Part One: The Seduction
In our serial sex thriller, a repressed reporter discovers a taste for the wilder side of life.
When Jessica Rutledge got her nose in a story, nothing would distract her until she got to the bottom of it. She was the best reporter at the Back River Herald, and she had the awards to prove it. Back River was the cesspool of Baltimore – old, gritty, and smelling of sewage and dead fish. Unemployment was high due to the Eastern PointCar Plant shutting down a decade ago. The people of Back River lived in a time capsule, trying to stay in a bygone era when jobs had been plentiful, families stayed together, and murders were rare.
My, how things had changed.
Jess had sunk her teeth into one of the most unusual murder cases Back River had ever known. Three bodies – two female, one male – had been found floating in the river. Their blood had been drained. Each body had a red glo-stick around the wrist; the admission symbol of a Red Light party.
Everyone had heard of Red Light parties, but Jess could find no one who had ever attended one. They were advertised by WhatsApp or word of mouth. They were held in abandoned warehouses and squats. They were havens for all the vices – alcoholism, drug addiction, unprotected group sex, S&M, physical violence, public masturbation, golden showers. But the only evidence that they existed was the red glo-stick. Everyone knew someone who knew someone who’d been, but that was all. Stories. Rumours. Urban legends. Nothing more.
Jess was determined to get to the bottom of these parties, mainly because she was fascinated by them. Focusing all her energy on work meant Jess’s sex life was uneventful, to say the least. When she had one of her occasional liaisons – usually with a married or otherwise unavailable man – she often barely noticed her lover thrusting inside her because her mind was far away, concerned about her laundry, or a paper that was due next week, or wondering why she was wasting time dating someone she could never have.
One time, one of her fucks had got overly excited and held her down roughly as he thrust in and out of her. As he came, his full weight had fallen on her, his sharp elbow bruising her breast. Although struggling at first, the feeling of powerlessness had made Jess’s head spin. It also made her pussy throb in a way it had never throbbed before. Alone later, Jess had masturbated while fantasizing about being chained and fucked by multiple men, legs spread, wrists and ankles to the floor. She’d never considered these ideas before, and they scared her. Afterwards, she’d tried to forget it.
How could she get to one of these parties? Although she barely admitted it to herself, she was using the possibility of writing an article as an excuse.
Contact
Her phone vibrated with a message. She knew before she read it that it was from Eric. Ever since she’d started making enquiries about Red Light parties, she’d been getting the texts. His name was all she knew about him.
The message said, “Back River Post Office. Box 214. 5 – 26 – 33. Wear red.”
She drove to the post office. In the box, she found a letter in a red envelope, and a red glo-stick with a wrist fastening. Her heart raced as she opened the letter.
“I’ve been watching you for some time, my love, and I have found your past articles on Red Light parties to be amusing… because you know so little. I want to show you what it’s really all about. I will take exquisite care of you. Nothing will happen that you do not consent to. Be at 33 Exeter Street tonight at midnight. Wear the glo-stick. It is your admission ticket. I have also sent you a few packages. You’ll know what to do with them.”
It was signed, “Your love, Eric.”
Jess felt cold. Exeter Street was in the ‘murder mile’ of Back River. It was not a safe place to be at any time, let alone midnight. But she wanted to go. Very badly.
At home she found three boxes, nicely wrapped in shiny red paper, sitting next to her apartment door. How did Eric get past the locked front door? Her heart thumped as she ripped at the boxes to open them. The first held delicious black stockings with seams, a crimson garter belt, and a luscious crimson and lace push-up bra in the right size. When had Eric watched her to guess her vital statistics?
Inside the second box was a beautiful crimson mini-dress made of the softest silk. It was so slick and shiny that it looked like red water cascading over her arms as she held it up to the light.
In the third, smallest, box was a collar, and cuffs for wrist and ankles. Black leather, studded with iron, with a small but sturdy padlock on each. They didn’t look like the kind of gear you’d get as a joke. They looked serious.
Jess’s heart raced. Did Eric know about her bondage fetish? Would Eric use these to hold her somewhere? What would he do to her? Her heart jumped as she wrapped the collar around her neck. She pushed the boxes out of the way, and lay face-up on the bed, one hand on the collar, the other between her legs. Her pussy warmed up. She was getting wet, excited and terrified at the same time.
As she showered, rubbing scented gel on her skin, Jess imagined Eric’s hands rubbing her body, bringing the blood to the surface. Would Eric be gentle or rough? She shaved her legs. She shaved her pussy. She wanted to be bare for Eric. She rubbed her fingers between her legs to make sure the hair was gone. She felt the heat there, slipped her fingers between her swollen lips, and felt the wetness. She rubbed her clit, and her knees nearly buckled.
Murder Mile
There was no way Jess was leaving her car in Exeter Street, so she parked it in a nearby car park and then walked the last few streets. The halogen lamps she passed had been shot out by guns. She heard a television playing in one of the decrepit homes. A young female face peered out of a broken window. An older male face, presumably the child’s father, glanced at Jess. He pulled his daughter away from the window, and yanked down a stained, yellowed blind.
Jess began to shake, either from excitement or from the chill in the damp night air. She shook off a little frightened voice that told her to get the hell out of there. She walked faster. As she turned the corner onto Exeter Street, her legs actually shook, making it harder for her to walk. Terraced houses gave way to abandoned warehouses. She looked for street numbers, but could not find any. Finally, she saw number 33. It was a huge red brick monstrosity, with wooden boards covering more than half the broken windows. Rain poured from waterspouts carved to look like devils.
At last, she found the front door. As she stood before it, silence greeted her up and down the street. Was there really a Red Light party here? She heard the nearby church’s bell toll for midnight. The tolling sounded grim as it echoed up and down the deserted street. This was her last chance to leave, that little voice inside her head told her. Leave now, while you still can.
She snapped the red glo-stick on her wrist. She pulled the brass knocker on the door. Now she had done it. A small door at eye-level slid back. A pair of eyes encircled with dark eyeliner peered at her, glancing briefly at the cuffs around her wrists, the collar around her neck. The look was suspicious.
“I’m here for the, er… party. I was invited. Is Eric here yet?” Jess’s voice sounded so nervous that she was embarrassed. The door closed in her face. For a moment, she feared she had been turned away. Then, she heard deadbolts clicking back, chains loosening, and the doorknob unlocking. She grasped the doorknob in her hand, and twisted it. The door opened to a smoke-filled light show. Jess held up her arm to show the lit red glo-stick.
“Eric sent me. My name is Jess,” she said.
“Ah, Eric’s been talking about you for weeks. It’s good to finally meet his new choice,” the man at the door said.
“His new choice? What you do mean?” Jess asked.
“It’s best to let Eric explain himself. I must say that you are the finest one to come through this door in a long time.”
Jess was confused by what he meant, but the smell of clove cigarettes floating around her head took her mind off his comments. There was also the smell of incense and sweet sweat rolling off dimly-glimpsed, frantically gyrating bodies. Jess walked inside.
Scene
Those bodies weren’t dancing. They were making out. Several nude men groped on a pile of large throw pillows. They had the most magnificent bodies that Jess had ever seen. No body like that was created in a gym or with steroids. Jess stared at their broad chests and six-pack stomachs as their strong hands kneaded each other’s bodies.
Two women explored each other’s mouths with their tongues while their long fingers brushed against bare breasts and nipples. One of the women emerged long enough to take a breath from kissing, and she glanced at Jess. Jess realized with embarrassment that she had been staring at them. The woman grinned at her, and winked. She then went back to her lover’s moist mouth. Jess suddenly felt very hot. She wiped sweat from her forehead with her bare hand. A man and woman rubbed against each other in time to the trance that played on loudspeakers. The man squeezed the woman’s left breast so hard that Jess felt as if his fingers had pressed against her own breast and left a bruise. She rubbed her legs together to stave off the hot wave she felt in her c**t. She decided to throw herself into that crowd and get lost. She felt hands brush against her body. Against her back, her breasts, her arse and her thighs. Jess welcomed the eager hands. She moved her body so that the crowd could easily feel her. She liked the long fingers against her breasts and her arse. The revellers smiled at her as if they knew her. A few blew soft kisses against her long black hair. The touches were like electric shocks. She did not feel mauled at all. It was as if each person knew where her most sensitive erogenous zones were, and their fingers found their way to her hot spots. She felt light-headed from the urgent beat of the music and the rumbling of her racing heart.
Jess’s attention was drawn to a group of beautiful men and women crowded around a large couch off to her left. Sweaty men and women piled at the base of the couch on large pillows. At first they ignored her, but slowly, one by one, they turned to look at her. They did not stop their groping and touching. The one closest to Jess had thick red hair down to her bare waist. She wore only black leather pants. Her full breasts bobbed up and down as she rode the bare leg of a muscular yet feminine woman with a tattoo of a rose on her upper arm. Rose Woman lowered her full lips to Redhead’s hard nipple. She rolled her tongue over that nipple, making it turn purple. Jess couldn’t take her eyes off of the two women. She shifted from one leg to the other, feeling her pussy heat up and melt. Redhead winked at Jess, who quickly lowered her head out of embarrassment. Jess couldn’t resist watching, though.
Muscular hands grasped Redhead by the hair, and turned her head away from Jess. An angular male face emerged from the crowd to press his lips against Redhead’s throat. Fascinated, Jess stared at the pulse she saw beating beneath Redhead’s sweaty skin. She wanted to run her tongue along Redhead’s throat and feel the urgent beat of that pulse against her hot lips. What would her sweat taste like?
The man unzipped Redhead’s leather pants from the back. He lowered her pants, and Redhead shook them off. Sweat glowed on her long, lithe body. The man’s body was rock hard. Dark hair covered his chest and arms. A gold ring pierced his left nipple. Jess’s eyes wandered from his broad chest to his erect dick, which was thick and nearly ten inches long. Maybe it was his muscular body that made his dick look so big. He glanced at Jess as he licked his fingers, and then used his hands to spread Redhead’s arse cheeks apart. She curled her back to receive him. Slowly, he pushed his dick into her arsehole. Jess’s arse puckered as she watched. Did the man invite her to join them? Fascinated and aroused, she watched but did not move towards them. She wanted to feel that thick cock inside her. She shifted from one foot to the other to allow her hot, moist pussy some breathing room. Her breath came out in bursts. The man thrust inside Redhead, who craned her neck and let out a moan much too deep for a woman. She tossed her hair aside, and smiled at Jess, who felt her face turn red, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of them. She wanted to peel off her clothes and run her hands through Redhead’s hair while the man shoved his dick deep inside her. She had never had anal sex before. Would the man’s huge dick hurt as it went in? Redhead enjoyed herself. Jess’s arse puckered as she watched the man slowly thrust his dick in and out of Redhead. She wanted to immerse herself in that writhing crowd and lose herself.
Jess stood very still and stared back at them. She felt very hot, very aroused, and very alone. Unable to move, she stood motionless, like a deer caught in a car’s headlights just before being mowed down. She stood and stared until the crowd divided like water, and a man emerged alone.
He was the most luscious man Jess had ever seen. He was over six feet tall. Everyone in the pile craned their necks to stare up at him. Redhead, Rose Woman, and the man reached for him. Their fingers brushed against his strong legs. He wore tight black jeans that enhanced every curve on his lithe, athletic body. A loose cotton shirt covered his broad chest. He wore his shoulder-length, thick, blue-black hair in a long sheet. His skin was the color of café au lait, and his eyes revealed Japanese ancestry.
When he reached Jess, the man held out one perfectly-manicured hand, and stroked Jess’s cheek. His fingers were cool to the touch. Jess felt those fingers move over her skin like an electric shock. Without thinking, she tilted her head into that inviting hand, wishing for more touch.
“Hello, Jess,” the man said in a deep voice as thick and warm as honey. “My name is Eric.”
In Part Two: Jess discover’s Eric’s dark secret.
