4 comments/ 47451 views/ 29 favorites The Confession of Alexa Connor By: free2write "It's a masterpiece!" They were standing in the Countess' expansive drawing room. The light was dim, as if to emphasize the secrecy of their meeting. Heavy curtains were drawn against the darkness outside. A log fire was crackling in an imposing fireplace at the opposite end of the room. "A true masterpiece," the Countess repeated. She was pacing slowly, her attention directed towards a tall circular table standing in the middle of the room on thin, elaborately decorated wooden legs. Poised obscenely on top of it was the sculpture of an oversize, erect phallus. It was carved in exquisite detail from a single piece of wood: a smooth glans proudly crowning a sinewy shaft of impressive girth. Its entire length was crisscrossed by a network of thin veins, accentuated sharply by the soft light of a table lamp caressing it from one side. It was carved with such skill that it positively appeared to be pulsating, as if caught in the throes of a violent orgasm. Alexa was standing silently a few paces in retreat, her gaze following the countess as she attentively studied her new acquisition from all sides. The hardwood floor was creaking softly under her steps. For a moment she seemed oblivious to the presence of somebody else in the room. Then she looked up suddenly, as if some tangent thought had broken her concentration. "Oh, of course. Your fee. But please, take a seat while I do the necessary," she said cordially. Alexa followed her accross the room where an L-shaped leather couch and matching armchair were facing each other in front of the fireplace. She remained standing while the countess accessed a safe hidden behind a painting. "In cash as promised," she said as she handed Alexa a stack of notes inside an envelope. "Can I offer you a drink? To celebrate our success?" Without waiting for an answer she walked to the small bar where a lonely bottle of scotch was standing next to an acrylic ice cube bucket and three tumblers neatly arranged on a tray. She fixed two whiskey on the rocks, using tongs to drop a large ice cube into each glass. "Shall we sit down for a minute? There is something I would like to discuss with you," she said as she handed Alexa her drink. They sat facing each other silently over an antique coffee table, the countess in her armchair, legs crossed, and Alexa on the couch, leaning forward with elbows on her knees, holding her glass with both hands. The stiff drink and the cosy warmth of the log fire were making her sleepy. She watched the shadows dancing on the countess' face, studying her not for the first time. She was attractive, in her mid thirties perhaps. Rather young to be a called a countess, Alexa thought. Her husband had disappeared in a light aircraft some years earlier, leaving her fortune and a title. After his death she had lived like a recluse for some time, mourning his loss as was assumed, until she emerged one day, transformed from dutiful wife into a strong-willed and independent woman, ready to enjoy the freedom that great wealth can buy. And this was how, one day, her path had crossed Alexa's. "I just learned of another piece in Evelyn Vaughn's collection," the countess suddenly said, interrupting Alexa's thoughts. "It's an oil painting of an orgy between clergy and nuns in a catholic church. All under the watchful eye of the holy son." She paused for effect, looking straight into Alexa's eyes. "It caused quite a scandal, as you can imagine." She smiled mischievously, took a sip from her drink and leaned back into her armchair. "I would like you to get it for me." "With all due respect," Alexa replied carefully, "but I thought we had discussed this as part of our agreement. I never visit the same place twice." "I appreciate that yours is a dangerous profession, Ms Connor. Rest assured that I am willing to compensate you appropriately for your troubles." "Why don't you simply buy it from her?" Alexa retorted. "It might even come cheaper than obtaining it by illegal means." "I cannot have my name, and my late husband's for that matter, associated with this sort of..." - she waved her hand, searching for the appropriate word - "this sort of pastime. And I can't imagine Evelyn would want to sell. Not to me nor to anyone else." She took another sip from her drink and gave Alexa a complicit look. "So you see, we have no choice but to resort to more unconventional ways." Alexa slowly swirled her glass, thinking it over. It seemed risky, breaking into that house twice in such a short time. Evelyn might be expecting her. And if she got caught, who could know what this eccentric might do with her. But then again, everything has a price, and the Countess was a wealthy woman. "I want double my usual fee," Alexa said without blinking. "Half payable before the work and the other when I deliver the painting." "So be it, Ms Connor. I will have the money ready for you by tomorrow. And now if you would excuse me." She rose, indicating the meeting was coming to a close. They shook hands and the countess retreated to the other side of the room where the sculpted phallus was still waiting for her on its pedestal. Alexa let herself out silently, without taking another look back. ---------- Something rustled in the foliage high above Alexa's head. A short, high-pitched wail rang through the night. Then silence again. For a few endless seconds she remained frozen, listening anxiously, but all she could hear was the sound of leaves stirring softly in the wind. Just a nocturnal bird, she thought as she tried to calm herself. Her torch light was turned off and the forest, filled with unfamiliar sounds, felt oppressive on this moonless night. She shifted a little and raised her binoculars. She was crouching at the edge of a copse, half hidden inside a bush. Facing her across a shallow valley was a round, perfectly shaped hill, stripped of vegetation and covered in closely cropped grass. A small road was snaking up its flank to a gate in a tall wrought iron fence that completely enclosed the upper slopes. Behind the gate, near the apex of the hill, loomed the mansion of Evelyn Vaughn. The heavy stone facade was lit by floodlights shining up from the landscaped garden. From a distance, the building appeared as if surrounded by a diffuse halo, signalling its presence like a beacon in the middle of an ocean of darkness. As Alexa swept the compound she could see a limousine parked on the gravel road near the entrance. Behind it, a series of wide steps led up to an arched doorway where a dark figure - probably the driver - was leaning against a pillar smoking a cigarette. Above him and to the left, a light was shining in a second floor window, flickering from time to time as a shadow crossed and recrossed its path. The rest of the house appeared deserted. Alexa lowered her binoculars and checked her watch: the phosphorescent dial was showing 8:23 pm. She crept deeper into the cover of her bush and sat back with her head leaning against a branch, waiting. A feeling of restless anticipation was settling over her. Squatting in her hiding place with the house in view, barely a few hundred yards away, she could appreciate, for the first time perhaps, the reckless audacity of her plan. And there was something else: an uneasiness, like a bad premonition warning her from some deep recess of her consciousness. Why had she decided to come back, she wondered? Was there something more than the lure of easy money? An unsatisfied curiosity? An irresistible fascination with that mysterious fortress perched on the hilltop and its enigmatic occupant? Most of what Alexa knew about Evelyn Vaughn was based on rumours and dubious tabloid speculations. She was the daughter of the real estate magnate Edward Vaughn. Smart and educated, she held a seat on the board of her father's company and was one of its largest shareholders, but was otherwise little involved in its day to day operations. She was already very wealthy and had little need nor incentive to work. Instead she chose to lead the life of a hedonist, dedicating herself to the pursuit of pleasures, both of the mind and of the flesh. Her interests were unconventional, which invariably attracted scandal and controversy. It was known that over many years she had assembled a vast collection of erotic art, which she prominently displayed in her house for the benefit of her guests. Her library was stocked with works of libertine and pornographic literature. Rumours began spreading, uttered in whispered tones at dinner soirées and exclusive cocktail receptions, soon amplified by endless repetitions and fertile imaginations. Evelyn was said to have an almost insatiable sexual appetite. People claimed that she hosted orgies in her hilltop mansion, attended by powerful people in business and politics; that her house was fitted with secret sound proofed rooms where she could act out her most depraved phantasies; that she had people in her employ, trained in the arts of pleasuring, and that she used to satisfy her every needs. In spite of her prudishness, or maybe because of it, Alexa found such debauchery strangely titillating. It offered such a stark contrast to her own sex life which tended to be fairly conventional: single partner, male, standard positions, occasional orgasms. She tried to picture herself at one of Evelyn's gatherings, wondering what it would feel like to be touched by complete strangers; to feel their hands on her naked body, caressing her, invading her most intimate parts. She imagined the sweet sensation of their tongues, warm and moist, tracing her every curve, exploring her mounds and crevices, teasing her until she writhed in ecstasy. Alexa was becoming uncomfortably aroused. Almost unwittingly, she grabbed her backpack and positioned it between her folded legs, pressing it against her crotch with her heels. Then she leaned back on her hands and started moving her hips up and down in a slow grinding motion. She was wearing tight leggings, and through the thin fabric she could feel the coarse material of the pack rubbing her in all the right places. Her imagination was fired up now. A constant stream of images raced through her mind, a confused mosaic of delicious vulgarity. She heard moans echoing around her, smelled the scent of sex and sweat. She kept grinding for several minutes, with increasing urgency, until she could hold off no longer. She spun around, settling on all fours, her legs parted wide, and began riding her pack in long, languorous strokes. She sighed and moaned as she felt herself inching closer to her peak, adjusting her pace as she neared the edge, not wanting to come too quickly. As she was about to orgasm, she raised her head and found herself looking again through the foliage at Evelyn's house, that forbidden fortress, beckoning seductively from the other side of the valley. Something had changed she thought, suddenly distracted. The light in the upper floor window had been switched off. She cursed in frustration, grabbed her binoculars and crawled out of the bush. She scanned the grounds for a few minutes and before long she saw the front door open and a tall, elegantly dressed woman emerge. She stood briefly under the arch by the entrance while the liveried driver hurried to the car and opened the rear door for her. Then she briskly floated down the steps and disappeared into the back of the limousine. Alexa watched as car made its way down the short gravel road, slowing down a little as the heavy gate swung open ominously, and engaged on the access road that led into the valley. She followed the glow of the headlights zigzagging down the hill, heard the distant roar of the engine carried over to her by the light breeze, until the car reached the main road and its red tail lights faded into the night. Alexa quickly stowed away her binoculars and grabbed her flashlight, slipped on her backpack and started making her way down the hill. Her long brown hair, tied casually in a pony tail, bobbed on her shoulders as she jogged behind the trembling cone of her flashlight. She was wearing a dark runner's outfit: leggings, a tight long sleeved top, jacket and sneakers. She stumbled over rocks and tree roots until she found herself by the edge of a shallow river. She followed its bank, looking for a way across, until she saw a makeshift stone path cutting through the water. It was made of large, evenly spaced rocks lying sufficiently close together so that she could jump from one rock to the next until she reached the opposite bank. Once she was back on firm ground she switched off her flashlight. The ground rose again, steeply at first but then flattening out. She followed the curve of the hill, staying low, away from road, until she stood at the foot of the perimeter fence. There, she squatted down to catch her breath. The air was cooler now. Above her head, stars were twinkling in the black dome of sky. She looked up and studied the fence. It consisted of closely spaced wrought-iron pickets, about three meters high, sunk into a low stone wall, each topped by a kind of gilded spire. She opened her backpack and withdrew a thick foam camping mattress. She unrolled it and flattened it out on the grass. Then she held on to one end and tossed the other over the fence. She needed several attempts until it was positioned properly, hanging securely like a protective cover over the pointed tips of the fence pickets. When she was satisfied she stepped back a few steps and hurled her backpack in a steep arc over the fence. She heard it land on the other side with a dull thud. Then she removed her shoes and socks, and climbed up, using only her hands and feet. She had a slight frame, almost petite, and her body was lithe and athletic. She reached the top without breaking a sweat and sat straddling the foam mattress. She took one final look around to check the coast was clear, then jumped and landed on the soft grass. She was now inside the property. A tremor of apprehension rippled through her body. She could feel her pulse quicken, all her senses were on high alert. She retrieved her backpack and dashed across the lawn to the back of the house. Adjacent to the rear wall was a shed used as a garage for Evelyn's luxury cars. Its roof sloped up to the wall, meeting it just below an unlit window on the first floor. A rain gutter ran along the eaves to a pipe that descended straight into the ground. It was almost too easy. Alexa climbed up the pipe until she could grab the gutter with both hands. She pulled on it a few times to make sure it would carry her weight. Then, in a single fluid motion, she heaved herself onto the roof. She clambered up the steep incline to the wall, tiptoeing over wobbling shingles. There she squatted down and pressed her head against the window, hands cupped around her face. She could see a large bed set against a wall to one side. It was covered with a thick bed spread, crisp and immaculate, and strewn with pillows, arranged more for lounging than for sleeping. On the opposite wall was a small fireplace with two armchairs, both oddly turned towards the bed, silent witnesses to the lewd acts that she knew must routinely play out on its sheets. Alexa realised she was looking at Evelyn's bedroom, and she smiled at the happy coincidence, for she knew this was the very room where the Countess' painting was to be found. Feeling calmer now, she fished out her tool set. Using a glass cutter, she carved a twenty centimetre hole into one of the window panes, carefully reached through it with her forearm and unlocked the window from inside. It swung open noiselessly. She slipped into the room, felt her feet sink into soft carpet. She drew the curtains and began sweeping the room with her flashlight. As the beam wandered over Evelyn's bed, she noticed the leather shackles bolted into the sturdy bedposts. She pulled on the chains a few times, playfully. Her curiosity piqued, she pulled open the top drawer of the nightstand. To her amazement, it revealed a range of dildos of varying shapes and sizes. She picked one up and touched its cold metal surface. It was smaller than the others, barely the size of a finger, and Alexa briefly wondered if it had a some special use. Then she returned it carefully and closed the drawer. She let the beam wander further, searchingly, over the far wall, and suddenly she saw it, hanging over a small wooden cabinet. It was smaller than she had expected, about sixty centimetres wide and forty centimetres tall. She moved closer to examine the painting in more detail. Monks in cassocks with oversize, swollen penises; nuns that looked more like eighteenth century noble ladies, pale and plump, with legs eagerly spread; curled flames in the shape of the devil rising through the church windows. It looked farcical somehow, she thought, but at the same time strangely unsettling. Suddenly a strange uneasiness crept over her, a chill, the indistinct sense that there was somebody else in the room, watching her. The floor boards creaked, close behind her, and she felt a warm breath on her neck. It happened quickly. Before she could turn around, a strong arm locked around her waist. A towel was pushed against her mouth and nose. The sharp, acrid smell cut her breath away and almost at once she began to feel dizzy. Alexa struggled, but she felt weak, so weak. Stars were dancing in front of her eyes. Then everything went black. ---------- When Alexa opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was candle light. Long shadows were dancing eerily on the wall. She smelled the scent of burned wax, heard the soft hissing and crackling of tiny flames. She turned her head. More candles, held in brass chandeliers and standing on shelves amid pools of molten wax. "Where the hell am I?" she thought. The room looked like a cellar. She could see exposed brick walls, a low ceiling traversed by wooden beams and a heavy door. There was no furniture except for the table she was lying on and a stool in a corner. She tried to sit up and look around, but something was pinning her down. She looked up along her arms, and saw that her wrists were held in thick leather shackles. She pulled on them reflexively, and heard the dry rattle of chains binding them to the table. She tried to push herself up with her feet, but found that her legs would not move. She was becoming agitated now. She raised her head and looked down at herself. To her horror she discovered that she was stark naked. Candlelight was shimmering on her bare skin. She instinctively tried to close her legs but found that her ankles, like her wrists, were shackled to the table with her legs spread wide open. "This can't be real," she thought in disbelief, "I must be trapped in some horrible dream." With all her strength she pulled on the restraints. She twisted and turned her body, her small, perky breasts bobbing in futile attempts to pull herself free. She screamed for help, but her cries were met only with silence. Before long she let herself sink back resignedly, panting from her exertions. Suddenly she glimpsed movement from the corner of her eyes. She looked up and saw somebody floating upside down, directly above her. For a few seconds her mind reeled in confusion, until she realised that she was looking at her own reflection in a life size mirror mounted on the ceiling. She gasped in shock as she caught a full frontal view of herself, lying spread-eagle on the table, legs splayed obscenely with her sex in full view. She noticed that her pubic hair had been shaven clean off. Her knees were bent outward slightly, causing her labia to part invitingly. In her entire life she had never felt so humiliated. She could feel tears of shame welling up. Suddenly she heard footsteps coming closer. The door opened and two women entered the room. Alexa recognised the tall woman she had seen earlier leaving the property in her limousine. The other was shorter, wearing glasses and dressed in a kind of nurse's uniform. The Confession of Alexa Connor The tall woman approached the table and looked down at Alexa, her arms crossed in front of her. She took her time, letting her gaze wander lasciviously over Alexa's naked body, before making eye contact. She had beautiful sparkling brown eyes with unusually long lashes. "Good evening, Alexa", she finally said. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Evelyn Vaughn, and I welcome you into my house. I hope you will forgive the rather unconventional way in which I am receiving you tonight. But in my defence, I was unprepared for your visit." Her voice was bristling with irony. She began pacing slowly around the table until she stood behind Alexa who had to crane her neck to look up at her. "It was very foolish of you to come back here," she said, her tone serious again. "That's right, Alexa, I know it was you who stole the sculpture. Obviously you have sold it to a collector, and no doubt the buyer has sent you back here to get the painting. I'm terribly curious to know who has such a keen interest in my collection, and you would do me a great favour by telling me his name. I, in turn, will make sure your stay her is as pleasant as it can possibly be." She looked down at Alexa expectantly, indicating it was her turn to speak. But Alexa remained stubbornly silent. No matter how much she wanted to put an end to this ordeal, she wasn't about to implicate the countess. It was more than simple loyalty. Her clients paid good money and in turn expected absolute discretion and confidentiality. If she broke that trust, she knew, she would never work again. Not in this job. After a long, awkward silence, Evelyn began pacing again. "Of course, I understand you may need some time to think it over. Maya here," - she gestured towards the other woman - "will assist you in your deliberations, and we can pursue this conversation at a later point." She was now facing Alexa, standing right between her spread legs. Her eyes flickered down briefly to her sex. "I trust you will make a decision sooner than you expect," she said, smiling mischievously. Then she turned around and walked towards the door. "And by the way", she added, "you should know that I'm recording all of this, for my own personal use. Call it compensation for my troubles." She gestured towards an area above the door frame, and Alexa saw the red flashing light of a camera. "I'll be back in an hour," were Evelyn's parting words. Then she left the room, closing the door behind her. Alexa turned to the woman in nurse's uniform, Maya, who during the whole conversation had sat silently on the stool in the corner, legs crossed and hands folded on her knee. She stood up now, walked to one end of the table, out of Alexa's view, and returned pushing a small trolley with several plastic bottles in front of her. She took one of the bottles and poured a copious amount of an oily substance into her hands. "Massage oil", Alexa thought. Maya rubbed her hands together a few times, then grabbed Alexa's foot. She held it in both hands, and began massaging the sole with her thumbs. Alexa flinched in surprise and tried to pull her foot away. "No! Please, stop," she begged. But Maya ignored her protests and continued massaging, unperturbed. Her hands were very smooth and soft. She slowly worked her way up from the heel to the base of Alexa's toes. She massaged the forefoot, drawing circles over it with her thumbs. She ran her fingers back and forth between Alexa's toes, then massaged each toe in turn between her oil-soaked fingers. She clasped the foot between her hands and rubbed and squeezed it lecherously until it was coated in oil up to the ankle. By now Alexa had abandoned her pointless protests. She was lying motionless, staring straight ahead, feigning indifference. But the tickling sensations on her foot and the warm slipperiness of the massage oil were beginning to arouse her. She concentrated, tried to keep still and breathe steadily. Maya now switched to Alexa's left foot. She repeated her ministrations with equal ardour, then returned once again to the right foot. She held Alexa's ankle with one hand and used the other hand to gently bend back her toes, stretching the skin of her sole. Then she leaned forward, and suddenly Alexa felt Maya's tongue running up the arch of her foot. She gasped in surprise and her toes curled in pleasure. Maya held them firmly and licked her way up the arch, over the forefoot, and along the crease at the base of her toes. Alexa felt the warmth of Maya's breath on her skin. The soft, moist contact of her tongue felt delicious. She looked down and watched as Maya spread her toes and slowly ran her tongue over the sensitive membranes of skin stretching between them. To her horror Alexa could feel herself becoming wet. She closed her eyes and bit her lip to suppress her moans. But this only seemed to give Maya more encouragement. She licked and sucked on Alexa's toes, ran her tongue over every curve and crease of her foot, sometimes in slow, languorous strokes, sometimes flicking and lashing here and there. When she had subjected both feet to this treatment she backed away and left Alexa lying on the table, panting. Alexa was surprised and confused by her quick arousal. A few minutes in Maya's skilled hands had sufficed. Already her pussy was moist and tingling. She felt so helpless, so vulnerable. And somehow, in spite of herself, this excited her tremendously. She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm herself, to appear composed, summoning all her strength and determination. Maya was now standing on one side of the table. She poured massage oil over Alexa's leg and began spreading it with both hands, first over her calve, then over her thigh, all the way up to her groin. She stroked the inside of Alexa's thigh, let her hands slowly drift upwards and linger agonisingly close to her sex. She rubbed along the crease inside her thigh, inching her way up until her fingers were almost grazing her labia. She felt her body tense as she struggled to remain still. Her hips were moving almost imperceptibly as her pussy instinctively sought the contact of her fingers. Maya crossed to the opposite side of the table and began massaging Alexa's other leg. She rubbed and stroked it in the same fashion, inflaming Alexa even further until she could feel her trembling under her fingers. Then she stepped back and looked down at her, like an artist contemplating her work. Alexa's legs were covered in massage oil from her toes to her hips, her skin glistening in the flickering candlelight. Only her pubic region had been spared so far. But not for long. Already Maya could see a shining patch between her gaping labia. Maya returned to the table and stood between Alexa's legs. She held them just above the knees, thumbs extended out, then let her hands slide upwards, over the soft, slippery skin inside her thighs. Alexa's body became rigid as she felt Maya's hands zooming towards her pussy. For a second she thought she was going to touch it and her pelvic muscle contracted in anticipation. But at the last moment, she felt Maya's hands change direction. Her thumbs swept up in a wide arc, grazing Alexa's shaved labia. She sighed and bucked her hips in pleasure, unable to contain herself any longer. Maya's hands met on her abdomen, circled just above her pubic mound, then descended back along her thighs. Maya repositioned her hands and moved in for a new assault. She was more insistent this time and pressed lightly on her thumbs as they swept along the edge of Alexa's pussy lips. She stroked her abdomen, then returned to her thighs and started over, again and again and again. Alexa's sighs became passionate and her hips rose eagerly with each passage of Maya's hands. Maya spread her fingers and brushed them up and down over Alexa's groin. Her thumbs and index fingers were positioned directly on her labia, following their sloping curve all the way from top to bottom. She could feel them swell up as they gorged with blood. Her inner labia were starting to protrude and Maya made sure her fingers rubbed against them as they slipped up and down Alexa's pussy. She could smell her arousal now, see the moisture building between her lips as she teased her relentlessly. Her sighs evolved into moans, her hips rocked and swayed like a ship in a storm. Maya placed her hands flat on either side and stroked Alexa's pussy lips with her thumbs. Before long Alexa was moaning feverishly, bucking and bending her hips, keeping pace with Maya as she rubbed her with increasing urgency. Maya didn't stop until Alexa's juices began seeping out of her and dripping down her crotch. Then she withdrew her hands. Alexa opened her eyes. She was panting heavily, mouth half open, her breasts rising and falling with every breath. She didn't dare look at Maya, not wanting her to see the lust and frustration in her eyes. She felt like a slut, ashamed by her own reluctant pleasure and the raw, carnal craving she could sense taking hold of her body. She lay there, waiting, not knowing what was in store for her. Maya appeared behind her. She leaned down, her round, full breasts bobbing tauntingly inside the crisp fabric of her uniform, right over Alexa's face. Alexa could smell the peachy scent emanating from her cleavage. Oh god, how badly she wanted to kiss those breasts. Maya's hands were back on Alexa's body. She spread massage oil over her abdomen, over her rib cage and around her breasts with long, sweeping motions of her palms. She ran her fingers over her shoulders and up her arms to the shackles on her wrists, then returned along her armpits to her chest. Alexa shivered and her skin broke out in goosebumps. Maya circled teasingly a few times, then let her hands climb over Alexa's breasts, brushing the delicate skin with her fingertips. She looped around her nipples suggestively and they instantly hardened. Alexa arched her back, thrusting her breasts into Maya's hands. Maya held them, squeezing and stroking the soft flesh with her palms while her thumbs rubbed along the edge of her aureoles. In no time Alexa's nipples were stiff and erect, begging to be touched, but Maya cruelly steered around them. Alexa's eyes were closed again. She gasped and panted in pleasure, her body trembling with desire as she surrendered to the assaults of Maya's hands. The tingling sensations on her breasts and pussy had become almost unbearable and she realised with alarm that she would soon need to orgasm. Suddenly Alexa felt Maya's hands move away and she looked up as if emerging from a trance. Evelyn was standing beside the table, smirking insolently. Alexa blushed, embarrassed at having been caught like this, so plainly enjoying being fondled and abused. "Alexa, my dear," Evelyn exclaimed, eyebrows raised in mock scorn. "I didn't suspect that you were such a whore." She leaned down and sniffed Alexa's pussy. "Look at you, sopping wet and squealing like a bitch in heat. You sure have been enjoying this, haven't you?" She chuckled and began pacing around the table. Alexa noticed the change in tone from their previous encounter. She followed Evelyn with her eyes until she stood directly above her. Evelyn put her hands on the shackles around Alexa's wrists. "If only we untied those hands. I bet you would be rubbing your cunt right there in front of me, not even caring that I watch." She stroked Alexa's forearms, then leaned in closer and whispered: "I know you want to come, Alexa. You want to come sooo bad. Why don't you make this easy on yourself? We can finish you off right there, make you come like you have never come in your life. If only you tell me what I want to know. Who sent you to my house? I want a name." "I have nothing to say to you," said Alexa, but her tone was diffident, her resolve wavering. "Don't be stupid," Evelyn replied, surprised by her impudence. "You cannot hold off much longer, it's only a matter of time." Alexa lowered her eyes and said nothing. "Suit yourself, my dear" Evelyn said curtly. She turned towards Maya: "Please proceed. This conversation is not over." And on these words she stormed out of the room. For a moment there was silence. "You are brave, Alexa," Maya suddenly said. It was the first time she spoke. Her voice was suave, strangely erotic. She approached the table, her hands already soaking with oil. "But you are fighting a losing battle." She wrapped her hands around Alexa's breasts and began stroking them gently. "Let yourself go, Alexa," she whispered, "and I will give you unspeakable pleasure." She held Alexa's erect nipples between her fingertips and rubbed them gently. Alexa arched her back in response. "That's it, Alexa. Don't hold back. I know it feels good." She continued stroking her until her nipples had turned rock hard, rising more than an inch above the dark skin of her aureoles. Then she held Alexa's breast with both hands, bent over and took a nipple into her mouth. She sucked on it delicately, circled it with her tongue. Alexa squirmed and moaned as she felt the warm, moist flesh slithering over her breast, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her body. Maya lapped against her nipples, flicked and stroked them with the tip of her tongue, encouraged by Alexa's frantic moans and the rhythmic rising and falling of her chest. Alexa's pussy was aching badly now, and she unwittingly started moving her hips, signalling that it needed attention. Maya walked over, let a thin filament of massage oil fall on her pubic mound and waited while it oozed down between her labia. She placed her hand flat over Alexa's pussy, her middle finger resting on her slit, and very gently spread the massage oil over her burning lips. Alexa bent her knees, tried to spread her pussy against Maya's palm, to rub herself against it. But Maya denied her this pleasure and simply withdrew her hand, smiling as Alexa's body contorted in frustration. "Not so fast, Alexa," she said, "I'm not finished with you." Maya stroked Alexa's left labium, rubbing its entire length between her thumb and index finger. "Yes that feels so good, doesn't it, Alexa?" Maya said. She continued rubbing for a while, then switched to the right labium. Alexa's hips rose and fell in step with the slow stroking motion of Maya's hand. Her pussy was glowing crimson, glistening with massage oil and her own wetness, opening up under Maya's caresses like a ripe, juicy fruit ready to be picked. Maya spread Alexa's pussy, revealing the soft, pink skin of her inner labia. She stroked them gently with her fingertips. Then she placed her hand flat over her gaping sex and let the warm, moist flesh slip between her fingers as she rubbed up and down over her pussy. Alexa's body surged, her lustful moans echoing around the room. She strained to spread her thighs wider, offering her sex with complete abandon to Maya's probing fingers. Maya pressed her hand harder against Alexa's pussy and her hips began lurching and waving in a frantic grinding motion as she tried to rubb herself to an orgasm. Alexa was only moments away when she felt Maya's hands make their way down to the entrance of her sex. For a brief instant, she thought she was going to penetrate her. But instead her hand drifted lower, into the cleft of her ass, and before she knew it Maya's finger was on the rim of her anus. Alexa gasped in surprise and her butt cheeks clenched involuntarily around Maya's finger. She raised her head, not quite believing what she was feeling as a wave of new, delicious sensations spread through her limbs. "You like that, don't you, Alexa?" Maya said as she continued teasing her ass. She spread Alexa's butt cheeks and circled her anus with her finger. "Oh yeah, that feels so good," Alexa moaned, surprised at how much she was enjoying such a crude and intimate touch. Maya's hands drifted back, slipped up along Alex's groin and climbed over her pubic mound. She parted Alexa's labia and brought out the pink tumescence of her clitoris, erect and protruding from its hood. She flicked it gently with a wet finger, barely touching it. Alexa's hips lifted off the table and she moaned in intense, unbearable pleasure. Maya continued flicking Alexa's clitoris, her pace increasing until Alexa thought she was going out of her mind with lust. Never before had she been so turned on. She felt humiliated and embarrassed by what her arousal was making her do, but nothing mattered anymore but her all encompassing need for release. It was as if her body were overcome by a raw, animal urge that she was powerless to resist. She heard the words come out of her mouth, imploring: "Please, oh please, fuck me!" Maya obliged and slipped two fingers easily into her. Her pussy was burning hot and soaked with juices. She twisted and wiggled her fingers, pulled them out slowly, and plunged them back deep into her. Alexa bucked her hips. "Oh yes, like that," she moaned. Maya increased her pace and settled into a steady fucking motion. Alexa's moans grew crescendo, her body rocking and quaking as she eagerly met every thrust of Maya's hand. As Alexa felt her orgasm building, she looked up and her gaze fell on the large ceiling mirror above her. The sight of her own naked body, spread helplessly on the table and pleasured so crudely excited her beyond belief. She could not help but watch herself being fucked and suddenly she found herself on the verge of a powerful orgasm. She pulled on her restraints and arched her body as she braced herself for her climax. But at the last second Maya pulled out. Alexa's pussy throbbed, juices flowing down her crotch, but she didn't come. "No, please. Don't stop," she begged as she let herself sink back on the table. Maya slowly stroked her groin and pussy lips and said: "I want to make you come, Alexa. But I can't, not until Evelyn has given permission. And you know what she wants, don't you?" Without waiting for an answer, she placed two fingers over Alexa's clitoris and began rubbing it with a rapid flicking motion of her wrist. "Oh yeah, oh yeah", Alexa moaned, her hips rocking as she felt herself quickly approaching another orgasm. Maya slackened her pace, bringing Alexa agonisingly close to her peak, balancing her on the edge without pushing her over it. "Oh my god, please, let me come. Pleaase," she screamed as her body writhed in ecstasy. But Maya ignored her begging and pleading. She continued teasing her mercilessly, edging her again and again until Alexa felt her pussy was going to burst with desire. Suddenly the door opened and Evelyn walked into the room. She smiled when she glimpsed Alexa, covered in oil, sweat and juices. "Well, Alexa" she said, "you don't look so cocky anymore." She came closer to the table and looked down between Alexa's legs. "Look at that horny little pussy," she said. She reached out and let her finger run up and down along Alexa's slit, scooping up her juices. Then she slipped the finger into her and began fucking her in agonising slow motion. "Yes, you like that. I bet you want to come real bad now, you little slut." She pulled out and walked up to Alexa. "Lick it!" she ordered, holding the finger right over her face. Alexa dutifully stuck out her tongue and began lapping up her own juices. When she was done Evelyn leaned in closer and said: "I will make you scream in pleasure, Alexa. But first you have to help me." She ran her hand through Alexa's hair. "It was the countess, wasn't it, Alexa?" she whispered. "She has the sculpture, and she sent you here to steal the painting." There was a long silence as Alexa struggled with her options. She didn't want to betray the countess, but she needed to come so bad. Evelyn was right, she could not hold off any longer. And didn't she already know about the countess anyway? Alexa swallowed hard, and whimpered: "Yes. It was the countess." There! She had said it. Evelyn smiled triumphantly and continued stroking her hair for some time. "You have been a good girl, Alexa. And I will hold up my end of the bargain." The Confession of Alexa Connor Evelyn rose and walked to the end of the table. She spread Alexa's pussy lips and slipped three fingers deep into her, stretching her pussy and filling her out deliciously. At the same time, Maya cupped her hands over Alexa's breasts. They began pleasuring her simultaneously, Maya rubbing and stroking her breasts and nipples, Evelyn flicking her clitoris with one hand and fucking her with the other. Alexa was so aroused that almost immediately she found herself on the edge of another tremendous orgasm. "Oh yeah, don't stop," she moaned. "I'm so close, please don't stop." She raised her head and looked up pleadingly at Evelyn, expecting her to withdraw any second. But she didn't, and suddenly Alexa knew she was going to come. She let her head fall back and concentrated on her impending orgasm. She felt it build slowly between her legs, spreading out from her clitoris as if all her pent up sexual energy had become focused there, filling out her pussy completely, its power increasing until it became almost unbearable. She pulled on her restraints, lifted her entire body off the table, her back arched and her hips suspended it midair. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" she screamed as her floodgates opened and suddenly she exploded into a devastating orgasm. She thrashed her hips as torrents of intense pleasure ripped through her body. Her pussy spasmed violently, clenching around Evelyn's fingers, her juices flowing freely over Evelyn's hands as she continued fucking her right through her orgasm. When Alexa's climax finally began to subside, Evelyn withdrew her hand from her now over sensitive clitoris and slipped it down into the cleft of her ass. Alexa raised her hips and bent out her knees, giving Evelyn easy access. She circled the rim a few times then slipped a finger into her anus. "Oh yeah, oh my god," Alexa moaned as she felt Evelyn satisfying her at both ends. In no time her body was rocked by another powerful orgasm. And then another, and another. When it was all over, Alexa lay panting on the table, her breasts heaving as she descended from the dizzying heights of her peak. Evelyn and Maya caressed her skin tenderly while she recovered. Then Evelyn walked up to her and placed a hand on her head, stroking her hair. She suddenly appeared protective, almost motherly. "If it's any consolation", she said, "you lasted longer than most." They untied Alexa and helped her off the table. Her legs were weak and trembling, and she had difficulty standing up. They walked her out of the room, up a flight of concrete stairs and through a sound proofed door into a large sitting room. They climbed more steps, followed a dark hallway and suddenly they were in a guest bedroom. They tucked Alexa into bed, still naked, and Evelyn kissed her on the forehead. "I trust you will enjoy your stay here, my dear", she whispered. Then they left the room and Alexa heard the lock clicking. She drifted off and quickly fell into a deep sleep, utterly spent and fully satisfied.