Come Into Darkness Read online

  Worth placed his hand over Mario’s and squeezed. Mario grimaced from the touch. Worth’s skin was dry as tracing paper.

  “Sir, you need a clear head for the events to come.” He sighed. “We cannot force you to do anything. The fun is to try something new and let yourself go, that is the key to happiness here at Metus House. You can wait in the booth until Miss Foster is done. What you do, or don’t do, is your own business. But sir?”

  Mario glared at him.

  Worth lifted a finger to his lips.

  In the silence, Kerry’s sigh radiated through the door of her cubicle. To Mario’s surprise, it stirred a twitch in his groin.

  “It sounds like you’re missing out,” said Worth. He winked. “Why not stay inside for a few minutes and think things over?” He bowed and as he walked back, gently closed the door.

  Mario stood still for a moment, listening to the sounds from the booth next door. He placed a hand against the smooth, cool surface of the partition wall. Nothing. No movement from the other side.

  Kerry moaned. The image of her thrusting against the moulding sprung into Mario’s head. He imagined her head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy, mouth a wide circle of pleasure. He grew harder, poking into the inside of his jeans. Checking the door was closed, he slipped a hand down the front, rearranging himself. His penis responded to his touch, standing fully erect.

  Wait. What’s going on here? It takes a lot to get me this turned on. Why am I so hard so soon?

  Kerry cried out, and the sound of her pleasure descended into a series of rapid moans. They rose and fell in breathy crescendo.

  She’s about to come. That’s what it is! She’s not acting and pretending to orgasm, while concentrating on her pout and leg positioning. It’s real. Fuck, how long has it been since I’ve made a girl scream without a director’s orders?

  He pressed his ear against the wall.

  Kerry whispered and pleaded between her moans, wanting it faster…harder…deeper…

  Oh God.

  Mario unbuttoned his jeans and yanked the zip down. Reaching inside, he flopped his swollen length free. He still looked on it with pride. Already a drop of pre-cum glistened on the tip of the head. Mario concentrated on the sounds from the next booth, and, licking his lips, he spread the first drop around with his thumb, lubricating the crown.

  “Oh…my…”

  Mario paused, listening to her. She released a choking splutter.

  Kerry?

  “Ahhh fuck!” she screamed. “Fuck, yes!”

  Mario closed his fist and slid it up and down his pulsating cock. His balls already seemed to have tightened at the base, pressure building.

  Kerry returned to her low moans and sighs. Mario guessed she’d orgasmed, but wasn’t satisfied yet.

  His penis twitched within his hand. He held it tightly at the base, enjoying the way it bobbed in the air, almost with a mind of its own, like it begged him to touch it.

  Not yet. I wanna enjoy this. Don’t need to shoot too soon.

  He glanced at the moulding.

  No. Not yet.

  Kerry cried out again, riding the wave of her second climax.

  Mario peered down the funnel, into the dark hole.

  Is someone moving in there?

  He pumped his fist a few more times and massaged the underside of the head with his fingertips.

  “FFFFuck!” cried Kerry.

  To hell with it. I’ve done worse.

  Mario dropped his jeans and kicked free, still in his shoes and socks. Over at the moulding, he eased himself inside. He placed his hands against the wall in front and leaned forward.

  Suddenly panicked, he glanced around the booth and ceiling, searching for any hidden cameras.

  If they think they can film it and blackmail me…

  Kerry screamed her loudest yet.

  “Oh Christ,” Mario moaned. His balls throbbed, eager to spill their load. He tried to remember the last time he was this rampant and in dire need to orgasm. “Come on!”

  Something touched him.

  Mario shot back, his penis sliding free of the moulding. He peered inside.

  The hole remained vacant.

  Get a grip, man. If you don’t do something soon, you’re spending the rest of the night with an aching sack.

  Slowly, he re-entered the moulding, poking his dick through the hole.

  Something tapped the end of his penis.

  Mario gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to back away. He imagined a girl on the other side. Not the typical big breasted blonde in revealing lingerie that most men fantasised about, but something more unique. A girl who still held that spark for him. A virgin. Young and dressed in a plain skirt and white blouse. The thought of peeling off that blouse and exposing the small, pert breasts underneath brought the tightness back to his testicles. She was behind the wall, and had dabbed the tip of his cock to take off the bead of pre-cum. She held her hand up to her mouth and licked the stickiness from her fingertips, tasting its forbidden sweetness for the first time…and then…she leans down…her face inches from the throbbing member poking from the hole…

  Mario closed his eyes. The images ran through his head in slow motion. He watched the girl, her mouth opening wider and wider until…

  He looked down. Her mouth had become the gaping hole he impaled. Warm, unseen lips closed over his head, sucking it as a child sucks on a lollipop. Mario gasped and struggled not to shoot from the long desired attention. The lips, wet and slippery, moved higher up his shaft, taking in every exposed inch.

  Mario squeezed his fists and pressed them against the wall. His muscles bulged and his buttocks clenched. His prostate pulsed, warning of its imminent squeeze.

  “Not yet…” he moaned. “Oh please God, not yet.”

  The mouth travelled further still.

  Mario had received more blowjobs than most, but only a few had reached this calibre. He longed to see the person, male or female, that could deliver such pleasure in the simplest of ways.

  A tongue lapped at the tip of his aching cock, and the lips pulled back, sliding over the shaft of flesh, leaving the skin wet, cold and tingling. The second the mouth reached the end, it shot straight back up to the hilt.

  “Christ,” Mario screamed.

  On command, the mouth pumped up and down. The lips tightened around him. The tongue worked into a frenzy.

  Mario grasped the moulding with both hands. His knuckles blossomed white. He pounded his hips back and forth with his mystery player’s motion. Like hot mercury, he felt his heat climb higher and higher until-He cried out, his dick pulsating and spraying its seed in abundance.

  His legs trembled and threatened to give way, but he held onto the moulding, leaning over it.

  “Christ,” he said again. A warm fuzzy sensation spread through his balls. He felt one last miniscule spurt escape him. “Christ.”

  He fell back. His penis, still hard and glistening, slid free.

  Out of breath, Mario leaned forward and stared into the hole. Again, something moved on the other side of the wall, the darkness hiding it from view.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “Oh God, thank you.”

  He straightened up and leaned against the side of the cubicle, head tilted upward. Breathing hard, he sucked in the cool, sweet air to the depths of his lungs. He moaned, content for the first time in years.

  4

  Mario opened the cubicle and walked back out into the corridor. Kerry, fully dressed, waited with Worth, and they quietly chatted. They both stopped and looked in his direction.

  “Well, well,” said Kerry. “Looks like someone had a change of heart. Told you it was a highlight.”

  Mario cleared his throat. “What makes you think…?”

  “Come on,” said Kerry. “I think the whole building heard you. Christ! Don’t stop! It does kinda take your breath away on your first run.”

  Mario looked over his shoulder at the open cubicle and the moulding inside. “Who’s in
there? My agent might be interested in signing them…”

  Worth coughed. “As mentioned previously, sir, all tastes have been catered for here.”

  The image of the girl danced in Mario’s head once more.

  Could she really have been in there?

  “Now that we’re in a calmer state of mind, let us proceed. Miss Foster, as you are the old hand at this, may we begin with you?”

  She beamed. “Definitely. I’m desperate to see what you have lined up after last time!”

  Worth nodded and with military precision, turned on his heel and proceeded up the corridor, leaving a musty smell in his wake. Kerry followed behind, and Mario walked by her side.

  “So you’re into all this then?” he said. “I can imagine. High pressure job, letting off steam and all that?”

  She side-glanced at him. “Hardly. I love my job, relish it even. This here…this is just incredible. I’ve travelled the world you know, and nowhere offers anything like this…”

  Mario held out an arm to block her way and slowed his steps. Kerry glared at his outstretched hand, but she also slowed to keep pace.

  “And what exactly is this?” he asked, voice low. Worth, despite his shuffling gait, had walked on some way. “I mean, my agent arranged this for me. I didn’t know what to expect. I still don’t.”

  “You should lighten up and thank your agent,” said Kerry with a smirk. “You think too much. Let me see. You have an agent and think too much. And you said you’re an actor. Interesting…”

  “How so?”

  “I’d have you down as a writer type, but you’re too young and have a dumb face. Ten years later and a pair of tiny spectacles and you’d suit one.”

  Mario snorted and watched Worth’s shuffling progress for a second.

  “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he said. “I’ve met people with the same stupid opinions, but never anyone so damn sure of themselves.”

  She flashed him a cold smile, like a cobra about to strike. “I didn’t get this far by not being sure. I’m a queen among maggots, Mario. Don’t forget that.”

  He laughed. “There’s that high opinion again, sweetheart.”

  He chose his words deliberately to watch her face sour. It worked. The girl in her mid-twenties transformed into a bitter old woman for a second.

  “Don’t you think the same, dear Mario?” she asked after a moment. “Don’t you believe you’re a prince among men? An actor among the cleaners, rubbish collectors and burger slingers of this world? I’ve touched power, and you’ve tasted fame. Doesn’t that make us better?”

  Mario thought back to downstairs: the party, the dancers.

  Peasants.

  “I suppose it does.”

  “Then we’re more alike than you first thought. We were both drawn here. If this place can make me happy, it can do the same for you.” She quickened her strides, stilettos thumping the plush carpet.

  Mario kept up. “But what comes next?”

  He noticed that Worth had stopped at the end of the corridor. It branched out in a t-junction. Worth waited patiently in front of another door.

  “He said it’s my turn first,” said Kerry. “Watch and learn. If you have any questions, just ask him. He’s not that bad a guy, you know. Very good at his job. Very professional. I’m sure he’ll answer all of your queries.”

  “You’d think so,” said Mario, approaching the old man. “But all I seem to get is riddles.”

  “All part of the fun.” Kerry stopped and gazed at the door behind Worth. “This it?”

  Worth bowed, the gold key on its chain already dangling from his fist.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” said Kerry. She smiled. “Open it up!”

  “Very well, Miss Foster.”

  Worth turned and placed the key in the lock. He twisted the delicate metal, and the door creaked open.

  “Oh my God,” said Kerry and stepped forward. A red light shone on her face, creating the illusion of deep sunburn. “This is incredible.”

  She walked inside.

  Mario stayed still and watched her vanish inside. “Worth?”

  “After you, sir.”

  Mario took a tentative step forward. “Are…are you sure?”

  “Certainly,” said Worth. “You’re sharing your experiences tonight. Maybe you can understand a little more about each other as a result.”

  In the red light, Worth’s moustache, bushy eyebrows and chaotic hair appeared as flames.

  I’m talking to the Devil.

  Worth edged back, out of the lava glow, and returned to a muddled, dusty old man. Chocolate-brown eyes surveyed Mario.

  “Sir?”

  “Okay.” Mario walked into the red light and over the threshold.

  “Isn’t this just amazing?” said Kerry.

  Mario stood in a girl’s bedroom. The walls were pale blue, mostly covered in posters of the Backstreet Boys. Various forms of makeup covered the top of a dresser, and the mirror above contained photographs of smiling teenagers poked under the frame.

  Kerry sat on the purple sheets of the bed, clutching a stuffed bunny with floppy ears to her chest. A red-shaded lamp on the bedside table cast the angry scarlet light.

  “They’ve created everything perfectly! Even Milo here.” She hugged the toy harder and breathed in deep through her nose. “Smell that? It brings back such memories! I used to burn lavender-scented candles in here.” Her smile faded. “Mum hated it though.”

  Mario paced the room, taking it all in. He stepped around discarded shoes and clothes on the floor, even a dirty plate and a half-filled glass of Coke. A TV played in the corner, volume switched off, showing the highlights of a football game, the FA Cup final, Mario guessed. He’d watched the match that afternoon in a bar on Tottenham Court Road, and had barely paid any attention to the game, instead contemplating the coming evening. He approached the muted television and read the subtitles. Arsenal had beaten Newcastle by two goals.

  Wait. They didn’t even play! What the hell?

  “I can’t believe it,” said Kerry. “Look at all my old stuff! Last time was great, but this? Look at the detail!”

  Mario faced the centre of the room. “Kerry? What is this?”

  She cried out in glee. “It’s my room!”

  He walked past the bed to examine a bookshelf. It contained row upon row of thick textbooks. “Looks like you’re a busy girl.”

  Kerry flopped back on the bed. She closed her eyes and grinned.

  “I still lived here while I was at university. Mum never…well, she was ill and there was no one else to look after her, so I stayed here. It helped. Really. No temptation of parties and hangovers. No. Just work. Work and my mum.”

  “I see.”

  Mario approached a pair of thick blue curtains that nearly reached to the floor. He paused and contemplated pulling them apart. He concentrated, filtering out the gasps of wonder from Kerry. He almost heard birds and traffic far away…

  No. There can’t be a window! This place is like a hotel, and a window would look into the room next door.

  He raised his hand and flexed his fingers, inching closer to the curtain.

  No.

  He turned away.

  “All the things I left behind are here,” continued Kerry, enchanted. “Look!” She slid a hand under her pillow and removed a small, red book. “My diary! How did they get this?”

  “The television,” said Mario and pointed. “There’s something up with the television. It’s showing the wrong game. Arsenal didn’t play Newcastle in the final. Is this on DVD or something?”

  Kerry, flicking through her old diary, glanced up.

  “Arsenal must have played Newcastle, Mario. Maybe just not today.”

  Mario frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, this is 1998.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “1998? God.” He watched the TV for a moment. “They have gone into some detail.”

  “It’s what we pay
for,” said Kerry. “Authenticity.”

  “I gotta say, this isn’t the kind of place I could see you living in.”

  “I was twenty-one, I think. I was a different person back then. Kind of sheltered, you know? All because of my mum. I never…” She replaced the diary back under the pillow. “I never really got out much.”

  A set of bookshelves drew Mario’s attention, and he walked over to them to study the titles. The thick volumes covered every aspect of business he knew and more.

  “Looks like you worked hard, but didn’t play hard,” he said. “That explains a lot.”

  “I said you’d understand me better after this. Now be quiet. I think things are about to begin.”

  “Begin? What do you mean?”

  “Look.”

  Mario followed her pointed finger to a white door on the far side of the room. His heart stepped up a gear.

  “Wait,” he said, walking towards it. “That…that wasn’t here!”

  He held out a hand.

  “Get away from it,” she snapped. “This is mine. I can’t have you interfering! I think I know what they have planned…”

  Mario ignored her and grabbed the door handle.

  “Get away,” cried Kerry and jumped off the bed. Her shoe collided with the plate and glass, which toppled and spilled Coke across the carpet. “Move!”

  Mario touched the cold brass of the handle.

  This door wasn’t here. Doors can’t just appear. Did they spike our drinks?

  That’s what it is. Olly promised me no drugs, and I’ve been spiked!

  I’ll kill him.

  A blow thundered against the other side of the door. The handle shook in Mario’s hand.

  He let go and jumped back. “What the hell was that?”

  “I told you,” Kerry screamed. “I told you not to interfere. Get away!”

  Mario staggered back into Worth, who had crept silently into the room.