Andrea Chambers stretches out across the hotel bed her body writhing from the heavy orgasm that still holds her in throes of ecstasy.
"Fucking hell..." she breathless whispers, her hands pressing firmly up over her exposed breasts, her touch stifled by the brushed steel cuffs that hold her wrists as she traces manicured fingers across the edge of the red leather collar wrapped tightly around her neck, "...I love visiting this City."
I hear her but ignore her, holding my body up over hers as I furiously masturbate as she lays beneath me.
Glancing down at her face directly beneath my waist noting the veneer of sweat that coats her features, her eyes obscured by a blindfold as her mouth parts while she continues to take exhausted deep breaths, she groans in satisfaction, she'd been able to cum because I had not.
Dressed in white satin lingerie with red lace detail a matching suspender belt holds up black stockings that were complimented by black heels she still wore and the black cocktail dress she had been dressed in on my arrival. Alongside of the cuffs that hold her wrists another pair clench tightly to her ankles, I'd bound her deliberately like this, using her to re-enact the same scenario as had played out only three days earlier.
Closing my eyes I concentrate hard as I feel my balls finally tighten, noting the surge of the familiar tell. I keep working my hand swiftly over my length soaked in Andreas heavy climax. I feel myself climax, my shaft fills, and I shudder under the release finally achieved. Holding myself over her I hear little purr beneath me, but it's a sterile unfulfilling climax for myself even as I glance down to see the heavy deposit of ejaculate that soaks into the red silk blindfold and spills across the left-hand side of her face.
Pressing up from the bed immediately I stand over the bed and over her as she lays their chest rising and falling beneath cosmetically enhanced breasts, her body and mind sated by her latest submission. Andrea had regularly succumb to such debauchery since our first introduction via my brother. There had been a three-month gap since that first meeting but now a near monthly WhatsApp message would be received indicating she'd be staying at the now familiar hotel for business the following week, on the day of her arrival around late afternoon a simple three-digit number would follow, her room number. She had never chosen to invite Steve back to the intimate private liaisons, I had never questioned why, I had been grateful for the exclusivity our hook ups with the 43 year old Senior Account Manager provided. It had been two months since our last illicit rendezvous, the double life she led preventing her from visiting having taken a two week Caribbean holiday with her best friends and family.
Leaving her there bound and blindfold across the bed, she offers no protest as I sit fully naked into the bucket chair of the seat in the corner of the otherwise sterile non-descript hotel room. I hear my phone vibrate heavily on the side table once again, just as I'd heard its intrusion several times during Andrea's submission.
The intrusive mobile device was not the reason for my lack of concentration. My mind was fractured and distracted by the events of the previous Saturday evening. The unexpected reacquaintance with Georgie and the subsequent discovery of young Hayley's fate at the hands of my brother, details of which I'd still been unable to ascertain let alone comprehend. I'd called Hayley's phone on repeat into the early hours of Sunday with no response, understanding why when I eventually found the phone lodged into the breast pocket of the denim jacket she'd left, such must have been the haste of her departure. The fact she had made no attempt to retrieve the device normally found in hand as she furiously typed out message after message, or captured image upon image for Instagram concerned, and offered unconfirmed sign of the brutality she had likely encountered, I needed to reach out to her somehow. I had no idea how to.
In truth I should not have come here tonight I should have made my excuses, I would have been letting no one down. There was no expectation from Andrea our sordid meets were born of mutual carnal benefit and nothing else. The fact that I'd restrained her and used her submission in the same manner as I had Georgie during the illicit, highly charged and unexpected encounter of the weekend prior spoke volumes, Andrea despite her willing had proven to be an unsatisfactory substitute.
The phone vibrates again, glancing towards it I note the reflection of the illuminated screen as it sits face down on the glass topped vanity table.
The illumination does not have time to fade before I snatch the device and turn it over in my hand. The bright screen in stark contrast to the dim light of the hotel room, the only light of which comes from a freestanding uplighter style lamp in the corner of the room.
As my eyes slowly adjust I note five missed calls in the last thirty minutes all attributed to Steve, the notifications sit on the front screen alongside of a further four WhatsApp notifications. Tapping my finger on the screen, the phone reacts and unlocks on facial recognition.
My blood freezes in my veins at the most recent message, my eyes barely take in the content of the previous messages.
I read the two short words once again recognising the hidden meaning to the message. A code agreed between us to underline urgency or emergency. My eyes flash to the top corner of the screen noting it's coming up to a little before midnight. The bar would have closed up a little over half an hour ago, give it take, seeing as it was a Tuesday night.
I'm on my feet before I know it, hurriedly pulling on clothing discarded in haste when I'd entered this room shortly after half past ten.
Pulling on the door handle I leave her, Andrea, restrained on the bed just as I leave the hold-all of restraints sat on the vanity table to the left of where my phone had sat.
I hear Andrea quietly call out my name as the door softly closes behind me, not even certain I hear the door latch as I hurry along the well-lit corridor of the fourth floor of the hotel.
I figure it's a little over 5 minutes at pace to O'Leary's as I break into a run, taking the stairs over waiting for an elevator.
My mind lurching now on the horrendous possibilities, the consequence that the two words in Steve messages imply. Two code words to imply danger.
'Red Flag'
**********
Heading into the bar, my heart pounds in my chest as I take a moment to appraise the situation the bar was quiet, eerily quiet.
I'd almost expected emergency service vehicles outside, on arrival.
My sense of foreboding increasing though, as I turn the corner and pass the glass brick partitioned wall as I head towards the bar.
He stands there before me, unharmed unflustered, the only mark across his face the still swollen purple and yellow laced bruise sat beneath his left eye from the punch I'd landed in the early hours of Sunday morning.
"Take your time..." he offers on the sardonic grin I instantly know can only mean one thing, "...it's rude to keep visitors waiting."
"You messaged Red Flag" I seethe.
"I meant red hair," Steve offers childishly, stepping aside to reveal her to me, she knelt behind him facing me her head bowed, I feel the stir immediately, the burn of desire despite my still raging anger with my Brother.
Placing her in her early twenties, her loose layered hair sits to her shoulder, dyed a vivid letter-box red. Her slender frame is covered by a fitted black leather biker jacket unzipped to reveal nothing but a bright red bra underneath, a black mid-thigh leather skirt sits atop red fishnets, the same colour as her bra and therefore as close a match to her vivid hair as possible. Visually she is stunning.
Her wrists are held behind her back, I assume gripped by cuffs or rope and several thick layers of tape sit across her jaw. As I continue to cast my eye over her I can't help note that dyed haired girl's appearance is slightly dishevelled. My mind immediately dwelling on how easily, or not, Steve achieved the submission she now makes knelt there apparently of her own free will despite the minimal but effective restraint.
"You know full well what that message implied," I offer on a cold tone of voice.
"You weren't fucking answering...." Stevie barely restrains himself from snapping at me, somehow he was the one annoyed with me, "...I had to get your attention... let you know I got you a peace offering."
Even as he speaks I step continue to step purposefully forward, my eye line drawn away from Steve back to her as she kneels now directly before me. My burning rage at Steve's I appreciate now successful ruse to lure me here under false pretence fast fading with every passing second. His mention of a peace offering an indirect notification of the fact he knows he's offended me, not least given we haven't spoken in days.
"As offerings go... she's not unappealing... what's her name?"
"We'll here's the thing...." Steve states as I look to the contents of a black wallet spread across the bar, "...there's three different forms of ID there... each with a different fucking name... there's one common theme... think we can assume she's called Chloe."
"Chloe," I offer looking down at the bright red-haired girl as she tilts her head back to look up at me with narrowed eyes framed by dark eyeliner.
"She came in early doors and proceeded to knock back every straight bourbon, vodka and tequila shot put before her... that she could even stand let alone be functional is fairly impressive."
"You seem to have been able to take full advantage." I smirk.
"With limited resources..." Steve sarcastically offers, "...where's the holdall?"
"Fuck..." I shake my head, thinking to bag of restraints left in my haste in the hotel room alongside of the prone bound body of Andrea, I raise a brow to my Brother, "...like I said I was busy."
"Extracurricular activity?" Steve raises an eyebrow "Should I be offended?"
I don't answer, I don't want to give him the satisfaction I'd rather he dwells on the possibilities rather than have the facts to handle in respect to the semi-regular hotel consensual trysts played out between myself and the married businesswoman.
"We've got tape..." my eyes glance from Chloe's gagged mouth to the roll of silver reflective duct tape sat on the bar next to two empty glasses. "...let's go old school."
