Moth to the Flame

Not being one to leave a good plot-line alone, I offer you the sequel to "Play to Lose". As before, the story is rather long so I will post in several parts over the coming days. I hope you will enjoy.

Best regards,

The Scribbler

***

Suneha stepped out of the Tube station into the evening air. The weather had turned cooler over the past few days and she had needed a coat when she left home this morning, but the Tube was warm and now she carried it over her arm along with her bag. Walking slowly eastward along Oxford Street, almost oblivious to the peak hour crowds that swirled around her, she accidentally bumped a stocky older woman in a tweed hat and coat. She woman glared at her. Suneha mumbled an apology and walked on.

Her head was filled with the images, the sounds – and the shame – of her last visit here. It was only a week ago, but it seemed like a lifetime of humiliation as she had relived it over and over in her mind in the intervening days. She had debated incessantly with herself over whether to come back at all, but here she was. She did not know how she would face the two women who had humiliated her, how she could look them in the face remembering what they had done to her and knowing that they knew her secret shame. The thought terrified her, but she remembered what the older woman, Christine, had said to her; “I might have to send Amanda around…” Thinking of that girl coming into her home, and what she might do there, had forced Suneha back here.

She lifted her head, set her jaw determinedly and increased her stride. She wore her long hair down as she had done all week. She had phoned in sick on Friday but even after the weekend when her swollen lips and other injuries had healed, the bruise below her left eye had still been visible. Though she had covered it with makeup and it had faded over the course of the week, she had worn her hair down around her face to partially obscure it, which had drawn some covertly admiring glances from the men in her office. That made her smile to herself, and she flicked her head, tossing the thick mane of her hair back from her shoulders.

She glanced at her image in a shop window as she rounded the corner into New Bond Street. Her habitual work attire of black satin skirt and crisp white silk blouse accentuated her long legs and svelte figure as always, but today she had taken extra care. Her pencil skirt was a little longer than usual, its hem half-way down her calves. She had checked her clothes and makeup in the ladies room before leaving her office and had opened one more button on her blouse, revealing the gold coin pendant that hung around her neck. She wore a wide stretch belt that pulled her blouse in tight at her waist and emphasized her jutting breasts. Her black patent leather pumps were perhaps an inch and half higher than normal, showing off her shapely calves and the curve of her bum beneath her skirt. She flashed herself another brief smile, satisfied with her appearance.

A blue Vauxhall nosed out from between two buildings and she stopped to let it pass. Glancing momentarily down the alley, her mind leapt back a week to when she had stood in the darkness in a similar alley just around the corner, chained to a rubbish bin by a collar and leash, wrists bound tightly behind her, her back hung round her neck. Hurting everywhere, bleeding from her mouth and nose, she had nevertheless been so aroused she could barely stand. Even now she blushed as she remembered how she had tried to rub her aching thighs together to assuage her perverse desire. She pushed the shameful thought from her mind and walked on.

Her feet grew leaden as she approached her destination, a hundred unwelcome images crowding into her mind. What would she say? What would they say? How could she bear to look them in the eye? She forced herself to push the door open and step into the boutique.

Amanda, the petite but rather buxom blonde who had beaten Suneha so badly a week ago, was sitting at the antique writing desk that served as a counter, staring at a computer monitor. She looked up as Suneha entered, and a mocking smile spread across her face. “Oh look, our favourite customer’s back.”

Suneha walked up to the desk. With an effort, she managed to look Amanda in the eye. The girl’s face, immaculately made up, bore no trace of the damage Suneha had inflicted on her. She was dressed all in black as at their last meeting, though the scoop-necked jersey dress she wore today exposed a considerable amount of cleavage. “I’m here for my blouse,” said Suneha coolly.

The girl did not get up from her stool behind the desk. “Yeah, I thought as much,” she said, her accent pure Cockney now, with no trace of the elocution it held when they had first met. She held Suneha’s gaze and her smile widened a little. Suneha felt the blood rising in her cheeks. “Chrissie and I had a little wager on whether you’d come back for it. She thought you would. I said you didn’t ‘ave the nerve, so now I’m out ten quid.” Her eyes narrowed for a moment but then her smile grew even wider. “Of course, it could be that a skanky pain slut like you just doesn’t ‘ave any shame.”

Suneha’s shoulders tensed but she held her temper as fury and terror warred within her. She hoped the girl would not notice her trembling. “Well,” she demanded, “are you going to get it?”

Amanda raised her eyebrows. “I seem to remember that Chrissie told you to be more polite to me.” The smile did not move but her eyes narrowed again. “I don’t think that was very polite at all.” She stared at Suneha for a moment. “Why don’t you try again?”

Suneha bristled, but she noticed the tension in Amanda’s shoulders. The girl was a coiled spring and a tremor of fear coursed through Suneha. She sighed and struggled to keep her voice level as she asked, “Please…Amanda…will you get me my blouse?”

The girl tilted her head back, considering Suneha’s request with mocking deliberation. “Nope,” she said at last, “that was definitely not sincere.” She thought a moment longer. “I think you should get on your knees and ask me really nicely.” Her scornful smile grew broader still as she watched Suneha’s fury battle with her fear. “Unless, of course,” she added slowly, “you’d like another taste of last week.”

Suneha stood rooted to the spot, her lips clamped tightly together. She wanted to scream, fly at the girl and tear the smug smile from her face, but she dared not. Amanda gave a soft chuckle. “What am I thinkin’? Of course you do.” She sighed theatrically and then sneered, “Makes it bloody impossible to threaten you lot”, managing to inject bottomless depths of disdain into the phrase ‘you lot’.

Renewed shame joined the war of emotions in Suneha’s head. “Well?” asked Amanda quietly. She held Suneha’s gaze and her eyes spoke volumes. Suneha finally blinked and looked away, down at the desk. She swallowed hard, put down her bag and coat on the edge of the desk and slowly stepped around the desk until she stood in front of Amanda, who smiled up at her derisively.

She bent, lifting her skirt above her knees and, never taking her eyes off the younger woman’s face, dropped first one knee, then the other, to the carpet. ‘All the way down,’ warned Amanda sternly and Suneha sank back until her bum rested on her heels. ‘There, that’s better. Now, you were saying?”

A tear of anger and shame escaped Suneha’s eye. Feeling it trail down her cheek, knowing she had betrayed herself, only added to her humiliation and she stifled a sob. Grinding her teeth, she managed to get the words out. “Please…may I have my blouse?”

Amanda chuckled. “There, that’s much better,” she said, tilting her head mockingly to one side. She rose from her stool and stared down at Suneha, standing so close that Suneha had to crane her neck to look into the girl’s eyes. “I’ll just go an’ get it then, shall I?” She walked over to the doorway that led into the back room where…Suneha pushed that thought from her mind. Amanda drew the curtain aside and then paused, turning to look back at Suneha. “Oh, and get up, dear. You look ridiculous.” She disappeared through the doorway.

Suneha put one hand on the corner of the desk, rose to her feet and walked back around the desk. She shook with anger, not at Amanda but also at herself for enduring the girl’s taunts without retaliation or even compliant. Her hands were balled into fists and she did not trust herself to pick up her bag and coat in case she dropped them. She wiped her tears carefully with one hand and waited in seething silence.

Amanda returned with a stout white cardboard box in her hands, and placed it on the desk. “Here we are,” she said breezily, with no trace of the ridicule with which her voice had dripped just moments ago. “Let’s just make sure everything’s in order, shall we?” She slipped the lid off the box and unfolded the white tissue paper beneath to reveal the silk blouse. “That’s the one, isn’t it?”

Suneha needed only the merest glance. “Yes,” she confirmed softly, “that’s the one.”

“Well that’s fine then.” Amanda went to refold the tissue paper over the blouse and then stopped. “Oh dear.”

Suneha looked at her. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh nothing important,” Amanda assured her. “There’s just a thread hanging off one of the buttons.”

“That’s all right,” Suneha replied. “I’m sure I can – “

“No, I can fix it” Amanda interrupted her. She reached over to the far corner of the desk and drew a pair of dress-maker’s scissors from a caddy that held pens and other items. “Hang on.”

She lifted the front of the blouse in her fingers and snipped delicately at a button. “Uh-oh.” She lifted her eyes to Suneha’s and held up the button, which she had just cut from the front of the blouse. “Look what I’ve gone an’ done.” All the disdain flooded back into her voice. “Pity.”

Suneha’s rage overcame her fear in an instant and with an animal growl she lunged over the desk. The fingers of both hands snared Amanda’s hair over her ears and Suneha jerked the girl bodily off her feet and over the desk, ignoring the agony in her still-tender stomach muscles.

She meant to slam Amanda’s head down on the desk but the girl thrust her arms out and absorbed some of the impact with her hands. Nevertheless, her momentum carried her over the desk and Suneha side-stepped as Amanda hurtled face-first to the floor, landing in an ungraceful tangle of limbs that exposed a lot of thigh and a pair of black thong panties.

Suneha aimed a vicious kick at Amanda that connected hard with the girl’s bum and she groaned, grabbing her left buttock and rolling away, holding her face. She came to one knee, reaching out for the desk and Suneha kicked at her again, crying out as she put all her strength into the kick. She aimed for Amanda’s ribs but the little blonde pulled herself back at the last instant and the toe of Suneha’s shoe slammed into the underside of her left breast. Amanda fell backward but kept going, her momentum carrying her feet over her head so that she ended up on her knees.

The girl came to her feet effortlessly, even in her high heels. Her left breast had popped free of her low-cut dress but she ignored it. She stared at the blood on her hand where she had clasped her face. “Shit,” she said matter-of-factly. “What the fuck is it with you an’ my fuckin’ nose???” Glancing down at her feet, where a hand-sized bloodstain marred the cream carpet, she added, “Oh, and now there’s blood on the carpet. Chrissie will have a fuckin’ cow.”

She took a step toward Suneha who instinctively stepped back, swinging her arm up at the girl’s bare breast. Amanda twisted her torso, caught Suneha’s wrist and reversed her grip, wrenching Suneha’s arm up behind her back. She grabbed a fistful of Suneha’s hair in her other hand and threw her backward to the floor. Suneha lay still for a moment, winded by the heavy fall.
Amanda stood over her and stared down into her eyes, blood dripping from her nose onto her chest. Her one exposed nipple was flushed pink and erect. “Bitch, you have got to learn to fight better,” she noted with a deep breath, “or else learn to hold your fuckin’ temper.” She wiped the blood from her nose with the back of her hand. “Now this,” she said as she stepped astride Suneha’s torso, “is for last week,” and dropped her knee hard into the pit of Suneha’s stomach. Suneha’s head and feet whipped upward off the floor as the impact tore the air from her lungs.

The little blonde back-handed Suneha across the mouth before she stood up. Suneha lay gasping like a fish out of water. With an effort she managed to move one arm to cradle her injured belly, and rolled away from Amanda onto her side. Amanda aimed a precise kick at her kidneys but Suneha lacked the breath to scream.

The girl let Suneha lie there for a moment before she bent and grabbed another handful of hair in one hand, and the back of Suneha’s stretch belt with the other. Hauling Suneha upward with a savage, sudden jerk that drove the newly returned breath from her chest yet again, she pulled Suneha half-way to her feet.

“It seems,” offered Amanda, “that you need another, tougher lesson.” With that, she hurled Suneha through the curtained doorway into the back room.

END OF PART ONE