"Stuart Hughes - Clock's Runnin, Mister" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hughes Stuart)

"Yeah ... I'm into bondage, but I don't top, I only bottom. All I want you
to do is top for me. Tie me up, beat me up, use ..." Without dropping eye
contact he picked up the holdall and tossed it to her. She caught it. "...
as many of those ... toys, I guess you'd call them ... as you like. Hurt
me. I'm dirt, a maggot, scum. Beat me. I deserve it."
She stared at him, trying to weigh him up again. She'd already
miscalculated once, what were the odds now? Jack was no under-cover cop
for sure, but was he likely to turn nasty? Did he really want her to top,
or was he just saying that?
"There'll be no risk for you. Absolutely none. And I'll pay you well. How
does a thousand bucks sound?"
Still she thought about it. There was always some risk involved. He seemed
a genuine enough masochist, and she had topped before, albeit reluctantly.
Tie him up, beat him up, tease him, grant his needs and drive him crazy.
She'd done it before and it was easy money. A thousand sounded great and
Angelo would know nothing about it. But-
"Fifteen hundred," she said.
He looked away, and this time she really did think she'd pushed it too
high. But this guy wanted it, he really did. He looked back and she knew
the bid wasn't out of the question.
"Fifteen hundred?"
She nodded.
"Fine," he said. "Deal."
She relaxed and sat down. She rested the holdall in her lap and unzipped
it. One by one she took out the contents and placed them on the coffee
table: a towel, sand paper, a candle, dog-grooming brushes, four sets of
handcuffs and keys, nipple clips, testicle clamps, a straight razor, a
leather ball-gag, a strap, a tawse, a paddle, a cat-o-nine-tails. None of
the paraphernalia surprised her.
"Okay," she said. "Money first."

The bedroom, like the rest of the house, was huge. There were two large
closets against the wall to her left, connected by a row of cupboards
across the top. In the middle, between the two closets, was a stool and
dressing table. An oval mirror hung on the wall above the table.
The four-poster bed took centre stage. It was made of oak and strange
gargoyles had been carved into the posts. She stepped nearer and let her
hand run over the carvings. The post was smooth and highly polished, but
the gargoyles were so life-like she almost anticipated being bitten. She
took her hand away.
Through the wall she heard the toilet flush. The basin taps ran for a
while, then stopped.
If curtains had hung round the bed he'd removed them. He had also stripped
away all but the bottom sheet.
"Outstanding," Jack said. "Isn't it?"
She nodded.
He was naked. His pubic hair was thicker and more profuse than the rest of
the hair on his body. She could see some yellow discolouration on his
chest and thighs, fading bruises from previous beatings. His penis was
dark, reddish and soft. He had been circumcised.