Tricked

In the dim damp confines of the cellar the three of us stood, as best we could give the cramped conditions, observing the macabre device.

“Where the fuck did you get this from?” I offer looking to my left at my house mate Dale his faced being etched with a some evil grin stretched across his features.

“The Rugby Club…” he offers nodding steering around the wooden contraction, “…sits in the corner of the storeroom unused three hundred and sixty four days a year.”

“And what exactly does a Rugby Club do with such a device the one day a year it’s needed?” I offer with geneuine intrigue.

“Soak a bloke” Dale offers, as if such knowledge holds him at Mensa level IQ.

“Soak… a… bloke” Dharmesh, my second house mate stood a little behind me in the darkness Offers with a certain amount of confusion still.

“Yes Dharms,” ​​Dale still enthusiastically offers before he finally confirms, “Summer Fete that sort of thing …donate what you want and throwa bucket of ice water… or worse over whoever’s inside it.”

“Oh right” Dharmesh states “And we need it for?”

“Soak a slut” Dales darkly chuckles.

“Soak… a… slut…” I reply, my turn to break down and question exactly what he refers to. “I did just hear you right… didn’t I?”

“Yeah… we just need to find the right little subject matter and Our upcoming little Halloween soirée has the ultimate little bit of basement attention.”

“It’s a cellar at best,” I correct Dale in the gloom despite the weak bulb that flickers in the ceiling… where you once tried to grow weed.”

“And I would have done” Dale offers, “And saved a fortune.”

“If only your hydroponic lights had a power supply down here…” Dharmesh chuckles, “…and I’m sure the landlord was over the moon with the half a dozen extension cables that fried the circuit board and nearly burnt his house down.”

“Alright… alright…” Dale concerns, “…Back to the case in point…. Onegirl… one set of wooden stocks… one party… two out of three already ready.”

“Exactly who do you think you’ll convince to join you down here?” Dharmesh takes the words from my mouth before I can speak.

“Leave that to my wit and charm” Dale states, with a caustic enthusiasm.

“What usually equals to a liberal amount of Vodka” I quickly chide.

“I’ll find someone… what about… what about that blonde… your fuck buddy from last year… Callie?” Dale ruminates already, “…She’s suggestible and accommodating.”

“Her name is Cassie and she’s in a long term relationship with the captain of your Rugby Team,” I immediately reply, not even wanting to contemplate the prospect of the girl I had been fond of but never sought to begin to start a relationship with before it had been too late, to the point that even our frequent very casual liaisons had been lost to me.

“That’s a hard no then” Dharmesh chuckles “Pity she’s a…”

Dharmesh’s sentence trails off, as I know well, he has always liked Cassie himself, but never acted on his attention.

“Let’s not over think this…” Dale interjects “…We’ll …I’ll find a little Halloween slut.”

“Jill Henderson” I offer with a knowing nod and smile from my two housemates.

“Jill fucking Henderson” Dharmesh agrees his grin spreading on the illicit thoughts playing out Through his mind.

“I can charm most girls…” Dale overly confidently, given his track record, states “…but I’m not a miracle worker …I’ll trap us a bunny though.”

“Could you actually sound any sinister?” I state backing away from Dale’s ill conceived plan in order to head back up stands to my room. Not least given that I’ve an essay to complete and submit within two hours.

*********

Our second Halloween party is a blaze of sights, sounds, and smells.

Just before eleven pm the mid-size rented sized property, we call home, is packed. A matter not helped by the torrentialrain outside on the cold wet October night which means that the garden areas to the front and rear cannot be utilized for overspill.

Dharmesh passes me, dressed inexplicably as Marty McFly from Back to the Future.

He raises a bottle of Vodka as he leads a red head called Millie, I believe, along the corridor towards the packed kitchen area.

Stood two steps up the property main staircase I Take the moment to observe and absorb everything that plays out before me. That is until I see the enigmatic Jill Henderson and two of her friends step in through the wide open front door.

Ignoring her friends I concentrate on Jill who is dressed almost head to two in figure hugging black leather. Spare only for the nylon pointed witches hat she could pass to be heading for a night out anywhere, not that I am complaining. I offer a smile and cursory nod as she passes heading immediately down the hallway towards the kitchen which is the regular drinks station at our parties.

Casting my eye up along her exhaust black thigh-high boots that reveal around an inch of fishnet clad thigh before meeting the hem of the tight black strapless dress that clings to every subtle curve of her body. As she passes down the hallway, I am not the only one to pay Jill attention, males in the main but even females cast an admiring glance, such is her presence and beauty.

I’ve no doubt her appearance as per usual, is to flash attention before her and her sycophantic little crowd head on into the night for more hedonistic pursuits. The latest rumour being that Jill is dating an international footballer who has recently joined the local Premier League club on a season long loan, following a sordid tabloid expose in the summer that his parent club were none to happy about.

“It’s just an excuse for girls to dress like sluts ain’t it” offers Mark McMasters one of my peers on the same Media course as myself as he brushes past me up the stairs.

“You complainingmate… it’s half the reason we host this bash” I offer as he is lost in the melee towards the first floor.

“Not a fucking chance” I hear him holler back in my direction.

The grin still etched on my face as I watch Dale push through the hallway crowd in my direction.

“There’s a rabbit in the hole” he offers looking a little dishevelled in his tuxedo that he believes institutions a vampire costume. I suspect it is a ruse just to look smarter than everyone else, especially given his only other addition are a pair of plastic fangs, that he no longer wears.

“There’s a what?” I raise my voice over the noise of the party and the loud music, conscious the Police have knocked on the door once already to register complaints raised locally.

Dale steps up alongside side of me, drops his head to my shoulder and clearly states, “There’s a naughty little witch waiting for you in the basement.”

“Cellar” I remind him, my first thought on his description being Jill Henderson’s outfit of choice. “You didn’t waste any time she only just got here.”

My grin and my comment is lost on Dale, I do not both to explain. For all we mock Dale he does seem to have an ability to attract women, his callous uncaring laid back nature seems to be an aphrodisiac to a large number of the female student community we live among. I’ve no doubt if he put his mind to it, he could Attract the calibre of Jill Henderson even if his wealth did not quite extend to that of a footballer’s wage.

“I changed the code on the padlock to 286,” Dale offers with a nod, “Go discover for yourself… I need a piss.”

Dale carries on in the direction he had been heading, I hesitate for a moment contemplating what he has said and the potential implications. Within minutes, however. I am spinning the dials on the brass padlock that prevents unwanted access to the cellar.

Entering the gloom, I pull the door closed behind me and slide the bolt lock of the door from rightto left. The first thing that strikes me is the welcome drop in temperature from the stuffy humid rooms of the overpopulated house. I take a minute as I stand at the top of the wooden stands that lead into the gloom.

Taking each step down into the darkness cautiously, taking deep breaths into my lungs. A sense of anticipation mixes with a sense of fear. Above me the raucous mix of sounds from the party our is still more than audible, the wooden floorboards above my head creak and strain and do little to block out raised voices on conversations that compete and lose out to the constant loud dance music.

At the bottom step I shiver not just from the temperature but as I turn my and cast my eye across the dark room and set eyes on her for the first time, whoever she is. There is a little pang of disappointment that the unknown female is Surely not Jill Henderson, not unless she has changed her attire and dyed her hair. Although not that even in my wildest dreams had I imaginened it would be her.

My breath is heavy in my lungs as I approach her, my eyes casting up her shaped toned legs as bent over locked into the device, she shifts her posture a little. Little black square heeled ankle boots scrape in the dusty floor her feet plant upon, her legs to her mid thigh clad in thick black denier stockings that reveal and inch or two of pale thigh before a black pleated skirt falls across her ass.

Set on the floor to the left is a small porcelain bowl. In it is placed a handwritten note that I instantly recognize as being dales handwriting, the scrap of cardboard is daubed with the words “Treat Her” and sits nestled among a number of silver foil wrapped condoms. It is only as I look up that I observe the clearly used condom hung over the right hand side of the wooden frame through which her neck and wrists are trapped.

I grimace a little as on plucking a condom from the bowl I step back up behind her, her shoulders rising and falling a little on her own nervous breaths.

As I run my hand slowly over my hardening dick through my jeans, I find myself questioning the morality of the circumstances as above us the party continues completely unaware of the dark little entertainment Dale has somehow managed to arrange. I can only assume that who ever she is she has consented to Dale’s proposition.

She holds herself up before me, she awaits me, she awaits the enforced submission that being placed on the grip of the macabre looking device assures.

My senses heightened as my free hand presses up her pleated skirt, folding it along her back to reveal she wears no underwear underneath the skirt, her ass as pale as her tights that meet jet black stockings.

Hurriedly I tear open the condom wrapper and slip the protection down over my erection as I havetily unzip my fly. Without consideration I press my hips forward and I press up against her. She tenses a little as I use my hand to guide my hard length into her.

“Time to go again” I hear her softly whisper. “Round two.”

Her choice of words surprises me as without reaction from her I feel my dick slowly gain entry into her trapped body up. She takes a long deep inhale, and I hear then an ever so subtle whimpers pass her lips. A whimper that forms into a predicted long gasp as I keep pressing my hips forward and she feels me slowly fully penetrate her, her body stretching around my dick as she is locked bent double in the wooden frame in the darkness. She feels impalusibly tight, the tension that she adopts through her body as I impale her only accentuates the sensing I feel.

Fully penetrating her I look across her shirt covered back noting the presence of a black bra through the garment. Unable to see her face I notice her fists clnch her fingers dig into her palms, her head rises on her restrained neck a little as she gasps on each gentle thrust I offer. Her breath is shallow and fast as I slowly run my hands over the soft cool skin of her waist. My fingers gripping her hips firmly as I slowly stir my own hips, looking down between us as I glimpse the base of my shaft slipping in and out of her parted legs which extend volunteer partily as I began to use her.

The device might offer her body perfectly to me, dressed up in the fancy dress costume, her legs are free though as she plants her feet on an even wider stand to accommodate me, as it dawns on me, she gives herself willingly despite having no idea who I am.

Starting to increase the pace my hips as I thrust on deeper quicker penetration. The circumstances spurring me as use I her for such a twisted purpose. In this moment she serves only one purpose, a physical one. Despite potential predicament she appears to be here of her own will, seemingly happily locked in the grip of the wooden stockade.

I can only begin to imagine the thoughts that race through her mind as she succumbs to me.

“Fuck” she whispers her wrists adjust a little in their restraint as I continue to use her prone body.

As I build momentum I keep fucking her with repetitive thrusts on a steady pace, feeling her loosen around me. Pressing deep in slow swirls of my hips, building a pace to only then ease off a little before concentration on further deep penetration of her tightness. The circumstances inspire me.

Her head drops a little lower, her breath rising and falling in intensity in parallel with my style.

As I still for a moment my hands press up from over her thighs slipping under her toned body as I slowly stir my hips, finding the top buttons of her shirt unbuttoned I press my hands into the cups of her bra and find firm round breasts as they hang beneath her. Toying and pulling at her nipples, which stiffen to my touch.

“Oh my god” she pants.

Not easing off as I appreciate her reaction as she clances tighter around me. I keep pressing my hips back and forth pressing her shoulders towards the beam that herneck and wrists dissect.

“I’ve never …I’ve never done anything …like this …before,” she offers up freely.

Verbally I do not respond I keep my silence unsure why I have adopted it in the first place. Other than to deliberately allow the ambiguity to puncture her mind as I keep my dick thrusting into her. Fucking her anxiously as I slip my hands back out from under her bra.

Pressing deep, offering a moments pause before without even considering my actions I reach over with my left hand and grab her blonde hair, pulling her head back against the wooden beam as she gasps in frustrated pleasure.

Unleashing. Pulling on her hair I fuck her passwordately, her panting recovering as I do the wooden device loudly creeks in the dark damp cellar over the noise of the party upstairs, the device apparently protesting under the momentum of my hastening use of her body which rocks back and forth before me.

Each thrust draws a gasp from her as I keep up a fast borderlineharsh pace.

“Fuck me…” she demands, “…oh Christ alive fuck me.”

My left hand reaches under her body once again slipping around and under her left tigh as I fuck her. Pressing with my middle finger I find her, bringing a fresh gasp to her lips and an enhanced pleasure tension to her body.

As my finger grazes my own dick pressing back and forth in her with a gentle touch I probe with my fingers, finding her, feeling her body react and the sharp intake of nasal breath.

“Oh.. ohh…ohhh myyyy” she gasps her words lost to her pleasure.

I keep fucking her as my fingers tease and seek to increase her stimulation against her restraint and her circumstances.

Within moments she whimpers and pants furiously. I keep my tight clutch off her hair, her head cranes back on the cusp of an orgasm as my middle finger glances furiously over her cliporis.

The tension that racks her body as held up in the contraction, wrists and neck immobilised by the wooden device she serves my need as much as I seem to serve hers.

“Cum for me… oh my god cum for me?” the toned anonymous blonde held before me implores, her words fading into another frustrated whimper that passes into frantic pained little breaths.

Her body clnches, tightening around my dick, I feel strands of her hair break in my hands as I keep her head pulled back.

Gasps of pleasure continue to pass her parted mouth as she seeks to keep up with the pace of my fingers and the depth and momentum of my penetration of her body.

A laboured cry not of pain but of despairing pleasure echoes around the dark cellar. I feel her climax as I fuck her, her body rigid as she absorbs the energy of my fuck.

Moments later from the unbelievable tight grip of her body around me I feel the need for my own release surge through my body, I attempt to hold off to prolong the intensity of this moment, but it is too late the clnch of her cunt around me proving too much.

“Fuck… Fuck…” I finally auditively offer.

My breath held in my throat, as I exhale, I relax my hips a little, dispersing the tension and feeling my seed release. My shaft fills with my ejaculate and as I press my hips forward, I sink deep into her still quivering body and fill the condom that separates us with a heavy deposit of thick ejaculate.

I let go of her hair. Watching her head drop as her shoulders rise and fall on heavy breaths.

Slipping from her immediately I step away. Briefly noting the soak that coats her inner thighs, a wetness that sees towards her stocking tops as I stretch and pull the condom from my dick letting it drop to the floor of the cellar.

“That… that…” she breathlessly, offers but seems unable to find the words she seeks.

Backing away into the gloom my eyes still set on her slender frame and her toned stocking clad legs I still cannot help but wonder who she is.

It only then dawns on me as turn and walk away to the bottom of the wooden staircase that she probably has the same thought process running through her mind.

************

A little after four in the morning I trust along the corridor from the kitchen to the front door that is left wide open, I am tired and feeling the impact of far too much alcohol consumed across the night that has preceded this moment.

The last of our guests heading off into the night around ten The party had died down considerably a little after half past midnight when the Police had entered the house a second time in as many hours following a complaint about the noise. The submission to killing the music had been hastily agreed to, much to the disdain of our guests and the accompanying cacophony of boos that followed the two officers, Only doing their jobs, out into the street as they had left.

The numbers of attendees seemed to dwindle almost immediately. The newly built houses on the opposite side of the street the likely source of the complaints, given that last academic year we had hosted eight house parties and never once received any complaints when the properties had constituted a building site. All the same everyone involved seemed to have enjoyed their night.

“Fuck the Police” I chuckle on entering the living room, or what constitutes the living room among the detritus of empty bottles, cans, and general waste.

“Yeah, but that’s two from two this year” Dale sneers taking a swig from a bottle of red wine, “Out new neighbors are quite obviously boring cuns.”

“True…” Dharmesh offers, “…but the ass on that brunette that lives opposite… fucking hell what I wouldn’t do to that.”

“Hot Wife” I offer the nickname we had christened her with shortly after discovering her existence. Finding an unopened and surprisingly still reasonably chilled can of lager sat on the arm of our sofa I take a seat.

“Betshe’d make some noise into the early hours without earning complaints” Dale chuckles, and to which Dale and I cannot disagree.

“Well, she’d probably have grounds for complaint if she was with you Dale” I deliberately goad “And might only be making noise for about three and a half minutes before you shot your load.”