Indecent Intent Read online

  ‘And I have Gabrielle,’ Marshall Verity confirmed. ‘She is mine to use as I wish. Her body, especially, is mine.’ His hand rested possessively on her bare forearm. He stood beside her, looking intently at Tom, safe in the knowledge that his offer would be accept.

  ‘And you will give me two million dollars?’ He was looking at Verity again, the deal being struck around Gabrielle, her input not asked for and not wanted – her feelings bypassed.

  Verity’s hand moved and his arm slipped around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him in a symbolic gesture of ownership. He was closing the deal. Even if Tom wanted to decline the proposal, it was now too late. Verity knew that, Tom knew that, and Gabrielle knew that.

  She hung her head again.

  ‘So, it is agreed,’ Verity said, concluding the transaction, and despite her closeness to him, Gabrielle stood alone, belonging for a moment to neither man. She had never felt more lonely in her young life.

  ‘She is mine… for a year.’

  She noticed how the man paused for a brief moment before confirming the timescale of the arrangement, emphasizing it, and an ominous shiver ran down her spine.

  ‘I’ll arrange the money for you immediately.’ Then, as if to stress the rules of the deal, his hand slipped down from her shoulder and cupped her breast through the soft black silk of her dress. He stared directly at Tom, and his hand began to move in slow circles over the firm orb.

  Tom rocked forward a fraction, as if to protect his wife, but then realization dawned.

  She was no longer his.

  Gabrielle closed her eyes in a childishly futile attempt to hide away from the dreadful scenario, and her cheeks flushed pink.

  ‘It’s a little late for coy poses, my dear,’ said Verity. ‘Too late for false modesties, particularly when we’ve all seen your deepest desires, your basest instincts.’

  He looked at Tom, disdain suddenly evident on his face. ‘You may go now,’ he said, arrogantly dismissing him, his hand still mauling her breast. ‘And just to clarify, for the duration of your stay here which, I suspect, will be a short one, if you see your wife you may not talk to her, and you may not, under any circumstances, touch her. Do I make myself clear? You’ve given up ownership of your wife. You’ve hired her out to me.’

  Tom looked forlornly at her, as though at last realizing the full import of what he had agreed to, and then turned and left the luxurious suite.

  Gabrielle watched the door close quietly behind him, her vision blurred with tears.

  Chapter Four

  The following morning, after a night spent alone in one of the suite’s luxurious bedrooms, Gabrielle was taken by Marshall Verity and Susan in a luxurious limo to some kind of a private health club.

  It was a beautifully sunny morning.

  In the plush reception area Verity stopped to talk to an austere man whom he seemed to know very well, and Susan, reacting to his silently nodded instruction, led Gabrielle along a corridor, hushed with expensive fitted carpets and maple-paneled walls, to a private room.

  It was small, but as clean and sterile as any operating theatre. The walls were white, as were the cupboards and shelves that lined them, and in the centre of the tiled floor was a black medical chair. The sight of it made Gabrielle shudder. Metal stirrups rose from the lower corners of it, and leather straps dangled ominously from the arms and headrest.

  ‘Take off your clothes,’ said Susan, interrupting the overbearingly hushed atmosphere of the room, and despite her reservations and despite wondering why on earth she was there, Gabrielle, with trembling fingers, felt utterly compelled to obey. ‘Take them all off, your underwear too,’ Susan qualified the order.

  And then the reason for the visit seeped slowly into Gabrielle’s thinking, and she knew what was to come. Verity liked his girls to be hairless, and she was to be shaved smooth. Well, she could live with that.

  ‘H-how long have you been here?’ she ventured to ask, as she dropped her T-shirt on an available chair and began to twist her hips to help ease her tight jeans down.

  Susan shrugged and Gabrielle heard the clatter of metal from the surgical cart beside which she stood making preparations. The noise made Gabrielle shudder, and she hoped Susan’s hands were steady.

  ‘Don’t you know?’ she persisted. ‘Don’t you know how long you’ve lived with Mr Verity?’ she kicked her shoes off and her bare feet felt chilled by the tiled floor as the jeans joined the T-shirt, and then her bra joined them, on the chair.

  ‘We don’t ask questions,’ Susan said, ‘we are done to. It is our duty to do no more than what we are ordered to do.’ She moved to the chair and patted it in invitation. ‘Sit here,’ she continued, ‘and place your legs in the stirrups.’

  Gabrielle, determined to be obedient and brave, sensing it would help her time under the ownership of Marshall Verity, did as she was told and slipped elegantly onto the chair, and then lifted her ankles into the stirrups. Susan strapped them tightly and then did the same with Gabrielle’s wrists, securing them to the padded black arms of the apparatus. Then her head was positioned on the waiting rest and the leather straps there secured firmly around her forehead, and she was effectively pinned, unable to move.

  ‘Have you ever had your sex shaved before?’ asked Susan, smoothly and proficiently adjusting the chair until Gabrielle was almost reclining fully back.

  Gabrielle shook her head fractionally, just as much as the straps would allow.

  ‘You’ll find it makes you very sensitive,’ Susan went on, with a little knowing glimmer in her eye.

  With her ankles locked in the stirrups Gabrielle felt extremely open and vulnerable, aware that her plump sex lips were parted to reveal her flushed inner flesh and the erect bud that nestled there. Susan gazed down at her bound possession for long silent moments, and then roused herself and took a razor from the utensil trolley that stood beside her, offering a wide variety of instruments for her usage, most of which Gabrielle could see from the corner of her eye and which made her cringe inside.

  ‘You have an extremely inviting clitoris,’ the girl remarked, and Gabrielle blushed deeply at such an intimate and bizarre observation. ‘Extremely inviting…’

  Gabrielle’s cheeks darkening with embarrassment, she closed her eyes, as if this would shut out the humiliation she felt. Then a fingertip touched the sensitive peak of her clitoris and slid back and forth, the cultured touch quickly bringing her so close to a climax, but as suddenly as the titillation began, it stopped.

  A soft slopping sound reached Gabrielle’s ears and she opened her eyes to see what was happening, feeling strangely empty after being teased so. Susan held a stainless steel bowl and a shaving brush.

  ‘You must keep very still,’ she said. ‘Very still indeed.’

  Such was the hold of the chair, how could Gabrielle do anything else?

  The shaving foam felt warm and comforting as it was gently applied, and Gabrielle began to relax and enjoy the feel of it on her hot flesh. Once satisfied her charge was liberally and efficiently coated, Susan placed the bowl back upon the utensil trolley and picked up a razor.

  ‘You’re doing very well,’ said Susan. ‘Now remain as still as possible while I…’

  The touch of the razor was as light as the touch of a feather and Gabrielle began to relax again, gradually beginning to really enjoy the intimate attention. But Susan was extremely efficient, soon the task was complete, and warm water rinsed the remains of the foam from her, and Susan was especially gentle when she patted her dry. She was right, Gabrielle realised; it did seem to make her very sensitive. Even the soft white towel being patted gently between her legs and over the denuded skin made her feel breathlessly aroused.

  ‘Would you like to see what your sex looks like now?’ asked Susan.

  Gabrielle felt confused, unsure how to react to the question, but the choice was taken from her as
Susan held a mirror between her parted thighs.

  ‘I love to see a freshly shaved girl,’ the blonde breathed huskily. ‘What do you think of my handiwork?’

  Gabrielle knew she was blushing still, but looked in the mirror and gasped at the nakedness she saw there. The flesh of her mound was very pale and looked plumper than usual. The outer lips, too, seemed more swollen and much paler than she had ever seen them. By contrast the inner lips were scarlet against the pale flesh. The little bud, too, was darkly flushed, prominent and proud. It seemed to be asking to be petted.

  With her wrists and ankles still tightly secured, Gabrielle remained helpless. ‘Will you please release me now?’ she asked tentatively, not wanting to comment on the question.

  Susan moved gracefully round and stood between the stirrups. ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Are you not enjoying all the attention I’m heaping upon you?’

  ‘No,’ Gabrielle answered timidly, ‘it isn’t that…’ but the words caught in her throat as she sighed, the deft stroke of a finger making her shudder softly.

  ‘You like a girl’s touch,’ Susan remarked confidently. ‘I could tell at the dinner table last night. So would you like to feel my tongue on your inviting little clitty while you’re so available to me?’

  Gabrielle closed her eyes. At that moment she didn’t have a clue what she wanted. What the girl was suggesting was shameful, yet she could not help but yearn for her to do it.

  ‘You shouldn’t ignore me when I ask you a question,’ Susan said, and although the words were spoken softly, there was an unmistakable underlying threat to them.

  The fingers continued to tease, Gabrielle sensed movement – the slight whisper of clothing as the female moved – and then she inhaled sharply as a tongue eased into the moist opening of her sex. She felt it push into the softness of her, and sighed with wanton pleasure. A finger rhythmically and expertly rubbed the tip of her clitoris, inducing her hips to roll sensually on the partly reclined surgical chair. She moaned and strained in the grip of the restraints, pulling on the wrist straps and trying to lift her head.

  Susan looked up from her enjoyable task, her perfect features glossed with glistening juices beneath the stark overhead lighting. ‘Didn’t I tell you that shaving would make you more sensitive?’ she cooed. ‘No barrier, you see, to your pleasure zones… just smooth, silky flesh.’

  The lovely blonde then used her fingers and thumbs to spread Gabrielle further, making the bound girl yet more accessible to her wily tongue, and Gabrielle could not hold back the soft mewl of delight that escaped her slightly parted lips. The pleasure building in the pit of her tummy was almost unbearable; so intense it was almost a pain.

  ‘I-I want to… to come,’ Gabrielle managed to mumble. ‘Please, I can’t bear it any more… I need to come… please…’

  Then at the most inopportune moment possible, as far as Gabrielle was concerned, the door opened and Susan instantly rose and moved away from her, patting her hair into place and smoothing down her clothing. Gabrielle felt her body stiffen in the restraints and she hovered agonizingly on the point of a shattering orgasm, and then slowly opened her eyes to see what the untimely interruption was.

  Marshall Verity was standing there, dressed in only a white toweling robe, the center’s motif stitched on the chest of it. Gabrielle knew she should be mortified for the man, still a virtual stranger despite what they’d been through in such a short space of time, to see her in such an immodest and provocative situation, but she wasn’t. He had engineered the whole scenario, she knew, and Tom had been prepared to sell his own wife to him, so why should she be coy about anything that happened? None of this was her doing.

  ‘Leave us,’ he said to Susan, his eyes never leaving Gabrielle as he spoke, devouring the vulnerability and beauty of her.

  ‘Whatever you say, master,’ the female said contritely, like a child who had been discovered doing something she should not have been doing, and lightly scolded as a consequence.

  ‘And we’re not to be disturbed,’ he added as she left the room, nodding her understanding of the order, and closed the door.

  For long minutes he just stood there, gazing down upon Gabrielle, and then, just as she was going to say something – anything – to break the uncomfortable silence, he moved silently between the stirrups and placed his hands on her knees. ‘You see how obedient my girls are, even when it causes them disappointment?’ he said. ‘That’s because they all long to serve me. Will you long to serve me, dear Gabrielle?’ Distractedly, his thumbs massaged her knees as he spoke, as though he was doing it without thinking. But the simple touch was nice, and Gabrielle could not help but enjoy it.

  ‘Will you?’ he said, and Gabrielle sensed he was asking himself the question, not her. ‘Will you learn to serve me?’

  For some reason her thoughts flickered back to Tom. What was he doing with all that money? Winning? No, she thought scornfully, losing – definitely.

  ‘Your life with me will be far more comfortable than it could ever be with that loser of a husband of yours,’ he said scathingly, cutting into her thoughts, and then the cajoling tones in his voice were replaced with something sharper as he said, ‘What do I have to do to make you want to me?’

  So he was asking her, after all. But the good memories of her marriage to Tom were still far too fresh in her mind; too raw. ‘Time,’ she whispered. ‘Just give me time. Who knows what will happen.’

  Verity smiled and his hands moved in unison, powerfully and slowly down her thighs. ‘A good answer, my dear,’ he said, nodding approvingly, ‘but don’t try my patience for too long.’

  His touch was very nice, but it could not distract Gabrielle from wondering why he needed her so badly when he had the pick of so many other girls – all of them utterly beautiful.

  ‘You have a vibrant innocence about you,’ he said, answering her unspoken question, once again seeming to know what she was thinking, ‘combined with a paradoxical sensuality that intrigues me greatly.’ His fingertips lightly reached the very tops of her inner thighs, resting mere millimeters from her shaven sex lips.

  ‘I might be young, but I’m a married woman,’ Gabrielle reminded him, ‘and what Tom and I got up to makes me anything but innocent.’

  He chuckled, and she inhaled sharply as his thumbs delicately touched her aroused sex lips. ‘It is those little nuances, the tiny contradictions in you that I find so intriguing,’ he said, observing her delicious and thoroughly natural reaction to his touch. Without any apparent aid his robe fell open at that very timely moment, and his erect cock sprang up from his groin, pulsing gently as it pointed at her spellbound face.

  ‘I see how you stare at my penis,’ he went on, his voice low and husky.

  Gabrielle felt her cheeks glow with renewed embarrassment, not even aware that she was staring at its powerful beauty – or was she?

  Then his hips moved forward and the veined underside of the turgid column rested against and between her wet sex lips, its shiny purple globe hovering above the hollowed plain of her tummy. He held himself there for a few minutes, breathing calmly, looking down upon the bound beauty and allowing her to fully appreciate what she was about to receive.

  ‘Tell me what you want,’ he said quietly, almost hypnotically. ‘You want me to fuck you, don’t you?’

  Gabrielle felt as though she was in a dream, that she could not speak.

  Verity eased back, his cock nudged at her succulent entrance, his hands were back on her knees, and with one long slow shunt he filled her completely, her back arching in unison with the penetration despite the bonds that held her so securely.

  ‘Oh yesss…’ he hissed through gritted teeth as his balls nestled between her thighs and his pubic curls rested against the smoothness of her shaven mound. And then he started to move, slowly at first, but increasing his pace until he was thrusting in and out of her body, rapidly approaching hi
s orgasm. Gabrielle yearned to move with him, but she was pinned there on the chair, a body for him to fuck, moving inexorably towards a shattering climax of her own.

  ‘Tell me what you want now,’ he grunted, his hands clamped obsessively to her knees as he fucked her.

  ‘You want me to fuck you until you come, don’t you?’ His urbane façade faltered, his jaw clenched and beads of sweat glistened on his face and chest as he moved with decreasing finesse, trying to hold back and savor the pleasure for as long as possible, wanting to see her come first, to prove his power over her.

  ‘You do, don’t you?’ he persisted.

  ‘Yes…’ she breathed, barely aware that she’d responded. ‘Make me come… master!’

  ‘Oh, my dear girl!’ Verity panted, and then his brow furrowed as he fucked her with ever increasing intensity. Gabrielle heard a scream, her own, as her pleasure built to a peak that was unbearable in its intensity, and she was consumed by a wonderful orgasm.

  ‘Yes!’ Verity grunted victoriously. ‘I’m coming now! Feel me coming deep inside you, my dear girl.’

  ‘I… I can feel it,’ sighed Gabrielle, mumbling almost deliriously. ‘And I’m so very grateful… master.’ Why she addressed him in such a manner again she had no idea, but the whys and wherefores seemed totally irrelevant at that moment.

  He did not pull away from her immediately, but stood there, his vice-like grip upon her knees gradually easing, his eyes closed, his breathing calming as his spent penis slowly softened and slipped from her.

  After long silent minutes, during which Gabrielle began to feel strangely close to the man, as if there was now a powerful bond between them, he opened his eyes and looked down upon her. ‘I’ll send Susan back to show you where to shower and freshen up,’ he said, and his tone hurt her; it was cold and detached, as though they had not just been so intimate together at all – as though it had meant nothing to him.

  Without another word Verity turned, did up his robe, and left the room.