Helen
- 2 years ago
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Helen… Ch. 11 free porn video
It was not too long before Harry found himself locked up in Martin O’Grady’s basement cellar for the second time. And big Mick and a hand gun was not the right person to argue with, as he sat watching him with a constant evil and cold stare.
‘Mind if I have a piss?’ Harry asked. Mick pointed to the stainless steel bucket in the corner of the freezing cold room. ‘Oh very nice. I see that everything I need has been taken care of. So, when do I get the pleasure of Martin’s visit?’
Mick remained silent and Harry made the best of the empty bucket. It was so cold, Harry thought it might freeze as he peed. ‘I suppose he’s busy with family, being Christmas Day and all that? And I can guess a Chinese guy such as you don’t mind working during the festive season?’ Again Mick remained silent. For the first time when Harry was picked up from the street hours ago, he realised that if Mick wanted to talk, he could.
‘I hope you’re not going to beat the hell out of my teeth again. I’m just about recovering from the last instalment.’ Harry held his bottom jaw as he spoke. ‘Big hitter, hard fist, much damage. Oh for fucksake Mick, why the silence. I know you can talk.’
‘I chose not to.’ Came back the reply. ‘So sit down and be quiet before I hit you again harder.’ His accent was pure local English. Although it did not surprise Harry. There were plenty like Mick in China town.
‘Look,’ Harry began to plead, ‘I didn’t steal Martin’s money. He’s got it all wrong. I’ve got a steady girl now and we are happy together. I don’t need this shit. You can understand that, can’t you?’ Mick continued his silent stare, unimpressed. And Harry realised he was not getting or going anywhere.
‘So, what’s planned for me? I can’t shit money I didn’t take.’ He sat down and took a long chug of the beer from the bottle provided for his refreshments. ‘A mince pie would be nice. I’m starving.’
‘Good.’ Mick replied. ‘Me too. Boss never gave me any food either. You have a beer.’
‘Look, you and I could sneak out and find a place to eat. The boss wouldn’t mind. You can bring me back later.’
‘No. The boss is on his way and he’s angry.’
‘Well that’s his problem. He could have picked a better day.’
Few minutes later the basement door opened and down the steps Martin entered in his festive white roll neck jumper and slacks. He looked as if he had just finished Christmas dinner with his family. He seemed his usual self, a smile and obviously an uncertain mood. Harry jumped to his feet to face his host. ‘Ay Harry, how’s your Christmas day going?’ Martin asked pleasantly.
‘Well it was until Mick here abducted me. All I wanted was a pack of ciggies. And if you’re going to ask about the dosh I was supposed to have purloined, I don’t have it and never did. I’m the wrong guy, ok?’
‘Don’t worry Harry me lad. I know. And I also know who stole it. Sorry about the beating you got off Mick here. I would like to compensate for damages if I can?’ Martin was too pleasant for the hard man he was, and still alive. Harry wondered when Hoffman was going to do the do. ‘I found out who it was. Someone you know I believe.’ Martin continued. ‘A man called Hoffman?’
Harry tried hard not to look surprised and cast his mind back to the suitcase of money half spent. ‘I’m not sure. The name doesn’t register with me.’
‘Come come me lad. You know this man well. He just cut my nephews’ throat a few days ago in front of his family. He told his distressed wife who he was and who arranged it.’ Martin pointed Harry’s chest hard with his finger. ‘He left a note too. Admitting he stole the money.’
‘Bastard,’ Harry exclaimed in a quiet voice. One to look sympathetic and another to express being annoyed at the dirty trick Hoffman pulled, landing poor Harry now firmly in the mess. Martin took the letter from his pocket and handed it to Harry.
‘Read the rest. I think you’ll find it interesting lad.’ Martin said, with a grin from ear to ear. Obviously Harry barely made out a few words. ‘He explains that he left an apartment and my money, waiting to collect the keys from you. So, may I?’ Martin held out his hand. ‘Please?’
Harry had to think fast…very fast. Handing over the keys to the apartment would put Saskia at certain risk, but the sound of Mick’s knuckles cracking was encouragement enough. He dropped the keys into Martin’s expecting hand. ‘Good lad. I’m keeping you here a little longer in the company of your best friend Mick. I know you two love each other so much.’ Martin said, turning to Mick with a grin. ‘I’m sending Shaun. He can check the place out. Maybe find my money’
She opened her eyes and threw back the duvet. Naked, she dashed to the bathroom to tend to her ablutions and afterwards noticed the door to David’s office was open. She could hear him downstairs busily preparing dinner and quietly made her way inside. There was an open note book on the desk, a kind of diary. She picked it up and began to read it. The last entries described what had happened earlier that morning. She read back, discovering snippets of more documented information and she began to realise things she never knew before.
Helen sat in the armchair with a glass of mulled wine whilst David continued to prepare their Christmas dinner of turkey and everything that went with it. The manor was warm enough for her to sit in panties and an open white lace shirt. Cosy. She felt at total ease with what she had experienced. She even began to enjoy David’s smooth jazz music which prolonged her feeling of tranquillity even after an early morning sleep and something she had accidentally discovered. David entered the lounge and looked at her with admiration for her youthful beauty and then poured himself a glass of wine from the terracotta jug. ‘Are you warm enough my love?’ he asked. Helen rested her head back and glanced at him through half open eyes and just nodded her reply with a smile. ‘Good. Dinner should be ready in a few hours.’ He raised his glass and almost in a whisper he wished her a happy Christmas for the umpteenth time that morning.
‘When are you planning to play with me again?’ she asked.
‘Play? I don’t call it play what we did. It’s more…’ He thought for a while. ‘I call it love.’
‘To be honest David, I don’t really love you.’
‘Oh I know that. Jack is the man in your life and I appreciate that.’ David replied.
‘How come you seduced him?’ she asked. ‘The act of homosexuality that I never expected between you and him?’
‘Best not go into that my love. I know it upsets you.’
Helen let the query go. She concentrated on the spiritual experience and something else that was on her mind that bothered her. ‘How did you learn how to do what you did to me? It was amazing, I admit.’
‘Well, it all began when I was a student many years ago. A keen interest in extreme lovemaking and BDSM. I made it my specialist subject when Marie and I got closer together,’ he felt comfortable with his explanation. Enthusiastic even. ‘We began to experiment and through that we both improved our methods over the years. I gave her that pleasure of reaching the ultimate spiritual high in orgasms and I loved to give it. Again, she had to submit to my demands. After all I was the Dom in our relationship.’
Helen raised a smile. Then she took a black diary from the side of her, hidden between the arm of the chair and her thigh. She threw it onto the floor and instantly David recognised it. ‘Where did you get that from?’ he asked. ‘That is a very private diary.’
‘I found it this morning on your desk. You left it out. You must have forgotten about it.’
‘Umm… yes, I think I did.’
‘Do you always write what you do to everyone?’ Helen asked.
‘Always.’ David smiled. Helen stood up, rested her glass on the low wooden table and gazed at him. ‘Does it bother you?’ He asked.
‘Well, kind of. What you did I can’t deny I loved every moment it lasted? Bu
t then I read a certain page marked by a slip of paper. The bit about you and your wife?’ she began to explain. There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone. David kept himself composed even though a secret had been discovered. ‘You actually killed her. You took her too far over the edge. It was no accident or natural heart attack. You wrote the whole thing down in every detail. She had a heart condition and she couldn’t take it. What did you call it? Death in extreme pleasure?’
‘That diary was supposed to be private, Helen my love. My notes.’
‘And your confessions of murder too. You said you couldn’t stop no matter how far her orgasm began to increase into a wild state of sheer ecstasy and beyond the spiritual level, that she became a spirit herself. You wanted it to happen. You wanted to kill her.’
‘No. It was an accident. Let us say an experiment gone slightly wrong. I suffered her loss. I loved her as I have explained.’ Helen looked at him with a grin. ‘It was just unfortunate. She was ill and I should have realised that.’
‘And then you began to seduce your students?’
‘In your case, you enjoyed my seduction.’
Helen walked away and up the stone staircase to her guest room, leaving David pondering what was going to happen now his written secrets had been foolishly discovered. The diary could open up secrets he did not want to be known, especially by the authorities. It also painted a picture of him that he wanted hidden. A cruel and devious pervert rather than a man who helped people discover their sexual limits. The diary also contained notes of seduction on young women, too young to even experience sex. And Helen browsed them enough that morning to discover who and what David really was.
There was now a dilemma. Helen was curious about her host and teacher. The perverted professor of psychology was beginning to open up her own thoughts about human psyche. The way people become freaks. But, was David really a freak of human nature? She needed to know more about this man and the only way was to stay as his guest and not run away.
At dinner the twosome company remained silent as they ate. David was an excellent cook and she was also hungry. Not for sex anymore, but food, wine and knowledge. Helen sipped her wine and placed it upon the table beside her. She could see that David was getting more and more nervous. He expected her to leave knowing what she had discovered. Once more he became the quiet almost stuttering man she had first met in the lecture theatre. Suddenly roles had reversed.
‘Why do you do these things.’ She asked. David looked up at her from eating his meal.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The kinky stuff? The young women, men and people like me? Is it a pleasure you get from it?’
‘Look, I don’t think we should talk about this anymore. How was dinner?’
‘It was scrummy yummy. I want to talk about these things…professor.’ She sent him a long smile, gazing across the table at him as she leaned her head on the palm of her hand, playing with the fork on her empty dinner plate, scraping it annoyingly.
‘I have an excellent Christmas pudding. Would you like some? And please stop playing with your fork on the plate, it annoys me.’
‘Then talk.’
David threw his napkin onto the table. ‘Look, if you are going to run to the authorities and report me it’s not going to work. I threw the diary onto the fire. It’s gone, destroyed forever. And why have you started to call me professor all of a sudden?’
‘Oh I’m not going to report you to anyone. I’m curious about you. You have become my subject. I intend to study you in many ways. Understand how you think.’ She explained. David looked at her as if she was being impudent. And she was. Despite the friendship they had developed, she was now determined to manipulate him to her favour.
That afternoon Shaun O’Grady made his way to the apartment. He drove through the town in his car. The streets and roads quiet and lit only by the street lights. Beside him was a street map which he gazed at now and then whilst tapping the faulty sat nav and cursing it. He was Martin O’Grady’s eldest son, taking after his mothers’ complexion with red curly hair. A true Irish Celt in every way.
Eventually he found the apartment and he checked the small calibre gun in the back of his belt, hidden but ready to use if need be. The elevator doors opened and he noticed the apartment number. With keys ready, hoping that the woman inside he was expecting had not secured it within, he made for the door. There was a choice. The use of a metal lock key or an electronic slash card. Again, he was in hope that either would work. Turning the lock he pushed open the door slowly and noticed Saskia immediately. She was tied up, knees close to her chin and wrists tied firmly, a black nylon stocking in her mouth used as a gag. She made warning noise as her eyes stared at with desperation at Shaun.
‘Well what do we have here then? Your boyfriend certainly is a kinky devil that he is.’ He walked towards her, but her warning muffled voice became more desperate. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ He said, holding out his hand. ‘Now I’m not that kind of person you know.’
The door closed behind him. Shaun recognised a click and he knew right away that someone was behind him with a weapon. He tried to slowly reach for his gun. ‘Don’t even think about it Shaun. If you move I’ll kill you,’ warned the voice. ‘Don’t even turn around.’
Saskia panicked, trying hard to scream out, knowing what was about to happen. Shaun raised his hands in resignation. ‘I don’t know who you are, but I hope you know who I am. If anything happens to me you’re in serious trouble that you are. So, stop this nonsense right away.’ Shaun said. ‘Put that fucking gun away and be a sensible chap now.’
‘You have no chance Shaun. You’re a dead man. The first of many it seems.’ The reply came from Hoffman who moved in closer. Shaun recognised the voice from a while back and began to laugh. To be honest, if Hoffman was going to kill him and he would not be the first. Only a few weeks ago Hoffman had killed Shaun’s cousin in a knife brawl. It seemed the so called contract was more than a contract now. ‘Your boss, your father stole my money. Not the other way around.’ Saskia was so distraught she urinated herself in sheer panic, bursting into tears and closing her eyes tight. There was a muffled bang and she felt Shaun’s warm blood hit her with clumps of brain matter. Hoffman decided to pull the trigger of his silenced gun and then his victims body fell at her feet. There was no stopping her stifled cries.
Hoffman lowered his gun and looked around. ‘It’s a good job the neighbours are out spending Christmas with their relations.’ He told her. ‘I hope you and Harry enjoyed your last day together this morning. Pity if you didn’t. Still this might be the right time for you and the little sneaky bastard to part company. Another one of life’s scum.’ He raised his gun again and cocked it. Saskia trembled uncontrollably knowing now it was her end. ‘Sorry to have to do this. You’re such a cute thing, but you’ve seen too much. I have a job to do. And I’m surprised you didn’t join Harry this morning. These complicated things happen and have to be dealt with.’ Hoffman explained, but little of his final words did not penetrate her ears. Her desperate cries and distress missed most of it. ‘I enjoyed the rape you provided,’ he continued. ‘You have a nice body and, well I was kind of desperate to fuck you. All I can say is thank you.’
Without mercy he squeezed the trigger and let out two shots. Saskia’s life ended quickly as one bullet hit her directly in the forehead, the second one directly in the throat. Hoffman was surely a cold blooded murderer, taking out even the innocent ones to cover up his moves without compassion. He looked at both victims and gave out a sigh. Both for relief and obvious sadness for a deed need doing. He hated killing women, especially those innocent ones.
His mobile phone bleeped unexpectedly. ‘Hello?’ The recognisable voice of the professor hit his hear.
‘I need your help Hoffman.’ David asked his favour. ‘I have someone who needs taking care of. A young woman. I’ll pay your rate.’ Hoffman sighed again. His list was growing larger including the innocent extras. ‘Well, can you oblige?’
‘Who is it now? Did someone upset you again David?’ He stepped back away from the trail of blood moving towards his feet. ‘Sixty grand on this one. I’m asking a top rate because I’m busy dealing with others,’ he replied. ‘Name and location?’
There was no doubts that Hoffman was getting busy.
Jeannie
- 04.01.2023
- 20
- 0
