The Box

THE BOX

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ally hadn't been given much time to recover, one minute she was being dragged up nine flights of stairs with a ball gag in her mouth and her hands cuffed tightly behind her back, the next she was being led into an enormous shower with frosted glass instead of curtains and avocado coloured tiles, by an attractive young woman a few years older than herself with the cutest face she had ever seen, who seemed intent on taking all her clothes off.

By the time she was breathing normally, the shower was running, billows of steam were coming out of it and she was perched on a kind of alcove with her shoes and trousers off and the young woman was, it appeared, taking off all of her clothes as well.

Ally just knew in her heart of hearts that there must be a price to pay for all this but right now she was prepared to pay it gladly.

Suddenly the young woman turned as if remembering that she was there and walked over to her. She had already taken off her shoes, her silk blouse was undone and her jeans were unzipped.

"MMMMM MMMMPH!" The least she could do, Ally surmised, was to take out the gag so they could talk

"Hey!" Her voice was quiet and even a little husky, "I'm Angela – Angie- and we don't have a lot of time. You'll get used to that when The Bishop's around and much as I'd like to chat, I've got to get you ready. Can you stand up?"

"Uh huh." Ally eased herself into a standing position.

"Good! Now keep your hands still." She felt the key entering the lock, she heard the ratchets, felt the cuffs suddenly become loose on her wrists. Felt the freedom and the disappointment.

Despite the fact that she was naked from the waist down and Angie was in a state of partial undress the atmosphere remained business like.

"No don't try to do anything. I'll do it for you. Your hands will be numb, I know the feeling!" And gently and delicately Angie undid her blouse, undid the cuffs, took off her waistcoat followed it with the blouse and then whispered, "Hands behind your back again."

Ally was stunned.

"Huh?"

"S'alright!" Angie patted her cheek. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you, but I'm a little bit of a control freak!" She leant forward and kissed Ally on the cheek, "In the nicest possible way, and I don't get too many opportunities. Especially not with someone like you. Now, hands behind your back, please." Ally sighed. She wasn't a natural submissive. At least she didn't think she was and she could give as good as she got but suddenly everyone wanted to be in control of her.

What the hell!

It wasn't causing her any problems right now, so she put her hands behind her back and tried not to drool through her gag as she felt the ratchets tighten once again and then watched as Angie took off the rest of her clothes and led her into the shower.

*

The Bishop stood next to his lingerie-clad wife and said,

"I'm sorry darling, but that is the most pompous, bigheaded, oversexed prick I have ever met in my entire life!"

"Bish, Bish, it's alright. Just calm down!"

"Well if it's any 'elp," Said a voice to their right, "I don't think he should have called you a brass either, a hooker maybe, but not a brass, I mean he's gotta get his countries right!"

"Yes," Said another voice belonging to a plump fluffy blonde haired woman who was currently rubbing her left hand, "And he had no right to call you a fucking whore!" Further down the line another plump woman said;

"You know, I really cannot believe this. I come out to do a simple night shoot and end up with something like Murder on the Orient Exfuckingspress!" She looked at the assembled crowd. "How many of you actually DID hit him?"

"I was rather hoping your video tapes might be able to tell us that Ms.Fisher." Said a new voice, "I'm Charles Wright, the hotel manager – we've spoken at some length over the phone?"

*

The floor looked slippery but it wasn't, the tiles were spotlessly clean and decalcified regularly. The water looked boiling hot but it wasn't, the outside air was quite cool, causing more steam than was usual. The naked Angie looked far too much for Ally in her present state to handle… and she was.

The moment they entered the shower she produced a blindfold. A thick padded leather blindfold that she buckled in place over Ally's eyes.

"Told you I was a control freak!" She whispered into Ally's ear.

Then Ally felt something against her skin. It had to be some kind of shower gel judging by the smell. With no sight, her imagination ran riot. They were in a forest, under a warm waterfall. There was a smell of pine nuts and trees. She could almost imagine dried leaves scrunching under their bare feet.

And everywhere it went the gel turned to lather and the lather was rubbed in by soft gentle hands. Teasing her. Tempting her. Relaxing her.

Hands on her shoulders, rubbing the gel in, making it lather, covering her in foam.

Hands everywhere.

Hands on her back, tracing her tattoo.

Hands on her arms, stroking downward with the grain of the tiny hairs that formed there.

Hands on her neck.

Hands that felt so very, very good. Taking away the tension. Taking away her cares and worries, such as they were, at that moment.

Hands on her chest. Rubbing lightly against her nipples, cupping her breasts and helping the warm, warm, water to cascade over her.

Cascade over them both. Warming and relaxing like the gentle midday sun.

She was literally in that forest. She could hear animal noises and smell forest smells and she could feel the warmth. The warmth in her body. The warmth in her companion's body. Her lovely naked companion.

And she could feel the warmth somewhere else.

A warm glow. A warm glow somewhere lower than her heart. The small of her back? Her pelvis? Her pussy? Or was it everywhere?

That was probably more like it.

And as the hands roamed lower, so the feelings moved higher. This wasn't just lust. She didn't just want to cum. She wanted to luxuriate in this feeling, in this warm inner glow. In this intense inner light that seemed to be radiating throughout her body.

Her mind was perfectly clear apart from a pure haze of white light and she could feel everything. Absolutely everything. Her whole body, her whole soul, every pore of her skin was alive with feeling. The feeling of soft loving hands and of warm moist lips and it felt as if she was vibrating. It felt as if she were weightless and her whole body was somehow suspended in mid air.

And it started at her toes and spread, as if in slow motion, through her feet and up her legs and into her body.

Her lower body.

Her upper body.

Waves of pure white light, like a tide washing over her incessantly, one wave after the other. Wave after wave of pure unmitigated pleasure. Emanating not from her loins but from somewhere much, much, different.

From her head.

From the centre of her forehead, in fact.

The mystical third eye that eastern religions relied on so much. And she could feel something rising. Rising from the small of her back.

Khundhalini.

The mythical snake or serpent.

The sexual energy held in everyone's spine. And it was rising higher and higher and higher.

And all the time that mouth, that beautiful, gorgeous, mouth, was kissing. Kissing just above her naval. Kissing the third chakra. Kissing and caressing.

She had heard the words "quiet storm" before and never really understood what they meant, but she did now. Still in the forest. Still under the waterfall. Still with the water pouring over her. Unable to speak or see. Unable to participate fully.

All Ally could do was let everything wash over her.

Everything.

She didn't exist. Not in a real sense, not at that precise moment and it was that realisation that took her to the edge and beyond.

The quiet storm!

Raindrops splattering on her body. Thunder in the distance, coming closer and closer and a hot wet feeling between her legs and the thunder was louder and louder and her heart was beating faster and faster and her muscles were beginning to spasm, and the serpent was rising higher and higher and then came the explosion!

The explosion that made her cry out through the gag that stifled her conscious speech.

The explosion that made her come like she had never come before!

*

Being the only person not fully attired, Lady Heather had not been required in the manager's office and neither had the security guard who had sustained minor cuts and bruises and a severely damaged ego.

Phil Bishop looked more than a little drained when he entered suite 1015 followed by a film crew and various hangers on.

"Well? Enquired Lady Heather anxiously. But Phil simply fell into an armchair and lay there looking beaten.

"Well," Said Liz Fisher through gritted teeth, " Thanks to the parts of my video tapes that weren't fogged by some mysterious event earlier in the evening, your husband and his cronies will not be subject to a criminal investigation, because what is left of those tapes show the guard clearly being rude, clearly losing his temper, clearly informing you, Lady Heather, that you are nothing more than, quote, "a highly paid Old Brass", unquote, clearly referring to Ms Hutton as a "Fucking, Ponced Up Old Whore" and then, to add insult to injury, and the cause of all the problems, it clearly shows him, er, hitting the backside of you, Lady Heather and attempting to insinuate his hand into her, er, your, most private parts, as he walked past her without asking if he could look in the shower area!"

She paused for effect and to light a cigarette, which she promptly left in the ashtray.

"The fact that at that point he was then pounced upon by all and sundry is irrelevant. There is no tangible CCTV film of anyone being led gagged around the hotel because the same gremlin that got into my cameras also appears to have dogged the ones in the hotel and the incident with the bogus policewoman had been discussed and allowed by the management in previous discussions. The fact that a film crew were present being enough to encourage people to assume that what was happening was purely for entertainment purposes only!"

Liz picked up the cigarette again, looked at it briefly and returned it to the ashtray.

"The guard has been suspended pending an investigation, we have received a full and unequivocal apology for his unfortunate actions and have been invited to stay for the next two nights or as long as we need to continue our filming at the expense of the hotel!" And here her eyes narrowed and she picked up the cigarette and drew on it long and hard,

"But let me tell you Mr Bishop that I have suffered here today on several counts, most of which I do not intend to go into but if anything else goes wrong, I give you fair warning that Taurus Television will pull out without further consultation, as per clause 17 in our contract!" And with that she left the room.

"Well I don't know about you Bish but I'd call that a definite flounce!" Lady Heather gazed after her for a few seconds and then two pairs of eyes turned slowly towards Linda and Sarah.

The Bishop's grin was almost evil.

"So she suffered did she? And how exactly did she suffer I wonder? And could it possibly have been something to do with what happened earlier?" He turned to a mystified Lady Heather, "Don't worry my love. I'll fill you in later, because I don't think these two will talk without thumbscrews in the foreseeable future!" And then his eyes shifted towards the door. "I wonder where Niles is right now? D'you know he was showing me this very interesting piece of kit that he'd picked up earlier. It's a tiny hand held degausser. Perfect for erasing videotapes. I wonder where he's been all evening?"

TO BE CONTINUED

© Wallace 2003. The writer wishes to be acknowledged as the author of this piece. This story is a work of fiction and bears no resemblance to any events or places, real or imaginary, or to any people living or dead.