Copyright 2000 by Kelli Maginnis. All rights reserved. This material maybe not be reprinted or posted on any other internet site without the expressed written consent of the author.
*
Hope rose within him even as he closed his eyes tightly to block the searing white light. Perhaps it was searchlights from a rescue team called in by his wife when he was overdue returning home, he thought. He strained to open his eyes just a crack in order to see what he hoped would be the blessed sight of badges, guns and police uniforms rushing to his rescue.
At first he could see nothing but the light, brilliant, blinding, lighting everything but obscuring all. Slowly, his irises closed down to adjust to it. He thought he could see a single dark silhouette moving through the entrance. As the back-lighted, dark form moved through the entrance, a set of bright ceiling floodlights came on illuminating the path from the entrance to his bondage table.
He watched the dark form step inside the entrance and stop. The mirrored wall behind it slowly slid back to its original position, blocking the brilliant white light coming from the opening. With the light behind the form now blocked and floodlights illuminating the form from above and in front, Harry could, for the first time, see what the form was and he was completely stunned by what he saw. It was not the police rushing to his rescue as he had hoped. Instead, it appeared to be a single female, dressed in a brilliant, glossy, white satin, full length dressing gown.
The clicking sound of her high-heeled shoes reverberated off the dungeon's stone walls, ceiling and floor as she approached the table.
Harry took a deep breath, holding it in stunned silence as the figure approached. Looking up at the ceiling mirror, he was able to make out more details as she came closer. She was blonde, platinum blonde, her white hair shining in the light, refracting some of the white light to create a halo of colors around her hair. Her hair was piled high on her head in a series of swirls, adding several inches to the lanky form already raised by the high-heeled shoes. He tried to focus on her face to make out its features but he could see little; she was wearing a white half-mask over her eyes and the top of her nose.
Even with the mask, he could make out that she was young, her cheeks and throat completely smooth and unblemished. She had the angular jaw and pointed chin of a classically beautiful woman and she walked with the confidence of a woman who knew just how attractive she was. As she got closer, he could make out the deep red color of her full lips; the only slash of color on the brilliant white figure except for the matching blood red fingernails.
Harry was breathing in fits and starts as he fought to keep his torso still to minimize the pain in his nipples and genitals. Even remaining perfectly still, they throbbed in constant pain and his ass cheeks burned mightily from the thrashing administered by Dr. Jansen and My Ling.
The reflected light from her satin gown sparkled as she approached the foot of the table and took a long look at Harry, eying him from head to toe as she stood erect and peered down at him. She leaned over and flicked his tightly bound balls with her forefinger to check his reaction and seemed satisfied when he flinched and gasped.
She smiled, brilliant white teeth showing for the first time, creasing her otherwise smooth skin. Dr. Jansen came up to greet her, taking her in her arms and hugging her tightly as she kissed her on the side of her neck, murmuring something in her ear before she straightened back up.
Shanella, Madison and My Ling, each, in their turn, greeted the brilliant white figure with a tight hug, a kiss and a few whispered words. Of the three, only My Ling followed up the kiss on the side of her neck with a long, passionate kiss on her lips, opening her mouth to let the white figure's long, pink tongue snake in and around her oral cavity.
My Ling cupped the woman's breasts through the rich satin cloth of the gown and slowly rubbed her nipples lightly with her thumbs in small, circular motions. The white figure cupped My Ling's jaw with her hands as she held her gently but firmly and kissed her.
Harry looked away as the two women embraced, not wanting to be caught "peeping" and suffer the same horrible consequences as the last time. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best, but was fairly certain that the appearance of this brilliant, white figure was not good news for him. He had the gnawing feeling that all that had gone on before was merely a prelude, a warm-up for what was to come next. He thought that in some fashion, he was being prepared for her.
His mind raced, searching for a way out of the trap. Perhaps the white figure would help. Perhaps she came in to stop the torture, he thought, as his mind grasped at any hope, any possibility of escape. But who was she?
The white figure continued her slow walk, moving along the left side of the table, left arm extended to touch and feel the tightly bound legs and torso of the prostrate man. She patted him a few times and smiled, shaking her head slightly in bemusement at the sight. She stopped when she was alongside his left ear and ran her fingertips along his jaw line and ear, circling back to trace the outline of his widely stretched lips.
Harry remained perfectly still, using all of his senses to try and solve the mystery of who she was and what her intentions might be. Something, the way she moved, the way she swung her arms as she walked seemed somehow familiar, as though he had seen it before.
Harry continued to breathe deeply through his nose, exhaling through his open mouth in great gusts. As she stood near him and lightly stroked his face, he caught the slightest whiff of her aroused scent, particularly when she turned to face him, satin covered groin just inches from his face. It also seemed oddly familiar.
Perhaps it was one of the many women he had bedded in his long and sexually busy life. In the bright light, he could not make out her eye color until she bent down to take a close look at him. The eyes were a deep, emerald green with small flecks of yellow around the irises.
No, . . . It's impossible, . . . . Couldn't be, he thought.
The white figure bent lower and put her lips to his left ear, brushing his ear lobe with her soft lips and tickling the small hairs in his ear canal with her warm breath. She waited, pausing for effect, before whispering.
"It's my time now Harry, dearest," the final term of endearment spoken with obvious sarcasm.
Oh God!!! Oh God!!!! No, . . . No, . . . Nooooooo!!!! his mind screamed.