La Tormenta

It was the day the storm came to Puerto Preto. Luisa's grandmother, Señora Maria-Luisa Llobet de Rodriguez, dressed in black, pressed her ample weight against the window frame on the second floor of No.5 Calle Manjon and fanned herself with her grandson's hat. She sucked in a breath of air and watched a stray dog drag its weary body along the pavement below. Supporting her fleshy hands against the sill, Señora Rodriguez leaned forward and looked down the narrow street towards the harbour. Beyond, at the distant horizon, a line of angry crests broke the surface of an indigo sea. Above the crests, impatient leaden clouds prepared to invade the town.

The dog, abandoning its search for shade, slumped in the doorway of No 6 across the street. Señora Rodriguez looked up to the open window on the second floor. She shook her head. How could Luisa not know the storm was on its way? How is she going to manage when she goes off to a strange country? With another shake of her head, Señora Rodriguez stepped back into the shadows pulling the dust-green shutters against the frame of her window.

Across the street, Luisa waited until her grandmother had disappeared back inside then moved over to her own window - not to view the approaching storm, but to inspect the mark at the front of her dress. Today was the day of Mercè's visit and the morning had been such a rush. Not only had she to clean and tidy the place, but preparations had to be made: the change in the weather was the last thing on Luisa's mind.

She scratched at the front of her dress and frowned at the stain. Behind her, there were some alterations she had made to the room; the dining table had been dragged across the tiles to the far corner, and a straight-backed chair took its place in the centre of the room. For the past twenty minutes, Mercedes Lorca had been positioned in this chair where she remained, gagged and bound naked. The rope had been passed many times around her upper arms and chest and pulled so tight it cut deep into her skin.

Luisa moved from the window to inspect the knots. Not exactly in the style of Kinbaku, she thought, but they looked secure enough. And, anyway, Mercè was hardly in a position to notice. Her eyes were once again drawn to the mark at the front of her dress. She moved back to the window to take another look. It was only a small mark; hardly a spot, just above the dragon's tail. Again, she scratched at it. It was a stain all right; embedded in the silk and just wouldn't come away. But was it there when she took the dress down? She couldn't be sure. It was a beautiful dress; pure Chinese silk Aunt Nee Sin said, a wedding gift from her employers in Shanghai. Luisa shrugged. Oh well, her aunt hadn't worn it for years and, once back in the wardrobe, it'll probably remain there for a few years to come. She pulled one shutter across to the window frame. There was a sound from the centre of the room. She looked over to the girl in the chair. "What are you staring at?"

Mercè lowered her head.

Luisa marched across the room, heels echoing across the blue and white tiles. However, before reaching the chair, she spun around and took up position on the sofa. From here she could study the girl; the glow of her burning cheeks, the bead of sweat which now trickled down the side of her face. How she loved to see Mercè like this - so taken in by each devious action, so enraptured by every promising threat.

Luisa reminded herself to stick to the plan.

"Now, where was I?" she said. "Oh yes, last night. You think I don't have better things to do than hang out with you?" Luisa spoke with an even tone, without expression. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

The girl raised her eyes from the floor. The room was still, the air thick, heavy with the approaching storm.

"Well, let me make this quite clear, you little whore, I have no intention of giving up any of my friends for you." She traced the outline of the stain at the front of her dress."Do you honestly believe that I could possibly be satisfied by you alone?"

Mercè shook her head.

"Take Pablo for instance. Now there's someone who knows how to please a woman."

The room darkened and the first distant crack of thunder sounded across the bay.

"Do you want me to tell you about it?" Luisa crossed her legs. The gentle swish of stockings against the silk of her dress caught the girl's attention, her eyes fixed on the soft flesh exposed along the slit at the side.

Luisa leaned forward and spoke with a soft tone. "Would you like me to take that horrid thing away from your mouth, darling?"

Mercè nodded.

"Well, only if you promise to be quiet until I've finished." Luisa waited for a response. "Do you promise?"

Again, the girl nodded.

She moved to the chair and rested the girl's head against her tummy as she loosened the strap.

A sheet of blue light flickered through the shutter and illuminated the photos on the far wall. Luisa abandoned the girl and went over to the picture of the family group. She hadn't noticed this one before; a wedding photograph. She studied each face in turn and recognised the features of her mother and father. At the centre of the group stood her Uncle Carlos and the small figure of Aunt Nee Sin - the couple must have got married here soon after they returned from Beijing.

"Don't leave me here." The plea came from the girl in the chair. Her words were followed by a ripping sound, gentle at first, then rising to a crescendo as it tore across the bay.

Luisa turned from the picture and marched across the tiles towards her.

Mercè flinched, her cheek reddening from the slap.

"Don't you ever break a promise to me, do you hear?"

"Yes," the girl whispered, tears filling her pretty hazel eyes.

Luisa moved in close and grasped her hair. "Yes what?" she growled.

"Yes Mistress."

"You stupid... little... bitch." tugging her head with each syllable. "I'll tell you when I want you to speak."

"Sorry - sorry Mistress."

"That's better." Luisa let go. "You do understand that, don't you?" she said, softening the words.

Mercè nodded.

Returning to the couch, Luisa reached into her bag and took out the dildo (the one with head straps and a gag at the base like a tangerine), then ordered Mercè to watch. She turned to kneel at the edge of the sofa and, taking her time, pulled up the hem of her dress to expose her naked bottom. Fixing her eyes on the girl, Luisa raised her bottom and teased the phallus along the dark furrow between her legs.

"This was how it was with Pablo last night. He was fantastic. It was so wonderful to have a man inside me." She separated the folds of soft flesh and eased the head of the dildo into her vagina. "Think about it, Mercè. You're just a useless girl. How could you ever do this for me?" Luisa pulled out. "Of course, I could strap this to your pretty face - but it's not the same as the real thing." She got up from the couch and sauntered to the chair, grasped the girl by the hair and pulled her head back. "Now, you know I like to share all this with you, don't you."

Holding the tip of the dildo against the girl's tight lips, she moved close to her ear. "Open your mouth, you little whore," she whispered.

Mercè let her jaw drop.

How it thrilled Luisa to brush the dildo along her parted lips, to tantalise, to play and tease, then, whenever the whim takes her, to force the whole thing deep into her mouth. No matter how many times they had played this game, it always excited Luisa to see her lover like this; naked, feeble, powerless against all forms of abuse. She was charged with the thrill of it all.

She removed the dildo and took it to the table. When she returned, she stood behind the chair and ran her fingers along the back of the girl's neck, across the curve of her shoulders - so sweet, so vulnerable. She untied the rope and ordered her to stand. "Well, my darling. Are you pleased to see me again?"

Mercè didn't reply.

She lifted her hand to the girl's breasts. Taking a nipple between her thumb and finger, she watched the girl's face as she began to squeeze. "Well?"

Mercè flinched. Her eyes opened wide. "Oh, yes! Yes Mistress, I am pleased!"

She pointed to the floor. "On your knees, bitch!"

The girl dropped to the tiles, spread her knees and lowered her bottom to rest between her ankles. Clasping her hands behind her back, she brought her elbows together and presented her breasts in a well-rehearsed pose.

But Luisa had something else in mind. She went to the sofa and picked up her bag, puzzled as she rummaged through the contents. She was sure she'd put the thing there before Mercè arrived. Was she in such a rush she'd forgotten to bring it? Damn!

Giving up with the bag she searched every corner of the room. In the end she had to admit defeat. Then she had an idea. She slipped out of her shoes, contemplated her friend for a moment and raised a finger in warning. "Stay!" she ordered.

She headed through the door and skipped down the stairs to the kitchen. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dark, Luisa searched every cupboard and drawer in the place. It's got to be somewhere down here, she thought. She'd seen Uncle Carlos take Perrobruno for a walk every evening for the past two years and he always brought the dog back through the kitchen - it just had to be here somewhere. She pulled open the door of a wall unit and was treated to an unexpected surprise: sitting discretely between a coffee jar and a paella dish was a large unopened bar of La Vaca Sueno milk chocolate. Luisa tore off the wrapper and took the first bite. She was entranced; the taste of cream and bitter cocoa held her in a spell. The search out of mind, she crouched on the floor and broke off another piece. She wondered if this would be the last time she would see Mercè before leaving for England.

Two weeks had gone by since they both graduated from El Pulso Academia. As soon as Luisa returned to her family home she received a message from her agent to inform her of a call for English speaking actors. If her family hadn't pushed her to audition, she might have been be able to see Mercè more often over the next few months. But it was not to be. This would be her first time away from Spain (apart from a family holiday in Mallorca) and, if she hadn't won those language prizes at school the idea of working abroad wouldn't have come up. How she envied Mercè's confidence. If only she was more like her, then she would be able to organise things better. Where is Surrey anyway? She'd never heard of the place. With auditions to take place in three weeks this may be her only chance to invite Mercè to Puerto Preto - in fact this is the only time in two years they'd met anywhere other than her student lodgings in Valencia. At least, if she does get accepted, she can then find a place in England where Mercè could come and stay. Has Mercè ever travelled abroad before? She was sure she hasn't. Perhaps she should put the idea to her today? If only they had more time.

On the upper floor Mercè moved out of her submissive pose. She watched the door and listened for footsteps - at last, the opportunity she had been waiting for. Without hesitation, she leaped to her feet and scurried across the floor to where her clothes had been discarded. Dipping her hand into the front pocket of her jeans she pulled out a lighter and a packet of cigarettes. At the window she eased the shutter open with her index finger hoping the sound wouldn't be heard downstairs. One glance through the gap and she ducked out of sight - an old woman was staring from her window across the street. She sank her naked bottom to the tiles and rested her back against the cool plaster, exhaled a stream of smoke through the opening above her head and looked around the room. When she arrived earlier that afternoon she was surprised at the fittings; old, dark furniture (the sort of junk rich people like to collect) - not the contemporary style Luisa had described. Still, certainly better than the room she had to share with her sister at home in Valencia. She wondered what will happen to the house when Luisa goes to England. Perhaps she could suggest she could look after the place for her while she's away. Just imagine what Mama would say if she set herself up in a place like this. She wondered what the rest of the house was like. The only other room she'd seen was the kitchen. Luisa had brought her straight up to this room and, for some reason, didn't seem to want to show her around her home. Just think, she could invite all her friends down from Valencia - she'd have to get rid of some of this old furniture before she did that though. How come Luisa hadn't said how big the place was? (Probably nothing to her).

They'd been together for nearly two years now; enrolled on the same course at the Academy and became friends from the start. Luisa's life was so different to her own. She'd travelled all over the world; South America, USA, China, even places Mercè had never heard of before. She could speak other languages too, even owned her own house - definitely the only girl at college worth bothering about. Yet, despite all this, Luisa seemed to be at a loss - didn't know where she was going in her life. It didn't take much to win her over and it wasn't long before they became lovers. It was during their second term that Mercè discovered they had an interest in common. It happened one Friday evening when Luisa's flatmate was away visiting her family in Toledo. At Mercè's suggestion they rented a movie; an erotic film based on the Story of O. That weekend they discovered how exciting it was to act out the roles in the film. And, from then on, they took every opportunity to play their new game. Luisa was a brilliant actress - one of the best at the academy - and the ideas she had for their games never failed to excite Mercè.

She took another draw from her cigarette and looked towards the door where her friend had disappeared. It was cooler now. At the other end of the room, the edge of the white lace tablecloth moved with a gentle breeze from the window. She could hear the first drops of rain land on the broad leaves of the fig tree she had seen in the garden below. Luisa had spoken many times of the house she'd inherited after the tragic loss of her uncle - and yet, despite all the hints, this was the first time she had been asked to come and visit. How long did she want her to stay? She didn't say - just phoned that morning to see if she wanted to come down. Anyway, where had she disappeared to now? Just like her to break the mood.

Squatting on the floor of the kitchen, Luisa stared at the empty wrapper in her hand. It was only then she remembered her mission. She screwed up the paper and tossed it towards the door which led out to the back garden. And that's when she saw it: the dog's collar and lead hanging from a hook on the back of the door. And, would you believe it, poking out of one of her uncle's boots, was his riding crop. Luisa picked up Perrobruno's empty bowl and, along with the other items, bounded back up the stairs to join Mercè. At the top step she paused to compose herself.

It was as Mercè was taking the last draw from her cigarette she heard footsteps on the stairs. She exhaled and flicked the butt through the window into the street below. She scuttled to the centre of the room and arranged herself in position just as her mistress entered the room. With her head lowered she could just see Luisa out of the corner of her eye. She watched her slip back into her shoes and give a glance towards the open shutter - she was sure she'd say something but she didn't - instead, she came over, fixed a collar around Mercè's neck and attached a lead.

"Heel!"

With a gentle tap of the crop on her bare buttocks Mercè leaped up and was led across the stone tiles. When they reached the far end of the room she was brought to a halt. Holding out a plastic bag, her mistress shook out the contents and a small pair of cotton briefs fell to the floor. With the toe of her shoe Luisa flicked the garment across the room.

"Fetch!"

Like an obedient dog, Mercè bounded across the floor and recognised the garment as the pretty cotton panties she had bought for Luisa last term. She froze. What was this! She took a closer look. The material was soiled with a thick deposit of what could only be a man's semen.

"You see how generous I am?" Luisa said. "I thought you might like to share a little of last night with me."

Mercè was reluctant to move any closer. My God! Is she serious? It was one thing to humiliate her with the story of being unfaithful, but this was something else.

Another sheet of bright light flickered across the room. The crop swished and came down hard onto her bottom.

"Pick them up, bitch!"

A deafening crack of thunder tore through the sky as Mercè received another generous swipe to the back of her thighs. She took the saturated panties between her teeth and raised her head, the stench of a man's cum filling her nostrils. Mercè retched. She felt as if she was about to puke.

"Good girl." Her Mistress patted her head. "Now, walk!"

Urged by an occasional tap with the crop on her backside, the soiled briefs dangling from her mouth, Mercè was led in a wide circle around the room. A further two laps and a gentle tug brought her to a halt.

"Drop!"

Mercè, relieved to get rid of the thing, shook the briefs from her mouth. Her mistress pointed her crop at her shoe; a droplet of sperm had landed on the toe.

"Lick that off, you disgusting little slut!"

She crouched forward, held her breath and licked. With a bout of coughing she managed to spit the filth out onto the tiles. She returned to the shoe and licked until the leather shone, raised her head and waited.

Luisa reached down and, between finger and thumb, picked up the garment. Mercè was ordered to bend down and press her forehead to the floor. The cool leather of her mistress's shoe rested against the back of her neck, the heel pressing into her skin. Mercè flinched; not with the pain from the heel, but of what was happening lower down - a finger was inserted into her anus. But not just a finger: when it was pulled out Mercè could feel the sodden panties limp and cold against the bare flesh of her thigh.

"Stand up!"

She clambered to her feet. The rain was heavier now.

"Now let's see you swish that tail."

She received a sharp tap on her bottom and was ordered to circle the room. With the order to trot she broke into a run, the panties slapping against her thighs as she lifted her knees high. Well, at least this was bearable, better than having them in her mouth.

The heavens opened; a barrage of rain battered the rooftops and street below.

"Keep those knees up!" Luisa shouted, giving her another couple of swipes with the crop.

Thunder and lightening ripped through the sky as Mercè, barefoot, continued to exercise around the room. She was brought to a sudden halt. Face flushed with excitement, she waited for the next command.

The room was still. For a moment the deluge had ceased.

"God, you look so stupid. What do you think you're trying to be? Take that thing out of your arse, you silly girl."

Mercè looked down to the floor. Well, yes. Maybe she was getting a bit carried away. The blood rushed to her cheeks as she reached behind and unplugged the cotton briefs from her anus. She looked up. Luisa had her back to her. She was looking over her shoulder.

"Now bring them over here and help me put them on!" she said, holding the hem of her dress to her waist.

Dropping to her knees, Mercè opened the waistband of the briefs for her mistress to step into. She pulled them over her thighs and, taking care not to touch them too much, she arranged them over Luisa's bottom.