The Mistake.
November was such a dark month.
The street lights flickered into life illuminating the rapidly darkening city center. The early evening traffic was queuing bumper to bumper now as the ironically named "Rush Hour" had started. Angela looked out of the taxi window watching anxiously as frustrated drivers jostled with equally frustrated pedestrians as they tried to get away from the crush of the town center.
Angela's taxi edged slowly through the traffic but time was getting short, she could not afford to miss the appointment. Leaning forward she tapped on the dividing window.
"I'll get out here and walk the rest of the way" she said as she reached into her purse for her last £10.00 note. The taxi driver shrugged unenthusiastically as he dropped her off at the top of the high street just outside one of the swanky hair salons.
As she started walking she peered in at the window of one of the salons. She saw the ladies relaxing in black leather chairs lapping up the attention and mock adoration as they were pampered by the young male stylists. In a brief day dreaming moment she imagined what it must be like to have money; for her to sit in one of those black chairs.
"Yes the Florida trip was great thanks, we had a lovely time"
"Oh Venice, it was fabulous, my husband was there on business and we stayed over for a couple of days."
"We simply cannot decide whether to ski again this Christmas"
Reality shattered her imagination: "You stupid fucking cow" she muttered under her breath. "The stylists are all gay, you don't have any money or a husband and if this job does not work out who knows where you will be next week"
She quickened her pace.
The crumpled scrap of paper she grasped tightly in her hand was unnecessary; the address and phone number scrawled in a shaky hand was burned into her memory, she had thought of nothing else for days now.
Angela crossed the road and headed for the pedestrian zone walking between the avenue of brightly lit shops and boutiques. Walking quickly she pulled her coat collar up, not because of the cold but rather in an effort to hide her face. Eyes lowered and looking down at the pavement she tried to melt into the crowd, to become anonymous and hope that no one noticed or recognized her.
She was surprised to find that Albion St was such a popular area. She eased through the jostling crowds of shoppers, past the brightly lit boutiques and shops and on to the lower end of the street, the area with restaurants and food outlets. Looking carefully for the street numbers on offices and doorways she slowed her pace as she approached her destination; 104 Albion Street.
A sudden fear that she was in the wrong place surfaced in her mind. Glancing at her watch she saw it was 28 minutes past 4 , "Shit" she muttered under her breath as she quickened her pace. Her rising panic eased slightly when she saw the single red door with "104" painted in crude black lettering. At least this was not the seedy run down alleyway she had expected.
The urge to carry on walking was intense but fear is a good motivator and Angela managed to stop in front of the door. She saw the two illuminated doorbells with names : Smith on one and Barkley on the other. The light on the third bell was broken. It had no name, just two capital letters "TG" scribbled in blue biro.
Her mouth was suddenly drier than she had ever known it before and she was sure her pounding heart could be heard by passers-by. With a shaking hand she pressed the intercom button.
A moments silence was followed by a click on a small intercom speaker.
“Who is it?” A female voice crackled over the poor quality intercom.
“Angela?" she said trying to sound confident but failing. An awkward silence followed.
"To see Mr Quinn?”
With a buzzing sound the door latch clicked and the door cracked open just half an inch. Pushing quickly inside and closing the door she saw a single flight of dimly lit stairs leading up to the first floor.
Angela knew she should turn around and run but in reality it was too late, the alternatives were too painful to contemplate. Resolving to go through with her plan she ascended the stairs with slow purposeful steps.
She had to have the money by the end of the week, she simply had to.
The office was neat and tidy, almost clean. It was not as dull or dark as she had expected, quite business like in fact. A lady of about 50, smartly dressed, busty and wearing too much makeup looked up from her desk peering over the top of her spectacles. Her disapproving look reminded Angela of Mrs Blake, the school secretary who, puffed up with her own importance jealously guarded the headmasters office at her old school.
“Mr Quinn will see you shortly, take a seat” Miss Jones motioned her to the single chair in the corner of the room.
Feeling awkward and self and self conscious Angela stared at the floor lost in her own morbid thoughts. After a minute of silence she raised her head and looked around the room. There were three doors in the small office, one marked Mr Quinn the other two had no clue as to their destination. The secretary worked almost silently leaving Angela to her thoughts. After 10 long, painful minutes of waiting a speakerphone on the secretary's desk gave a brief bleep and a male voice simply said “Send her in”.
The secretary glanced up and without speaking, motioned with her head and eyes towards Mr Quinn's office.
Angela stood up, her legs just able to support her as she walked nervously towards the door.
Entering the office she was greeted by a 50-year-old man seated behind his desk. He did not stand up but mumbled “Take a seat; I'll be with you in a moment”. He continued reading through and shuffling papers on his desk.
Angela sat on the chair opposite and waited patiently. The office looked quite ordinary, a little untidy but clean; a casual glance would not detect any clue as to the business Mr Quinn conducted here.
“What can I do for you Angela?” He looked at her directly making her feel uncomfortable. Angela tried to look him in the eyes but she found she could not do it. She lowered her gaze to the floor.
"We spoke on the phone earlier; you said you may have some work for me?
He did nothing to put her at her ease. Leafing through the papers on his desk he found her application. Two pages of A4 stapled together. Angela recognized it as the forms she had spent so long agonizing over as she filled them in. Reading it briefly he suddenly glanced up.
"Well?" he said questioningly, "Let's see what we have here, take your clothes off."
Angela almost threw up on his desk. The knot in her stomach was agony but this was it, the point of no return. She found the strength within herself to continue. Rising slowly to her feet she began to unbuttoned her coat.
"Come on, It's half past four already, we don't have long for this" he said as he looked impatiently at his watch.
"Put your clothes on the chair, hurry up."
Holding back the urge to cry and trying to swallow the lump in her throat she stripped naked and stood before him. Looking down at the slightly threadbare carpet and covering her breasts with one arm and her pussy with her other hand she waited.
Her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
He carried on reading the sheet of paper in front of him, 30 seconds passed before he looked up.
You bastard she thought in a surge of hatred. You ignorant bastard, do you have any idea what this is like for me?
Luckily for her the thoughts remained in her head.
"Arms by your side" he barked as he rose to his feet and walked around his desk towards her.
She lowered her arms letting her rather large breasts sag. Angela was 35 years old. She never had any confidence in her body and hated showing herself to anyone; to show herself to a stranger like this was almost unendurable. Her breasts were pendulous and lower than they used to be. Her tummy was bigger than it should be but her shoulder length blonde hair and bright blue eyes helped to redeem her rather plain features.
He walked up to her and grasped her breast with his fingers as though it was a piece of meat.
A wave of indignation and revulsion rippled through her whole body, in the pit of her stomach she felt a rising urge to vomit. Tensing every muscle in her body she fought to remain in control.
Mauling her breast in his hand he squeezed her nipple roughly between his thumb and forefinger.
"You said they were real, I'm just checking, silicone is not an option with what we have in mind."
"They are real" Angela managed to mutter weakly.
"Get up on the desk and open your legs" he said as he cleared a few items from one end of the desk.
Angela hesitated not knowing whether to sit on the desk or how to do what he had asked.
"Look, if you are going to make things difficult you can go now."
"If you can't do this you won't be able to do anything that will make you any money, now lie on the desk and spread your legs."
Angela walked around to his side of the desk. Sitting on the edge she leaned back and lay flat on the desk drawing her knees up towards her chest. She managed to position herself so that her heels could rest on the edge of the desk.
He stood up and placed his hands one on each knee. He eased her legs apart slowly whilst staring intently at her face.
Angela could not look back at him so she turned her head away to look at the office wall.
"Look at me" he barked sharply.
Angela spun her head defiantly and glared at him with a piercing stare full of hate and anger.
"Good girl" he said patronizingly.
His hands were clammy and he had fat fingers. He pushed her thighs further apart and used his thumbs to open her vagina lips. Spreading them wide he looked at her intently. "Do you normally shave" he asked as he slid his thumbs up and parted her clit hood to reveal her little jewel. "I shaved because it was required by you" Angela's cheeks burned red and she felt a flush of perspiration on her temples.
She felt no sexual excitement at all.
With no warning Quinn pushed his index finger into her pussy. She was not completely dry, some small traces of lubrication helped reduce the physical pain but she was mentally unprepared for the sudden intrusion. This man was a cold hearted bastard with no humanity left in his wizened soul. She did not know how lucky she was to have that trace of lubrication. Placing his left hand full on her stomach as if to restrain her he pulled his finger out and tried to insert it into her anus."Oh my god" she squealed involuntarily. He tried again with no lubrication, Angela screamed.
"You need to let me do this" he said almost kindly, "Have you ever done things like this before?"
"No" she said as she fought the urge to burst into tears.
"You watched the video, you know what we do here and what is expected don't you?"
Angela did not reply.
"This is the easy stuff, do you want to continue?"
With only the briefest pause she said "Yes". Angela felt she had no options left, yes was the only possible answer.
He relented and reached into a desk drawer pulling out tube of lubricant.
Unceremoniously squeezing a little onto his finger he tried again easing his finger around her puckering hole and lubricating it.
"Just try to relax" he said as if he were some sort of doctor.
Angela tried to ease her sphincter muscles and let him in. "That's better" he said as his finger slid in.
She felt the urge to pee but held back clenching her buttocks and pussy at the same time.
"Yes, I have that effect on women" he smirked.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
"Sit up" he said removing his finger from her with a sucking noise.
Thank god that is over she thought.
He started to undo the buckle on his belt. His erection was obvious.
"I'm not doing that" she said.
"What?" said astonished. "My God" he chuckled, do you think I want a blow job? " "Don't be stupid" he said as he removed his belt from his trousers.
"I am going to see how my belt and your backside work together, I need to see that you can handle the pain" He said as though this was the most natural thing in the world.
"Your backside will be red and bruised. I will take some photographs and you can come back into the office in one week so that we can see the results. We need to determine how quickly you will heal."
Angela's heart sank. The blood drained from her face as she realized the implications. She did not want to tell him that she was desperate for the money But next week would be too late."Will I get paid for today?" she asked trying to keep her voice level and determined. "This is just the audition Angela, I will show the tape to the producers and we will see if we can fit you in to one of the scenarios we will be filming next week."
Angela could feel tears welling up in her eyes, with a lump in her throat she knew she would have to risk admitting her predicament but her choices had narrowed to the unthinkable. "Mr Quinn, a week is too long, I'm prepared to do the things I've seen in the film but I need to do it and be paid before Friday."
"Which film Angela?
"We discussed doing some of the more gentle stuff first and you said you wanted to try the easy stuff, that is what today is all about"
"I'll do the Torture Galaxy scenes, You said you would start shooting those tomorrow. I've decided I'll do it."
Quinn's looked at Angela, he was trying to gauge if she was serious or not. Angela could not hold his stare and she averted her eyes downwards. Quinn's face did not reveal any emotion but he smiled imperceptibly to himself.
Returning to his desk he looked down at his papers and a schedule. Without looking up he mumbled "Tomorrow it is Angela, 9 o'clock here in this office."
"You mean you film here, I thought you had a studio."
Quinn handed Angela her clothes, "Get dressed" he said sharply.
Angela's head was thumping now, her world was collapsing, had she really agreed to this? Was it going to happen tomorrow? Here? She dressed sitting on the chair as she pulled her shoes on.
"Follow me." said Quinn as he opened the door.
The secretary was just pulling her coat on as they entered the reception area. "Leave the keys on the desk, I'll lock up" said Quinn as he reached into his pocket. He took out another key and opened the unmarked door. "Come in Angela"
Miss Jones scowled at Angela and pursed her lips disapprovingly. Angela could almost hear her tutting as she headed out of the door and down the stairs where she disappeared from view. Angela felt another twinge of anxiety as she realized she was alone with Mr Quinn.
"Come on, I have not got all day" he barked impatiently.
Angela walked into the room.
It was familiar, it was the room in the film, it was the torture chamber.
The room smelled of antiseptic. Around the walls there were several glass cabinets and display cases all with glass shelves. The devices on the shelves were too numerous to count, all on display, all of them ready for use. Shiny chrome and silver probes and medical tools, some glass bowls , black plastic clamps and there in a chrome tray, scalpels, needles still in their cellophane sleeves. Angela could not begin to guess the purpose of some of the items.
The walls were adorned with whips, paddles and harnesses.
It was as if all the implements were waiting for their next victim.
The center of the room was dominated by a gynecologists chair but another flat padded table and two kneeling benches were pushed to the sides of the walls. Beside the chair Angela saw the trolley with electrical equipment, it's cables dangling; she had seen it in use in one of the films.
Angela felt sick and weak at the knees but she managed to suppress the urge to vomit. The videos she had watched had been made here, she recognized the room and the devices in it. The video scenes flashed through her mind as she pictured the girls in the hands of their tormentor and she wondered if she would be able to endure what they had gone through.
Quinn watched Angela, fascinated by her facial expressions as she took in the scene. "Do you want to sit in the chair, try it out for size?" Quinn was not being helpful. He reached into a slender cardboard box and pulled out a lumbar puncture needle. Taking it out of it's wrapper he walked around and faced Angela.
"Open your blouse" He commanded. Angela looked at the slender 8" needle with a look of disbelief. "I said open your blouse, do you think I'm fucking joking"
The urge to run and the need for the money was tearing her Angela apart but Quinn was staring at her, waiting for her decision, waiting to see if she would be able to continue.
Angela started to unbutton her blouse, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the buttons. "Bra off as well" he said as he played with the needle pulling its length through his pinched finger and thumb. Angela undid her front fastening bra and let the blouse and bra fall to the floor. She cupped her breasts with her hands but Quinn bellowed loudly in her face "Hands behind your back"
She complied and her breasts drooped under their own weight.
Quinn grasped the ends of the needle between fingers and thumbs and drew the length of the needle horizontally down Angela's breast starting at the top and traveling towards her nipple. As the needle reached her nipple he did not stop, simply letting it glide over her soft brown flesh. The action caused Angela's nipple to betray her and it became erect. As unwelcome as it was it was the first time today that she had felt any sexual excitement what soever.
"Look down Angela, look at your nipples" Quinn was pleased with himself but he had not finished.
Angela looked down as commanded and Quinn placed the tip of the needle on the edge of her areola, he pushed gently, not yet breaking the skin but the point was very sharp and puncturing of the skin was imminent.
I have an idea for a scene where your nipples will be stretched by a nipple clamp and 8 of these baby's will be pushed through your nipples at all angles.
The needle will go in just here, at the edge of your areola , it will pass through the nipple and emerge on the the other side.
Your breasts and nipples are absolutely perfect for this, don't you think?
"Angela? Answer me damn you!"
Angela could no longer see her nipples or Mr Quinn. Tears welled up in her eyes and she sank to her knees sobbing uncontrollably. Unable to support her own weight she curled up on the floor in a foetal position wanting to disappear into nothingness.
"I don't think I can do this" she she blubbered between sharp intakes of breath. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry to have wasted your time, please just let me get my things and go"
"Perfect my dear, Perfect. I wish I had that on film" said Quinn with his first hint of a smile that day. He reached down and grabbed her by the shoulders lifting her up to her feet. Angela shoved him away raising her hand as if to strike him, "Get off me you bastard" she screamed "Don't touch me ever again" "You are sick, all of you are sick"
Angela pulled her blouse on and tried to button it up but her fingers would not work, seeing her coat on the chair she snatched it up and headed for the door.
She managed to grab the door handle, turned it and pulled the door open just a few inches. Quinn moved quickly pushing in front of Angela and pressing his back into the door. It slammed shut with a heavy thud. He barred her way completely.
"Now Angela, there is nothing to fear" he said in a flat monotone voice as he placed both hands around her throat.
Angela raised her hand to slap his face but as she so he tightened his grip around her throat three fold. She tried to breath but choked and gasped, it was useless. She lowered her hand and as she did the grip lessened opening her throat to air once more.
"That's better, you get the idea don't you baby."
Angela nodded.
"You have wasted my time and my time is valuable. I need compensation. Tell me Angela, what do you have that is of value? What do think you could do to pay me back?
He relaxed his hands and took them from her throat. She stood still, arms by her side, her head spinning with thoughts of sexual depravity. What would he want? Something in here, something connected with this room or something normal: Angela did not even know what to normal was any more.
"On your knees" he commanded as he opened his fly.
"I just want to go, please" she knew it was a hopeless thing to say and she regretted the admission of weakness. Angela resigned herself to the situation and sank down on her knees in front of him. His cock was almost completely erect and circumcised. "Open up" he forced the words through clenched teeth.
Angela opened her mouth and waited.
Grasping the back of her head with both hands he guided his now fully hard cock into Angela's waiting mouth. She closed her lips gently and started to massage his shaft with her mouth trying to keep her lips in contact and her teeth clear of his flesh. His cock was hot and already slippery with pre cum. She could taste the leaking fluid on her tongue. He pushed steadily deeper and with each thrust he parted her tongue and upper palette just a little further. She dreaded the final deep thrust, taking a cock like his to the back of her throat would surely make her vomit. Trying hard to please and working her tongue on the soft under side of his cock she tried to stimulate him as much as she could in the hope of reducing to his endurance. Reaching up she fondled his balls and squeezed them slightly again hoping to force a conclusion.
As she looked up at his face their eyes met. "Good girl, that's it " he said almost gently.
Angela thought it would be over on several occasions but Quinn pulled back prolonging the humiliation until finally he sped up and groaned. Grasping her head tightly he thrust his cock as deep as he could. Angela struggled but he held tight and pushed, she was gagging and choking but could not stop the onslaught. He pumped the first stream of cum directly down her throat. He grasped a hand full of Angela's hair with one hand so he could keep control of her head and grasping his cock with the other hand he finished with two streams of cum straight into her face.
He kept a firm grip on her hair and slowly squeezed his cum from his cock into her face smearing the mess in, rubbing it into her lips and mouth.
"Look up" he said.
Angela did not respond.
"Look at me" he roared. Cum dripped down from her face landing in her breasts.
"Hold your breasts up. Cup them. Do it."
Angela obeyed.
"Now spit it out onto your nipples."
Opening her mouth she let the cum leak out and she watched as it dropped onto her ample breasts and ran in a slow rivulet over her erect nipples.
Tears added to the moisture.
Angela did not want to give him the satisfaction of making her cry but she could not hold back.
Quinn tucked his spent and softening cock into his fly and zipped up in front of Angela.
"Get out he barked."
Angela just looked up whilst still kneeling, her face and breasts covered in cum and tears, pushing her lips tightly together as she stifled her crying. She knew she was in danger of breaking down completely but she held it together, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her broken and hoping to retain some small piece of dignity.
She stood and picking up her blouse she used it to wipe her face. When she had finished she threw the blouse on the floor never wanting to see the filthy thing again.
At least her coat would give her some protection and dignity. She pulled it on and with shaking fingers she fastened the 4 large buttons and pulled the belt around her.
She could feel the cold silky lining on her still sticky breasts, it felt uncomfortable and she could feel the weight of her un supported breasts as she walked out of the door but at least she would look unremarkable in the street; no one would know what she had just endured would they?
"9 o'clock in the morning" Quinn shouted after her as she walked across the office in silence.
"Don't be late, remember my time is precious"
Angela could not keep her legs from shaking as she descended the stairs and headed for the bus station.
9 o'clock she thought.
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