, an automatic response to his dominance.
“Good girl.”
I hear his light footsteps leave as I wait, hanging from the beams of the attic. What is he going to do to me? Why can I not see him do it? Is that part of his fantasy or for more sinister reasons? Light footsteps return through the door and I wonder what he left to collect? A whip? A cane?Some kind of torture device, I’m positive of that.
24
Ismell something earthy but that’s the only inclination of what is about to come. I honestly have no clue and am quite aware I won’t be able to think of it when everyone’s kinks seem to be so far outside my imagination.
“Little rabbit, I know you’ll do this for me, but I want to ensure you’re aware that you can use your safe word, and I will stop immediately. It’s a type of sensation play. I’d like it to be a surprise on your body, I want to see your reaction. But I can tell you if you need to know now?”
Turning it over in my mind, I want this experience to be everything he wants and more. If he requests for it to be a surprise, I should do it. Plus maybe it’s better that I don’t see what’s coming. I reply, “I’d prefer the surprise please, Sir,” as fear and anticipation twist in my stomach. “Will it hurt?” I ask hesitantly, not knowing if I’m allowed to ask.
“Wait and feel,” he whispers close to my ear, excitement lacing his tone. The hairs raise on the back of my neck as my heart rate picks up speed and pounds in my ears. I can hardly hear anything else around me.What is going on?
The first thing I feel is a brushing against the side of my leftbreast. Flowers? A bush? Something with leaves?What can it be?Mateo slowly runs it down my side and in its wake prickles tingle across my skin. They burn and begin to itch. What is happening? What is he caressing over my skin?
I feel the leaves run down from the side of my right breast down to my waist and I twist my body as the fiery itch begins to burn. “Ouch,” I mewl.
“I know it burns, little rabbit,” coos Mateo, “but know your mottled skin is mouthwatering right now. I love to see the red streaks colour your perfect pale skin and watch you react to the nettles’ kiss.”
This time I feel two bunches of nettles run fiery itching streaks down from my shoulders, across my back and finish underneath my bottom. I shoot forward trying to get away from the nettles’ touch. “It’s ok little rabbit, once your body is screaming, I have something that will take all the pain away.”
I twist and turn my body anticipating the next strike of the leaves, but I cannot escape their reach. I can’t see them coming towards me and I can’t really move away even if I could. Relentlessly I feel the nettles rain down on my skin, the more I move, the more he covers my skin in the prickling bushes. I feel the prickles on my thighs, on my shins, at the back of my legs, behind my knees and then at my arse. Slap after slap of the bush against my burning skin as an itchy heat radiates across my body. “Please,” I beg, “it hurts, it itches.”
“But you look so beautiful, I can’t stop until I’m finished.” I feel the nettles raise above my breasts and then rain down on them with double speed until I’m a hopping, twisting mess.
“Ow, ow, ow!” I cry as rash upon rash pebbles across my skin and I know I must be nearly covered. He’s whipped me from my neck to my toes, everything burns and screams for soothing attention.
“One last place, I have saved the best for last.”
“No.” Oh god, I think he means my pussy. Surely he doesn’t mean my pussy.
“Yes.” His tone makes it clear there is no chance of reprieve. He leans in close to my ear and adds, “Open your legs little rabbit or I’ll strap them to a stretcher bar.”
What the fuck?
I brace my whole body and nudge my legs apart. The minute the leaves whip against my most delicate area and then up the back of my arse crack I howl and close my legs.
“Tut tut tut, open those pretty legs.”
“Please no, no more, it stings there,” I beg.
“Open,” he commands, giving me no room to negotiate, I reluctantly open my legs again as they begin to shake.
Suddenly light meets my eyes when I feel the eye mask tugged away from my face.
“There she is, I want to see your eyes before I make it all better for you.”
