Chapter 11

"How do you like your first month with Love, Inc.?" asked the director. He was rocked back in his big chair looking as if he'd like nothing better than to put his feet up on the desk. He didn't though. That wouldn't be proper.

"It's been super. There hasn't been a single duplication of customer desires in the entire time. It's been just super!" she repeated.

"Glad you like it. Since you've come through the probationary period well, I guess it's okay to let you know a little more of the operation."

For the next twenty minutes, he told her all about the inner workings of Love, Inc. He even told her where it was located, how customers got in touch with him.

This was everything Bill needed to make the bust.

Somehow, Laurine felt cheated. It was, all too easy. She should have been sneaking around like a spy and digging into locked file drawers for the information. The director just told her. It was a big let-down.

Even worse, she knew her time at Love, Inc. was coming to an end. As soon as Bill was told all this, he'd call in the vice cops and they'd shut the entire place down. She'd be out of an attractive job, one that stimulated her and gave her the physical gratification she needed.

"So, by way of reward for faithful service and all that, here are the keys to a new Mercedes."

"What?" She couldn't believe her ears. He was giving her one of the most expensive cars on the road. Just giving it to her.

"Don't wreck it or anything. Just consider this a bonus and a welcome to the staff of Love, Inc. Now," he said, looking over another folder, "you have another customer waiting for you. I'm sure you'll continue to give the good service you've given our customers in the past."

"Un-huh, sure thing," she said, distracted. The man had just given her a car worth more than she could have hoped to make in three years of work as a secretary or some other drudge job, then calmly told her to go on and take care of a customer.

Laurine didn't know how to react.

She was still in something of a daze as she walked into the room. She was completely taken by surprise when hands grabbed her from behind. Thrown forward, she stumbled and fell headlong onto a bed.

The lights came up a little to reveal a huge bed and nothing else in the room. It was a king sized bed and was covered with a fur spread. The softness of the bedspread tickled her cheek as she turned to see who her attacker was.

The man wasn't very tall. And if she had to classify him, she'd have to say honestly he was sort of skinny. But that didn't keep him from possessing an air of confidence about him that made her take a second notice. What was it that made him so cocksure?

"Stay on the bed," his voice boomed. The confidence was communicated to her. She knew he was completely in command of the situation and that it would do her no good to struggle against him.

He was probably stronger than she, but not by much. She could even manage to fight him off if she had to.

His take-command attitude made her want to simply let him have his will. It was almost hypnotic, that manner of his. She was intrigued to see what he would do with her.

Coming to the edge of the bed, he reached down and ran the back of his hand over her cheek.

"So soft. And unbruised. You wouldn't want me to bruise your pretty face, would you?"

"No, what are you going to do to me?"

He straightened a little as if lecturing a class as he said, "I generally torture women like you. The way you squirm is pleasing. I think I'll do that again."

She didn't quite believe that she was simply accepting his word. He was going to torture her. And she wasn't fighting him. The words had such an oddly soothing effect on her.

She winced with pain as he grabbed one wrist and pulled her across the bed. A quick loop and she was tied to one of the bedposts. Her other wrist quickly followed on the opposite bedpost. When he finished with her, she was bound spread-eagle on the bed.

And she hadn't once fought him off. He didn't seem to expect it. She hadn't given him any struggle.

"Now, pain isn't the only way a woman can be tortured, although it is the most common," he continued. Reaching out, he grabbed a handful of the material in her blouse. He ripped the blouse off with three harsh yanks. A pair of scissors took care of the jeans she was wearing.

Bare ass naked, she was tied down to the fur bedspread. Every time she twitched her ass, it tickled. In spite of the man's words, she had to laugh.

"So, you're beginning to understand the method of torture, eh?" He ran his hand over her naked tits. The skin rippled, then became covered with gooseflesh. His stroking over her tits was stimulating and, at the same time, frustrating.

He was promising something he might not deliver.

"Yes, this is part of it. Enjoy the feel of my hands on your skin. I'm enjoying it and you will be begging me soon to stop. I promise you that."

She moaned in pleasure. Let him "torture" her this way all he wanted. She could take it. He was fondling her boobs now. She sighed as he gripped the huge base and slowly worked his way to the nipple cresting the top. Once there, he lightly brushed across the nipple with his fingernail. The hardness contrasted beautifully with the softness of his touch.

Then she shrieked in sudden surprise. His hand had been replaced with a piece of velvet. The fabric pressing into her tits had... what?

Tickled? That wasn't the way it felt. Perhaps she was searching for another word. It wasn't soothing, not like his hands had been. It was more as if the velvet had hurt!

She couldn't believe it but the sensation was the same as if he'd lightly pricked her with a needle. All the fondling and playing with her tits had been for the sole purpose of getting her tits as sensitive as possible. Then he'd brushed the velvet across her nipple.

It was remarkable. And she didn't quite believe it.

" Yes," he said. "It must have given you some small amount of pain. After all, what is pain but the sudden firing of hidden nerves? I fooled your lovely tits into thinking I would do one thing, then did another."

She screamed this time. He'd shoved an ice cube against her crotch. She had been getting progressively wetter as her cunt leaked out its juices, and this sudden cold was totally unexpected.

"See? It is the surprise which gives real flavor to torture. I shall show you all the myriad ways of stimulating a body before I am through."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

He laughed heartily. "It's fun," was his answer.

She shuddered again thinking about the ways he could really torture her. The girl decided she didn't like the prospects one bit. But there was nothing she could do. He had her tied too securely to the bed posts to really put up much of a fight.

She moaned deep in her throat when he began tormenting her with a feather. The soft, downy tendrils worked across her agitated sex lips until she was almost mad with helplessness.

"Stop it! I can't take that much longer!"

And she couldn't. Never had she thought of a feather as a weapon of torture. In this man's hands, it was. He carefully traced around her pussy. Starting at her bush, he went down between her belly and leg until he reached her sex lips. The feather gently moved across her aroused skin until he could tickle and tease her clit.