This story follows on from 'Hazel Plays With Fire.' It can be read as a one-off but for the full package read the previous Hazel stories and for the back-stories of many of the US characters read my stories about Jessica, Georgia and Dee. Some Hazel stories contain some dark themes so heed the warnings if that offends you. My thanks to Stephan_Ray for the idea for a certain little speech.
The young woman shifted uneasily. She felt the cool of the flooring under her naked feet. The feeling more intense for the blind-fold efficiently cutting out her sense of sight. Hands gently took her by her arms and led her forward to a pre-ordained spot.
"Sit." The softly-spoken word was joined by gentle pressure pushing her backwards. She sat back and felt padding beneath her. Her legs were swung onto a similarly padded surface and then she was once more gently eased back so that she lay down. The hands took her arms and moved them to lie on more padded backing.
This was the moment at which she first heard the clink of metal. A sound that sent a rush of feelings through her, that made the breath catch in her throat. As she lay there a hand had held her arm in place while another had pulled a leather cuff around her wrist. That was the moment at which she had heard the clink of metal on metal. The sound of a padlock being fitted and secured.
The woman gently tried to move her arm away. She was not surprised when it proved impossible. She was no more surprised when a fleeting moment later the same procedure happened to her other arm. Then she felt material on her arms and heard other sounds. She knew what was happening even though she could not see it. She knew the gentle swish and creak of leather straps and the clink of metal buckles. Now she realised that she could not move her arms at all. The sequins on her skimpy bikini top sparkled in the lights as her chest rose and fell rapidly. She knew that she was in their power now - she knew it and thrilled to her helplessness. She could kick out at them but how could she do that when she could not see them?
A few moments later she understood the pointlessness of such thoughts. She felt the hands move to her ankles, the same process of application of cuff and padlock. At the second clink she knew that she was theirs to use as they willed. She knew it and released a long shuddering breath. It was settled now and she could not resist - not that she had ever had any intention to but the knowledge was thrilling.
She felt the material and heard the buckles on her legs from the ankle to the upper thigh. Now she could hardly move and now they left her. She waited there with her ears straining to hear any indication of their return. Would they return? She didn't know who had secured her and she didn't know who would come next. The wait seemed endless but was perhaps only a few minutes.
Then, suddenly, she sensed them. Not by sound as she had expected but rather by smell. She smelled the scent of burning tobacco and even as she recognised it the silence was shattered by a crescendo of noise. The noise of drums, not a drum kit but the drums that were played by hand in Africa or the Caribbean. The percussive rhythmic patterns produced by masters of that instrument. She felt the air move and smelt the tobacco stronger. She knew there were others there with her now.
The first touch was gentle but her senses were worked up to such a pitch that her body wanted to react by leaping away. It could not of course, she was strapped so firmly that she could hardly move at all. She could only shift her head from side to side and that was futile. The blindfold had been applied expertly so that no light penetrated and she could not work it loose.
The touch was joined by fellows, groups of five running gently across her exposed and vulnerable skin. She knew what they were. The tips of fingers exploring her body. She gasped and shuddered, her senses once more on edge for each unheralded series of touches and gentle caresses.
Following on came a new experience - warm and wet. Running along the sides of her arms and legs, then along her exposed belly. She shivered and shuddered under the sensation, her helplessness and her inability to determine where the next contact would come from.
She felt pressure on her bikini top and a feeling of cold metal before the pressure was immediately released, the material lifted away from her breasts. She knew the garment had been cut, with scissors or perhaps a knife. The cool air contacted on new areas of her flesh and set her hard nipples tingling. The wet warmth descended there, exploiting her sensitivity. Strong tongues toyed with her, sharp teeth gently nipped her. She could not help but moan, to express some of the onrushing feelings taking possession of her.
Her breathing was coming fast now as her brain rushed to assimilate every new sensation. She knew they were observing her, knew they were learning how to play her exposed and vulnerable body like a fine musical instrument. They had learned and now they would reward her or exploit her or both. She could only move enough to register the impact their attentions were having on her, not nearly enough to escape them. She knew that and they knew that. She was theirs to enjoy as they wished.
Again she moaned, this time long and resonant. Another release of the ever growing pressure, the desire for more. Hot breath was in her ear now and she expected to hear words. Instead there was again the warm wetness of a tongue and now she tried to move, to escape the teasing tickling sensations. There was no escape, the questing tongue pursued her accompanied by a light feminine giggle.
At the same moment the warm mouth left her right breast and instead teasing fingers began to gently tug and to squeeze both of her nipples. She gasped and writhed finding that once she had moved her body only demanded that she continue. A second giggle came from in front of her and now fingers were teasing and tickling her ribs.
"No please - please stop," she gasped out the words as she began to struggle for air. Her eyes were watering behind the blindfold. Her whole body felt tense, at a peak, unable to relax so that her lungs could suck in air. Suddenly a mouth was pushed against hers, a strong tongue exploring as she still sought for breath.
"Are you ready?" At last she heard one of her exploiters speak. A gentle honeyed mocking tone, a tone of pure femininity. She had guessed that much. Only a woman knew how to please and push another woman as these two had.
Again the mocking little laugh. Then she felt fingers at her hips and moving to her bikini bottom, the tiny strip of material which was now her only clothing. Once more she felt the material taut on her body and then the cold of a metal blade. She gasped but now tried to hold still. There was no escape from this even if she desired it. She was theirs to enjoy and she already knew that they were experienced and skilled in such matters.
She heard a slight tear as the last of the material gave way. The bikini bottom was pulled off and she was left exposed to them. She knew what would come next or she thought that she did.
Instead she felt hands move by her head and her blindfold was torn way. After so long in darkness the light was positively blinding. She could see someone between her legs, a mouth lowering onto her pussy and she felt her heart almost stop because all she could see was a skull. She gave out a half-stifled scream and then another skull-face was looking straight down at her as her second tormentor leaned over to place her face before the captive's.
The skull's mouth opened in a joyous laugh and she saw the pink living tongue beneath even as her eyes adjusted to the light. She saw the thick dark and white greasepaint that covered the other woman's face, its positioning matching the patterns of bone and shadow shown by a skull. She also saw the long blonde hair spilling out from under the woman's hat and over the shoulders of her black jacket.