Speaker 1: So before we enjoy this story together, let me ask
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journey to ultimate pleasure begins. Hies Devlin, and welcome to
another episode of Wild and Bead, your Monday night destination
for salacious stories, sensual satisfaction, and finger licking good fantasies. Now,
just as a warning, tonight's story it's very dark. There
is a strong element of BDSM, so please, if you
aver fragile disposition, you have been warned. Now you know
this podcast is best enjoyed laying on your bed. Just
put your earbuds in and close your eyes and surrender
to the pleasure of my voice moving over and inside you.
And when you're ready, just go ahead and take a
deep breath and hold it for a moment, let it
go with a sigh, letting go of any tension, any stress.
For the next thirty minutes or so, it's just you
and my voice. This is your time, your time to relax,
your time for sensuous satisfaction, your time to release that
in a woman as you listen to my voice. Yes,
and feel the story moving through your body as you
enjoy tonight's show. Abigail Harper sat in the darkness alone.
She had followed up some pretty strange leads, but this
had to be the weirdest so far. A breeze caresses
around her, as if a door had been silently open
somewhere in the distance, and then just as quickly, the
breeze is gone, and in the darkness, she can see
green eyes studying her. Somewhere from the shadows, a whisper
and merges, we have found the man you seek. Was
it a whisper? Did she hear it with her ears,
or did the words just appear in her mind? I
have no idea who you mean, she said, defiantly, you
know exactly who we mean. Four hooded figures separate themselves
from the shadows, from their silhouettes. Abigail guesses they must
be human, but something about them doesn't quite hold with
the concept of human. Devereaux, the voice continues, He is
here in the city, smiling, Abergail says, what is your
interest in him or me? We have history with Devereaux.
It would suit us if he was no longer here,
if he was no longer anywhere. Waiting for a moment,
Abigail considers whether these humans might actually be worse than Devereaux.
But no, She knew that Devereux was a man that
tortured and murdered her to insist her he was a demon.
She knew of whatever these things were, they had never
caused her any pain. So right now they were friends,
or as close to friends as she might ever find.
In a situation like this. Okay, tell me more, She utters,
repressing the earth to sound at least happy. There is
a file on the table in front of you. It
tells you everything you need to find him. Before the
words have entered her mind, Abigail notices a manilla file
on the table that she had never noticed before. In fact,
she couldn't remember recalling seeing the table either. Thank you,
do you want to report back? We will know the outcome,
voice said flatly. Remember Devereux is very old and very cunning.
You will have to push yourself to the limits and
possibly beyond them, to complete your task. Do not rely
on garlic or crucifixes. You must drain him of every
last remaining drop of blood. But first you must set
your mind, and this might help you to do that.
Without warning, a clamping sensation fixes around aber Girl's head,
as if a large hand were clasping her temples, and
then a flash of green light blinds her before it recedes,
fading back into the darkness. And then there are no voices,
no figures in the shadows, just Aber Girl sat in
the dark, once again, alone with the beginnings of a
fucking migraine. Fucking weirdo, she says, as she stands to
leave sat in her car and begeul stairs at the
aging eyes in the mirror. Determination was one thing she
had always had plenty of, but there was always a
price to pay for it, and she was looking straight
at it. The flecks of gray in her hair seemed
to be spreading. The wrinkles that she once passed off
as laughter lines were now etched caverns on her delicate
porcelain skin. The stress of obviously pursuing her sister's killer
for years was written across her face, not to say
her body. The athletic frame she had once been so
proud of now sagged in all the wrong places. The
long hours meant that the gym had become a forgotten luxury.
Her growing cynicism at the world at large had created
a trail of feld relationships. This wasn't a goal, It
was a curse. God, what was she doing forty two
years old and about to walk into the den of
one of the most notorious suspected murderers in the city,
A man she knew had been responsible for countless brutal murders,
A man that held a vice like grip of fear
over the city. A man known for his treatment of women,
his tortures, passions, a man who murdered her sister, the
owner of Prerogatory nightclub, a den of inequity. Of ever
there was one specializing in bedism, parties, and god knows
how many other sinful activities. A man that the cops
could not get a single lead on. A man that
no one seemed to know anything about. He had no history,
no friends, nothing. It was as if he had just
appeared one day, set up a club of perverts, and
become disgustingly wealthy. Lifting the Manila file from the passenger seat,
Abigat stared into the emerald green height of Devereaux, or,
as he called himself now, Luca Mallam, and they stared
right back at her. The notes from them had said
he was seeking an assistant after his last one had disappeared.
Is she really going to do this? Could she follow
through the same fate as her sister? Since meeting whatever
they were a dream to become haunted his black hair
that always seemed to be unkempt, his trimmed beard, and
those lips. Somehow, even when he smiled, there was always
a tint of cruelty to it, yet she found them
so damn sexual. Her eyes drift closed as the dreams
returned to haunt once again, the burning sensation of his
beard along her thighs, his teeth biting at that sensitive flesh,
Images of her yielding pain flooding through her body, turning
to a beautiful ecstasy under the heat of his cruel touch,
being tied up, bound and flogged, yielding to his desires,
letting him decide her guilty pleasures. Her eyes open suddenly,
aware of the first avalanche of pleasure moving through her body,
her skirt around her waist, her hand rubbing furiously at
her throbbing clt Oh, God, Abigail moans loudly as her
body arches in an intense orgasm. She had no idea
she was bringing on, pouting hoarsely these strange, dark fantasies
of plate has since she met with them every night,
hounded by the desire to submit, to be punished, to
be tormented. Why, she didn't know. She had no idea.
These desires had never occupied her mind before, but right
now they were all she could think of. But she
was here to do a job, find a way to
kill this son of a bitch, and finally, maybe she
might get some rest. Abigail tries to ignore the trickle
of dampness caressing her thighs as she adjust her wet
panties and straightens her skirt. Stepping out of the car,
her legs shake a little as she stands, the feeling
of standing in heels unfamiliar to her, now forcing a
harsh side from her lips. She reminds herself, I'm here
for one thing, nothing else, stealing herself to the legendary
charisma that was merely feet away. Grabbing her resume made
from the car, perfectly written for the vacancy of personal assistant,
Abigail takes a deep breath and walks towards the gothic
doors that mark the entrance to Purgatory Nightclub, staring for
a moment at the hideous gargoles that seemed to see
straight into her soul. As she lifts her hand to
pull the bell cord, she expects a resounding bell chime,
maybe a large gong. What she did not expect was
a small, embarrassed tinkle. Somewhere in the distance. Innutes passed,
not a sound from behind the hideous wooden doors. Suddenly
panicking she might have the time wrong, Abigail retrieves herself
round from the depths of her purse. Nine fifty five am,
checking her schedule. Yep, the appointment was for ten am,
so the role of assistant probably didn't mean a lot
to him, but she thought he might have had the
manners to turn up to the interview, Watching the time
ticked by on her phone. Ten am. Okay, she was
going to sit in her car and give him fifteen minutes,
and then she was definitely going back home and blowing
off this waste of time. Screwed, Luca Mallam, screwed whatever
they were, This was obviously another bum lead. But she
would find him and she would kill him. Obviously not today,
but she would. Fumbling for her keys in her purse,
her mood did not approve as they fall toward the ground.
Suddenly they were suspended in mid air, floating on a
strong hand, long fingers clasped around them tightly. You should
be more careful, miss Arbah, a voice says, next to
her ear. It must be next to her ear. She
knows it must. She can feel the heat of his
breath caressing her skin in such a filthy way, but
the sound, and the sound wasn't coming through her ears.
That sound was grasping her breast, pinching her nipples, and
sliding with vicious determination down her stomach and clutching her
pussy so hard it forced an audible gasp from her lips.
Get a grip, Abigail, It's just a voice, a voice
that belongs to a normal man with green eyes, dark hair,
and those lips. Another gasp betrays her thoughts. Abigail pushes
her fingernails viciously into her palm as she clenches her fist,
forcing her if to regain control. As she turns on
the hill, defiantly staring into those eyes, ignoring the wildfire
burning between her thighs, and says, mister mallam, I'm glad
you could make it, even if you are a little late,
smiling as warmly as she dare. His lips twist, eventually
transforming into a beautifully cruel smile. And this is why
I need an assistant. If I could make sure my
sorry ass was everywhere it was meant to be when
it was meant to be there, Miss Harper, then we
would not be speaking right now. Placing the keys in
her hand before guiding her back towards the doors to Hell,
his hand pressing on the small of her back in
a possessive way, the pawd of his thumb pressing in
just such a way to keep all her hotspots well
and truly inflamed. Pushing the door open, which, surprisingly for
such a large door, it made no sound at all.
Luca guided her along the corridor, releasing the pressure on
her back when they arrived at a small door in
the paneled wall. Careful as you walked through, it's dark
and there are stair straight down, he whispers. So close
to Rea, she could feel every nerve trembling in anticipation
that he might actually kiss her neck. Desire blisters up
her back at the caress of his breath, the heat
of his body burning through her shirt, sending waves of
erotic anticipation, rushing up and down a spine. Cursing herself,
she needs to shut these unwonted desires from her mind.
Where the fuck did they come from? She never even
imagined anything kinkier than giving a blowjob before she had
met whatever they were. Now, her mind was constantly flooded
with such dark desires things she could never even have
contemplated before. Her body ate for these painful delights in
such a way that she just didn't know what to do.
When they reached the bottom of the stone steps, he
guides it to a seat on one side of a
large wooden desk while he sits on the other side,
studying her for a moment. He eventually asks, you know
what sort of club we are? The entertainment we provide, yes,
her voice stumbling over the sudden images flashing in her mind. Good.
It saves a lot of explaining, he says, before standing
and walking around the desk. Follow me. Standing and following
him through a pair of heavy velvet curtains at the
rear of the room, Abigail is stunned by the various
bondage and torture devices that lay beyond. My customers come
here for a show, he says, smirking little, and I
like to give them one. His fingers linger longingly on
a metal bar of one device. This is an air manacle,
for example. It is so simple and yet so entertaining.
So tell me, miss Harper, have you ever been manacled?
His green eye is fixing on hers, as if he
was staring into her soul. The imager rubs in her
mind of being manacled, a being flogged, of being fucked
so hard she can barely stand. No, No, I haven't,
Abigail whispers, her mouth dry from the desire pulsing between
her thighs. His gaze holding hers, he whispers, but you
want to. I can smell how much that idea turns
you on. That cruel smiler rubs over his lips as
he moves closer to the bar. Try it, miss Harper,
he says, smiling as if knowing his words are to request,
but a command that she cannot deny without knowing why.
She suddenly finds her wrist pressed against a cold metal
as it swings another bar over secure as the manacles closed. Slowly,
walking behind Abigail, he leans in so close she can
feel his cold breath against her neck. Darkly, he whispers,
I can read your thoughts. You know, I know why
you are here. He pulls hard on a rope and
the manacles rise high in the air, pulling Abigail off
the ground. Fear burns for her body as she suddenly
realizes how vulnerable she is trapped by this murderer. How
could she have been so fucking stupid. Yet even as
that thought RUPs in her mind, another one floods over it,
the thought of being flogged. While she hangs here, a
being fuked, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Of the torturous delights this man was an expert in
her pussy defiantly begins to weep her pleasure, the warm
caress of a desire, tracing a li hind down her thigh,
moving her hand inside her shirt. His eyes glare a
terrifying mixture of green and red as he rips the
material and casts it to the floor. Her breast exposed
to the cold air of the cellar, her nipples force
and to painful peaks, the desire burning through her body,
making them make even harder. Plucking one finger on the
front of her braw, he whispers, such beautifully formed, petite breass,
Such a shame to hide them behind the lace. Another
harsh put in her brass snaps painfully across her back. Slowly,
looka traces a fingernail around her breast. The sharp pain
is now punctuated by the wildfire moving through a pussy. Slowly,
he traces a single fingernail down her stomach under a
stinging caress. Her core clutches, her pussy throbs in anticipation
of where that finger might go as he finds a
waistband to a skirt, fingering it while he holds her gaze.
With one sudden movement, he snaps her waistband and her
skirt falls to the ground. Grinning maliciously, he watches her
face for a moment, watches her reaction as his hand
traces the line of her panties, realizing how embarrassingly wets
she is as his fingers traced between her thighs and
caressing the soft material of her lace, before sliding back
up to her waistband, again, sliding one finger inside, he
rips her panties off with another sudden movement, her pussy
pulsing violently as the cold air bites at her clent.
She is suddenly aware of how naked and exposed she is,
and how it turned on she is by the whole
idea of what he is doing. Where did these salts
come from? Where did these desires? These needs? He turns
and grabs the leather strap from the side, strapping it
tightly around her ankle. He pulls it so it snaps shut,
fixing her leg out at an awkward angle, and then
the other leg to another strap, her pussy exposed to
the air to this man before he returns to the
rope of the manacles and lowers her a little, then
tightens a rope of the feet, suspending her so she
is now almost horizontal in the air, so prone, so vulnerable.
Desire courses through Abergil's body as she realizes he can
do anything he wants to her right now and she
can't stop him. Or goes silent for a moment before
Abigat is shocked to feel the biting sensation of a
flogger against her thigh, its coarse straps biting at her
sensitive skin, her pussy responding in a beautiful symphony at
the wave of wildfire moving up and down her body. Again,
another thrash of the flogger, this time on the other thigh,
her body feeling like electricity is burning through it, every cell,
every fiber tensing in pleasure. As he moves around behind
her head, pulling her hair down, he whispers, I know
exactly why you're here. She moans loudly from pleasure in
pain as he pulls her hair and Suddenly she feels
the tip of his hard cock teasing between her lips,
pushing deep into her mouth, the very tip of it
pushing at the back of her throat, forcing her gag reflex,
her body tensing with the pleasure coursing through her. Why
the fuck will she enjoying this so much? Why did
she feel on the very edge of coming just by
having him fuck her mouth so hard? As he pushes
deeper and deeper into her mouth, stretching her lips around
his girth, she can feel him swelling, throbbing even larger
in her mouth, pulsing as the first drops of pre
comb drop into her throat, And then suddenly he withdraws,
stepping away. He walks around her, moving between her thighs,
teasing his cock along the lips of her pussy, forcing
a loud mourn of desire from Amber Girl's lips. Suspended
in air, she can offer no resistance. It's no assistance
as he hammers a heart thrust into a pussy, his
fingers reaching around her nipples. He grasps her breast hard
as he pulls her back into each and every thrust,
fucking her deeper and deeper her body Like some mechanism,
just fucking his hard cock, and she feels her body
trembling already, her thighs tensing. She can feel her or
guess him and why why is she going to come
so hard when he is doing nothing but torture her,
The sensations moving through her body burning like a wildfire
as she feels his cock swelling inside of her, her
lips stretching around his girth as he growls deeply within
his chest. His body tightens in hers titans in response,
her pussy clutching at his cock, needing to come, needing
that satisfaction she has needed since she first saw him. When,
with the explosion of his cock inside of her, she
feels her body trembled in beautiful or chasm. Her head
rolls back, feeling his warm cum pulsing inside of her pussy,
her own body trembling in the cool of the air,
with the waves of pleasure moving up and down the skin.
He withdraws seems to be pulling something heavy across the
floor before he returns to her head. I know exactly
who you are, miss Harper, and why you are here,
he whispers, before releasing both ropes. Abigail falling winding herself
as she lands hard on metal bars. He slams a
cage lid shut over Abergil's bruised and sated body. Clicking
the lock shut, Luca turns and strides towards the velvet curtains.
Glancing back, he snarles, I just haven't decided what to
do with you yet, so for part two you'll have
to wait till next Monday. It gives you a nice
little teaser of what's to come. How will she escape
a metal cage? How will she get away from and
kill the man that's killed her sister already? Well you'll
have to wait till next week to find out. So
I look forward to seeing you again. We can get
wild and bad all over again, but for now and
always with your pleasure in mind. This is Devil in Wild,
wishing you salacious dreams. Display and pat into the atticate
aductates at a technical tactics