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The Bully Part 2

... the message and leave me alone...he was the bully and I was the k**.
We wrestled..he grabbed and ripped my shorts...I tried to do the same to the
ripped ... ... Continue»
Posted by john1195 4 months ago  |  Categories: First Time, Gay Male, Masturbation  |  Views: 1225  |  
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Getting back at the bully

Hi, my name's Rose Marie, and though you may have already guessed, I'm a hermaphrodite. Don't let that fool you though; I'm not some wimpy little girl. I'll admit I can get a little rough, but I can be laid back too. I just turned 17, and just like a lot of other people, the good 'ol hormones are ragin, but I do a lot better job of hiding them from most people, when I want to that is....

I'll be a junior in high school this year, I’ve had a mostly quiet summer. I have dark red hair, I put some white streaks in it with one of those hair styling kits, I’m not trying to be the center of attention, but I like how the white streaks look. I let my hair grow out like I wanted, it’s all the way down, just past my hips, I think it’s cool. I’m actually somewhat skinny for my age, but I’ve got some muscle though, nothing crazy like a body builder, but I’m not a stick figure and my arms aren’t twigs. While I have quite a few friends; I also have some enemies, too. Some of those enemies I've managed to turn to my side though, a couple were, how should I say.... sexually enlightened? To start off, I'm not a violent person, but I'm not about to let anyone have power over me.

Last year around the end of the year, I'd had enough of this annoying bitch Lizzie. Every opportunity she got, she'd harass me somehow, whether it was simply tripping me in the hall, or name calling, or even throwing stuff at me when no one was looking. So the day before this year started, well every year before the first day, all the students get to roam the halls and just explore. Find their rooms, meet their new teachers, or say hi to old ones. My ex-boyfriend and I are still good friends, so I asked him to dig up some info on Lizzie for me. When he asked why I simply said "Because I'm going to get that bitch back for everything she's done to me..." Normally Jack was more of a pacifist, which simply meant if he could 'avoid' a fight, he would, but that didn't meant he 'couldn't' fight. I've seen him tear up his fair share of bullies, which is mainly why we became friends in the first place, whenever I had a guy messing with me, he'd use his size and strength to get them to back off. However, he'd NEVER hit a girl, well, aside from his s****r, but they were little back then. He just said ok, and went digging. It was only 9 in the morning the day before the start of the first semester when we met up again.

Standing a solid 6 feet tall, I'm 5'9", he had that usual satisfied smile, the one that he always had the moment he saw me. Not many girls are lucky enough to have a guy who's just happy to see them. I saw he also got breakfast from the McDonalds he works at on the way here; he would get a sausage egg mcgriddles and a medium coffee, 2 cream, 1 sugar. And he'd get me my favorite, hotcakes and sausage.

"Morning!" he said as he handed me the hotcakes. "Morning." I said back. We sat at one of the lunch tables then he started telling me about the 'info' he went digging for, I'd almost forgot. "Ok, so most of her classes are going to be on the 3rd floor, starting with Mr. Weaver's at 10. Next she'll head for the gym for softball practice, if you want to catch her; you'll have to nab her just after she leaves Mr. Weaver's. If you can keep it fast and quiet, you'll be in and out like a ghost." (oh he has no idea) I was wearing my favorite pair of jeans and a long sleeve bathing suit, firstly because the admin board approved of the addition of a pool next door to the gym (my idea, thanks for listening people! finally...) and secondly because I could move quickly and quietly, that and I was planning on going swimming anyway, my breasts are only size 34b, I really don’t think massive tits are that attractive, I have however been caught once or twice with hard nipples, I tend to daydream when I’m not focused, and 9 times out of 10 I’d be imagining having sex, or watching a porno in my head. I’m quiet though, I’m like a statue when I daydream, so thankfully I’ve never had one of those embarrassing moments where I’d be up on the desk air guitaring to AC/DC in my head... yes I’ve seen it happen. I was wearing my favorite jeans since that's all I really ever wore, the fabric felt nice against my legs, I've actually gotten quite a few hard-ons from it, I also had my hair back in a pony tail. Jack was wearing his usual; a white t-shirt with a cotton tank top under it and blue jeans with a shiny new leather belt. His hair was somewhat long too, just past his shoulders, he almost always had it tied back, and under his favorite ‘Coka-Cola’ hat "Thanks, you always take care of me." He just smiled at me, and then he had a straight face. "I know what you're going to do, (what the hell? how did he figure that out?) I know because of what you're wearing." I couldn't help blushing. "Just, don't get caught." dammit, my whole body might as well have been red...

"Anyway, I'm gonna get started, and I'll catch up with you later." He smirked and stood up to leave. "Ok. Thanks again." I checked my watch, it was a special made Red-chrome Rolex Jack got me for my birthday last year, it still had the etching in blue on the back- "Always here for you- Jack" That's why I still love him, he always knows what to do, what to say, although, it doesn't always go well, he sure means well. So it’s 9:30, alright, I'd better hurry...

I sprinted up to the third floor, having spent most of last year in our ROTC class helped me build some muscle, not much, I have a 6 pack, but other than that I have a somewhat small frame, it doesn't show but I could bench 200 easy, which shockingly isn't even a dent compared to Jack being able to bench 680, damn.... he's like a 21-Ton Giant in human form. As I got to the third floor I looked around, most of the rooms have been re-arranged from last year, why the hell do they do that anyway? Well at least nobody's around yet. I ran toward the girl's restroom, lol at least they can't move these! Bingo! - Just down the hall was Mr. Weaver's room, and they didn't move his. I moved toward the air duct just between them.

As I got closer I heard footsteps coming for around the corner at the end of the hall, "Time for my small frame to pay off!" I thought. I jumped to the wall closest to the air duct and grabbed the old bar that used to hold one of the security cameras last year, (yeah I pay attention to a LOT of details) as I grabbed the bar I swung myself up into the air duct 'CLANG!' as I flew in I almost panicked and dropped the cover, but I got it back into place quickly enough. Just In time to hear a voice that was familiar, "What was that noise?" AHA! It was Lizzie. Right on schedule. "Whoops! My bad!" Wait Jack's up here too?! Aw jeez... I could see most of what was going on through the cover, I saw Jack, and he was walking toward the end of the hall carrying a large steel plate when Lizzie noticed who it was. "Hey there, sexy, so when are you going to take me out on a date?" WTF?! She's always trying to ask him out, but luckily, "Uh, how about never?" he-he, that's right, no guy in his right mind would want you! "Are you sure you don't want some of this?" She grabbed her crotch and 'tried' to grab his, but he stopped her," Uh no, the last poor bastard that did wound up in the ER downtown...” I had to grab my mouth to keep from laughing out loud, I was almost in tears at the next sentence, "Wait, what poor bastard?" She said trying to sound cute, I just rolled my eyes. "Oh, you know, Steven Hawking..." I almost lost it, "Hey, he learned, now he's one of the smartest men alive." like I said I was almost in tears. Anyway Lizzie scoffed and stomped away, "You know one day you'll get over that bitch and you'll want me...." yeah, sure.... "Yeah, I'll be over her, and want you to get out of the room! HAHAHA!" that's my Jack.... comedian in training.

After Jack went down the nearby stairs, Lizzie went into the bathroom. "Alright, it's showtime..." I mumbled to myself as I moved down the air duct until I was over the sink in the girls restroom, there was just enough space for me to crouch. As I heard the door open I moved back from the cover and carefully worked off my new tennis shoes, then my jeans, then I took the electrical tape out of my jeans pocket, Jack works on cars, he told me that electrical tape is a better option for medium to long term use. I moved back over the cover to get quite a surprise, Lizzie was in front of the mirror, had her pants off, she had her right leg up on the sink and was fingering herself, in front of her own reflection, I couldn't stop my erection, I was already dripping pre-cum.

She started to mumble, "I just want a nice person, with a nice cock. Why the fuck am I such a bitch to everybody?!" I eased the roll of tape over my wrist, quickly opened the cover, jumped down, and in the blink of an eye, I already had her hands bound and some of the tape over her mouth. "It's funny you should ask that, Lizzie..." The look of shock on her face just screamed 'WHAT THE HELL?!' I caught a glimpse of my own face in the mirror, damn, am I that terrifying? Well, if you take into account that I just snuck up on the biggest bitch in school, almost like I'm Sam Fisher... yeah. I couldn't see my own eyes because of how my bangs were hanging just above my eyes, and the dim lighting, awesome. I hiked her up with her belly on the sink and pressed her face to the glass, I spread her legs as wide as they would go, and just let her feel my hard-on, I could feel her wet pussy through my bathing suit, and her heart was pounding so much I thought she might have a heart-attack. "You know, this is an awesome opportunity bitch... you want a nice hard cock, and I want to know what a nice tight pussy feels like. (I'm actually still a virgin, even though most people think Jack and I have had sex on multiple occasions, even after today, I'll technically still be considered a virgin, because I haven't had sex in my vagina before, I tried to see if I could stick my own penis in my vagina sometime back, but it wasn't big enough, even then it would only be considered masturbation) She started crying, but I felt nothing, "What's the matter? Isn't this what you wanted? Well I'm not a guy, but if you'd been nice to me in the first place, I'd have been open to doing this the right way, you know." I moved the slip of my bathing suit to the side, and pressed my shaft against her, then I leaned up to her ear and whispered, “And guess what, it’s real!” at this point she was almost literally crying a river. I heard her trying to mumble 'No, please no!' I just looked back up into the mirror, "Now why the fuck should I listen to you?" I crossed my arms over her butt and started to grind my shaft along her pussy. She tried to scream 'I'm sorry, please!' I whipped her around and kept grinding between her legs, her pussy was soaking wet, and so was mine. "Oh, you don't want this? But you're all wet for me..." I ripped the tape off her mouth, still sobbing she whimpered, "No, I want it, so bad... please just don't **** me!" I almost lost it, "And you honestly expect me to listen? After all the shit you've done to me, I oughta make you blee---" she jumped in "I know, I'm sorry, I don't have any other way to say it, but I'm sorry, I've been so mean to you..." I was trying to get my sanity back, "And why the fuck is that?" I placed the tip of my penis against her pussy, she started talking faster almost like she was afraid to scream for help, which is a good thing because if she had, half the people on this floor would have heard and we'd both be in really deep trouble. "I was jealous...” I wanted to know a little more, so I put a little anger in my voice, “Why? What on earth are you jealous of me for?” she was still sobbing a bit, “You've got every guy AND girl in the school looking at you, it’s like you're just naturally that fucking attractive, and I was just so jealous." I was a little surprised, that many people think I'm attractive huh? I calmed down a bit, but my penis was as hard as steel 'I' beam. "And? That's you're excuse?" she stopped crying for a moment, "Not just, I'm bi, I've had the hots for you since the first moment you walked in the building, everyone did, but when you started dating Jack, all the guys started thinking they could scare him off, while all the girls kept trying to mix around their schedules to just be in the same classes so they could talk to you. Why do you think Jack got into so many fights last year? Both our star quarterbacks were in the hospital for broken ribs and the coach was f***ed to forfeit a few games until they could either play again or find new players." I smiled, "That's my 21-Ton Giant alright..." then Lizzie looked up from my penis, "And then there's you..." I was annoyed again, "What about me?" She had a straight face for all of two seconds that immediately turned into a frown, "Every guy wants you but can't get near you, every girl can get close enough, but they feel they can't say anything. You have the figure every girl in this damned place would kill for, the Giant of the school is you're ex boyfriend, and we all want to know why the fuck did you two break up? And now, here you are, and 8-inch throbbing cock aimed at my pussy, the somewhat twisted fantasy I've had since the first time I've met you, is right in front of me, and it’s not even completely how I wanted it---" I had to stop her because she was raising her voice, so I clapped my hand over her mouth, "Ok, so why couldn't you just talk to me?" I moved my hand away and she started sobbing again, "Because I'm a little afraid of you..." wow, that's unexpected... "I mean, look at how you just snuck up on me like that? What the hell are you the daughter of Sam Fisher?! You even had the sole intent of r****g me so violently' I'm sure I would have woken up in the stall with a puddle of sperm dripping from my pussy, like maybe 7-8 girls who found me, and then the whole school finds out I've been ****d, the entire time everyone's under the impression that you and Jack are just wandering the grounds. I'd be humiliated, and you'd have gotten away with it simply because the god-damned medical community is so slow, hermaphrodite sperm can’t be traced! Yeah I want you to fuck me, so bad, but I don't want it to go that way..." (Wow, psychic much?)

Now my heart sank... "Well then, if you ask nicely, we can do this right, AND STOP TREATING ME LIKE SHIT!!!" I mumbled angrily. Lizzie modded and stopped crying as I untied her hands. She immediately kissed me like we were lovers, wow, amazing how a little brute f***e can change someone huh? "Ok, please, take my virginity, Rose?" now it was my turn to be shocked. "Wait, you're a virgin?" She nodded, "Yep, I've only ever used a vibrator, I found the one you kept hidden in your gym locker- (oh son of a bi--) - but I kept it a secret." thank god, wait... "You used my vibrator? More importantly you went through my locker?" She just nodded again, "At the time I was so turned on by the idea of you using it just after me, I couldn't stop myself." I smirked, "You pervert...that's kind of hot actually." She kissed me again; I was still right up against her pussy so my new erection spoke for itself. "Ok, as long as you're not a screamer." I whispered, she giggled, "Sure as hell not in here..." then I thought for a moment, "Wait, not in here, it’s a little grody, now that I think about it.... let’s go to the teacher's lounge on the 4th floor." with that I put my cock away as Lizzie put her pants back on. I jumped up to the air vent and reached in to grab my pants and shoes. "Damn, how do you do that?" Lizzie whispered. "I'll tell you later." I kissed her one more time before we walked out of the restroom.

When we got into the teacher's lounge I locked the door behind us, luckily this particular door only locks from the inside, and the janitors are too lazy to fix it. It was quiet, a little dark, cozy, just like I remember it. I used to sneak up here for study hall, or after school, if I didn’t want to go straight home. Mainly because one of the teachers from last year hid a collection of pornos behind the soda machine, and they put one of the dvd players in here too, so naturally I would come up here to watch some of it, I also would come up here to sl**p sometimes since there's always something going on near, or at my house. I wasn't adopted, but I don't have either of my parents' last names, I don’t much care to know who my real mother is, but I know my father, he’s a professional drag racer, back before he started his career mom left him, he couldn’t take care of me, and he didn’t want me to have her last name. The most I know of is one day when I turned 12 he showed up at the adoption place, he was in his racing suit, there were a lot of people outside, whom I later learned were called paparazzi. When one of the reporters asked why he had me, he told them, “I came back for my daughter, I couldn’t take care of her back then, but now I can, and that’s what I’m going to do." I usually have the house to myself in the summer since dad races all over the country, whenever there’s an event in the state, he’ll drop by and pick me up, I always go because I’m into cars, he still loves me, and I know I wouldn’t be here now if he hadn’t come back for me. As for the porn I stay away from the bdsm stuff, I don't go for the hair pulling, hitting, name calling, the rough stuff just isn’t my thing, I prefer simple.

I came across one of the dvds that has something called the 'Shemale' fetish (oh gee, I wonder where this fetish came from) I remember one of the scenes really well, it was just a woman with a really big penis and a teenage girl, it wasn’t that great because when the shemale would moan, it sounded like a guy trying to squeal...weird. The main reason I watched it the most is because it ends with the girl getting a creampie, I've always liked that fetish; there's just something about exploding into a girl’s pussy that really gets me off.

As I locked the door Lizzie asked, "No one will know we're in here?" I smiled, "Not unless they have thermal vision or a lock pick, they won't." Ok, I confess, I play a lot of video games in my spare time, and the Splinter Cell series is my favorite, Tom Clancy is an awesome story-teller. As Lizzie sat on the love seat in front of the t.v., I stopped her, “Hey, pants off, now! That pussy is mine for the rest of the day.” She giggled being a little kinky, “Yes, master.” I blushed, “And don’t call me master, that’s weird...” She just shrugged, “Ok, then.” I turned on the a/c because it was a little warm in the lounge, then I took my pants off. When I looked over at Lizzie she had her pants off, and was rubbing her pussy again, which made me want to rub mine. For most hermaphrodites, our genitals are arranged into one of 4 different orientations, I have the most common, I have one testicle in place of where my left ovary would be if I were just a regular girl, and my penis sits just above my vagina and they’re separate, I could, honest to god, fuck myself...

While Lizzie was rubbing her pussy, my penis made itself known again, being that it was inside my bathing suit, it was just a massive bulge while part of the slip was just inside the end of my pussy. Lizzie’s eyes got so wide, and then she kneeled in front of the love seat, “Can I have it?” I eased the slip to the side, “Of course, you can. I walked over and as soon as her lips touched the tip of my penis, a massive shock went up my spine; I was as hard as I was gonna get. I took my hair tie out and tossed it over to my pants letting my dark red hair flow, about now it’s down to my waist, I think long hair is sexy, and I’m not sure why I just don’t like things in my hair when I’m having sex. Lizzie was sucking my cock and rubbing both our pussies vigorously for about 10 minutes when that urge to cum decided to come around. I did the first thing that came to mind, I grabbed Lizzie’s head and shoved my cock as far down her throat as it would go, with both my arms around her head I came, so hard, I felt it shoot up her neck and out onto my crotch, I must have cum a bucket load, I couldn’t move for a moment. When I finally pulled out of her mouth she giggled and started to lick up my cum. “Holy shit, was it that good?” she giggled again. I was huffing, “Yeah, lol, you know we should get you a penis so you can try it. Lol” After she licked up as much cum as she could, she looked me in the eye, and swallowed all of it. Now it was my turn “Was it that good?” She smiled and started to rub my cock, “It tastes, really sweet. That says you’re in good health.” Then I had to sit down, I flopped on the love seat, then Lizzie straddled me, “Ready for more?” I was rock hard again, “Yes, I am.”

As she started to guide my cock into her vagina, she also was rubbing my pussy again, hot, she went really slow, fine by me, she was really tight. “Wow, haahhh, you’re really big.” She kept wiggling a bit to see if that would help. “Yeah, and you’re really tight!” When my cock finally slipped into her pussy, she let out a quiet yelp. “Eeep!” I couldn’t say much, “Sshh!” She just giggled and started to ride me, I couldn’t believe what I was doing, but I didn’t want it to stop, after a minute, I looked down and saw a little bl**d, not much, “Wow, I thought you were joking about being a virgin.” She shook her head, “Nope, you just took my virginity, and whenever you want me, just say so, anytime, anywhere. Rose Marie, I’m all yours.” That just shot me to the end of the line, I came almost instantly, I grabbed Lizzie’s ass, and held her in place with so much f***e, again, so much cum, even more than the first time. Which is interesting when you think about it, any normal guy can only ejaculate a normal amount of sperm after eating. However a hermaphrodite like me, I can jizz bucket load after bucket load without any sort of refreshment and not have a problem...

After I came, Lizzie looked down, “Oh my, so much cum, I didn’t even take my pill today...” I could barely muster the words I was still trying to calm down, “I’m not fertile, and the doctor said....haahh... the doctor took an exam of me, I’m not fertile, we could do that all day, and you’d be fine.” She just kept smiling, “I’d just be full of cum, how erotic...mmm.” She was still rubbing her clit a little. I was still hard so Lizzie just moved her hips slowly.

After about a few more minutes I unlocked the door so Lizzie could go rinse out her pussy, don’t get me wrong, I’ll fuck a room full of clones of me all day long, but after a while my own jizz is a little uncomfortable. As I unlocked the door, we heard footsteps run up to the door; I tried to lock it again—too late.
Lizzie’s best friend Angie flung the door open, almost hitting me in the face, luckily for the moment I was out of sight. “There you are, I was looking all over for yo-..... why are you naked and why is your pussy dripping cum?” I managed to put the slip of my bathing suit back over my penis since it shrank a little, and I walked out into the open, “Angie what are you doing here?” Her face turned to disgust, thankfully she didn't see my bulge, “Why the fuck are you two in here together, what the fuck is going on?!” she was starting to shout, so I punched her in the face which knocked her out.

I had tape over her mouth and her hands and feet were bound with my electrical tape when she woke up. She started to panic, but Lizzie stopped her, “It's ok, we’ve had a truce, but you started screaming so we had to knock you out...” Then she tried to talk through the tape, thankfully I’ve learned to interpret these kinds of things so I knew what she was saying. ‘What’s going on, why can’t I move?!’ Lizzie calmed her down again, while I was getting a drink from the soda machine, having also learned a bit about electronics, I just popped the panel out and got it to dispense a mt dew for free. “It’s going to be ok, but now that you’re in the middle of this, you can’t tell anyone what’s going on.” The confused look said it all, so I worked up my nerve, exposed my penis, and walked up behind Lizzie so Angie could see, the shock on her face? Priceless! She tried to speak again, ‘That dirty fucker’s a guy?! No wonder Jack left yo-‘ “Hey,” I pointed, “the term is hermaphrodite, and Jack didn’t leave me, we’ve both got more important things to worry about than relationships right now, also 'I' said we shouldn't be together, because of all the trouble that was getting started because of us, he doesn't even know about me because I can't help but think he'll be disgusted and never want to see me again.” She stopped panicking. ‘Can you untie me? Please?!’ I had a straight face, “Ok, but if you try to scream, I’ll hit you so hard, you’ll be out for weeks...” She nodded ‘Mmhmm.” I pulled the tape off. She stretched her mouth, “oow...ugh. Wow, so it’s not just some act, you’re a real one huh? I thought that was just plastic surgery they use for porno shoots...” I smirked, “Nope we’re the real deal alright." As I lifted up my penis so she could see my vagina too, "Well, I am anyway; I don’t know anyone else who is.” She looked aroused, “So do you get hard as often-“ I cut her off, “As a guy? I'd have to say more often.” Angie had a horny look in her eye now, “Do you think you could...” I got a little hard, “Take your virginity too?” She was confused, "How did you know I was?" I just pointed at her pussy to make something up, "Because your lips are tight, there's no sign of stretching to them. Which tells me you've never had a real penis, maybe a vibrator at least. So, do you want it?" As I held my penis in the palm of my hand, it wasn't the least bit erect, like I said, I can hide my arousal when I want to. She nodded so fast it was like she was going to lose her head. I set the can aside and rubbed my cock a little. “Ok, but if you tell another living soul...” Angie was blushing, “I won’t, I swear. And, um, can you at least untie my feet. I’m not sure why, but I like the feeling of having my legs spread...” Now I was rock hard again, “Ok.” I pulled the tape off her legs, but left her arms bound, laid her on her back, and spread her legs.

Lizzie didn’t want to miss out now, she straddled Angie and they started making out. I just licked Angie’s pussy for a minute until she asked me, “Can I have your cock now?” I wasn’t about to turn her down now. I rubbed the tip of my penis against her clit, while she and Lizzie made out. When I started to push in she moaned, “Be gentle?” I thought I was going to cum right there. I got a hold of myself and started to pump in and out, nice and gentle, every few thrusts, I’d switch and put my cock in Lizzie, and vice versa, damn talk about horny; I thought out loud, “This would make an awesome porno.” Angie moaned, “Mmhmm.” Lizzie stopped for a second to say, “You’re damn right it would.” After fucking both girls for about 20 minutes, I had to cum again, now here’s where I got creative, I pulled out of Angie, then I eased both girls just slightly so their pussies were together, then I couldn’t hold it any longer, as I came I quickly shot into Angie’s pussy, jizzed once, twice, then as fast as I could, while I was still cumming, I rammed into Lizzie’s pussy, and jizzed two more times, then I was amazed I was still going, so I switched again, and once more, shooting what hot sperm I had left so deep into Lizzie’s pussy, you’d think I shot right into her stomach. As I pulled out of Lizzie, they both started to rub their pussies together, holy shit, that’s awesome. Lizzie was still grinding when she looked at me, “So, how do you like your new fuck buddies?” I was still hard and dripping, my pussy was so wet there was a puddle under me but I hadn’t noticed until now. I stood up and leaned over Lizzie so my penis was along her pussy, and the tip of it was in Angie's. I kissed Lizzie, “I love you, both, which is why the two of you are going to be here, every morning, 2 hours before first period, and we’re going to have more fun every day, until we graduate, and on the weekends, you’ll be here no later than noon, right?” Both Angie and Lizzie kissed each other, then Angie kissed me, then they both huffed, “Yes, ma’am.”

After we cleaned up we headed our separate ways, Angie and Lizzie needed to figure out their schedule for the first semester, and I needed to let my boner die down, I've always found it amazing that I can be tired as hell after sex, and my penis is still rock hard and ready to go. I found Jack waiting in the lunch room, he’d always give me a ride home. I sat down next to him, and hugged his right arm, there were a lot of other people in the lunch room now, and they were looking, but I didn’t care, he looked down at me, “So, how’d it go?” I smiled, “My bully troubles are over, and I have two new fuck buddies.” I whispered the last part so only he could hear. He nodded then before we stood up to leave, Angie and Lizzie were walking by headed for the gym, Jack looked down and we kissed, just like we used to. I heard Lizzie comment, “I knew they wouldn’t really break up forever.” Then she stopped and whispered, “But I do hope we can keep our appointments?” She winked. I just smiled we started walking to the door.

I think this year is going to go very well.... Continue»
Posted by wheels1825 1 year ago  |  Categories: Group Sex, Lesbian Sex, Shemales  |  Views: 4591  |  
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Slaves of the Amethyst (Part Seven)

(See part one for preamble to this series)


Chapter Sixty Two.

Daniel moved slowly down the riverbank toward the hidden pool parting the undergrowth as he went. He was clutching a fly rod. It was an expensive modern rod but not, he realised, as expensive as the old fashioned, hand crafted split cane rod that Robin was using further along the river. Daniel didn’t mind that. Robin’s rod was a museum piece better suited to hanging on the wall of a fishing den than actually to be used on the river. Daniel was more than content with the lightweight high technology instrument Robin had leant him. It had been years since Daniel had wielded a fly rod but it had come back to him quickly and his casting, although rusty, had improved throughout the morning. They’d been at the water since dawn leaving a note saying “Gone Fishing” where the sl**ping girls in the Starlight Suite would find it. It was best to present the female of the race with a fait accompli when it came to sneaking out for a spot of fishing. Already by now they’d taken half a dozen takeable trout between them, which was pretty fair for the time of year. Now however Daniel had greater ambitions in mind.
He’d sighted the big shadow lurking near a patch of collected flotsam underneath the over-hanging undergrowth from the bridge below the hidden pool and for the last twenty minutes he’d been carefully stalking his way into position to cast to it. His excitement was mounting as the shadowy form moved to intercept a fly on the surface with a delicate ripple. Even the vaguest glimpse that could be discerned through the polarising sunglasses showed it to be a very special fish indeed. Finally Daniel reached a point where a clever cast could put a fly over that big shape. He paused, waiting patiently although his mouth was dry with tension. The merest sudden movement or unguarded footfall could bolt that fish in an instance. It could never have grown to that size without the facilities of extreme caution! There was another little plop and a ring of ripples on the surface. The fish was still rising! The question was what was it rising to? Daniel knew that trout could become very fixated on a single available source of food and it was no earthly use on occasion to present them with an alternative. Part of the art of fly-fishing therefore was to be able to identify the type of flies that your particular target was feeding on. An insect settled on Daniel’s jacket. He recognised it immediately. It was a sedge fly, the adult version of those curious caddis grubs that built little cases around themselves out of twigs and pebbles and suchlike. It was early in the day for sedge flies. They normally began to show in the late afternoon and evening but Daniel recalled reading that some species were active throughout the day. Whatever the case it seemed likely that Daniel had found a clue to this fish’s menu for the day.
Unhurriedly he opened the box of flies that Robin had given him hoping to find some sedge imitations. It didn’t have to be that exact. Sedge flies all looked more or less the same to Daniel anyway. They were all nondescript brown things with long delicate wings. As long as he could match the colour and size reasonably well he stood a chance. He didn’t expect his quarry to conduct a detailed entomological study of his lure. He just needed it to mistake it for the flies it was feeding on. There was a fly pattern that seemed just perfect. With trembling fingers he tied it to his leader and sprayed it with a light oil to make it float. That was problem one. The next was how to present this imitation over the nose of that fish. It was by no means easy. The overgrown banks and bushes precluded the normal back cast of a fly fisherman. You needed open space behind you for that. It was likely that this trout had grown so big largely because its chosen lair was so invulnerable to conventional casting techniques. There was only one way Daniel could think of doing it and that was to let a bow of fly line form behind his rod and then flick it forward in a roll cast. The trouble was that that was a fiendishly difficult cast to get right and he was only likely to get one chance at it. Any sloppy slapping of the line on the water would spook that fish for sure.
Taking a deep breath he raised his rod slowly aiming for a position well upstream of the target. Then he let the cast go. To his amazement it was very nearly perfect. The artificial fly landed on the water with the merest kiss a yard in front of the fish’s station and there were sufficient coils in his line to prevent the fly being dragged unnaturally out of position by the current. Daniel held his breath as the imitation bobbed along the surface towards his quarry. It was a foot away, then six inches and then nearly on top. For a heart-stopping moment he thought it had passed over the fish and then it was gone. The rise was quite unlike the splashy affairs of the smaller fish Daniel had already taken that day. It was almost finicky in its delicacy, the tiniest protrusion of a brown snout plucking his fly from the surface with the air of a duchess sipping her afternoon tea. Daniel was so shocked that for a moment he forgot to strike but then he whipped his rod up and tightened on to the fish.
It was like sticking the end of his line in a power socket. There was a moment of heavy vibration and then the fish exploded into action, rushing downstream. All the loose line in Daniel’s hand was stripped away in an instance and the ratchet on his reel screamed in protest. It was unstoppable that power run. Perhaps on one of his barbel rods or one of his light carp rods Daniel might have thought about trying to halt that fish but on the fairy wand of a fly rod, bending double as it was, there was simply no alternative but to let the fish run. And there all Daniel’s carefully laid plans came unstuck. The truth was that having so meticulously planned his approach to luring that fish into the indiscretion of taking his fly he had completely overlooked what to do once it had done so. The little bridge was the problem. Effortlessly the fish dashed under the bridge and into the dreadful pool below with its compliment of half sunken bushes leaving Daniel in one pool and the fish in another and separated by a low bridge. In the pool below Daniel heard a splash like somebody throwing a brick into the water and knew his fish had jumped in its fury. He was now in an awful predicament. He couldn’t even see what the fish was doing. It was time to call in reinf***ements.
“ROBIN! HELP!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. Within seconds Robin was dashing through the undergrowth his eyes frantic thinking that Daniel must be drowning or something.
“What the hell’s up?”
“Ah’ve got a bleedin’ belter on Robin an’ e’ gone down under that bridge inter t’ next pool an’ I think me line’s caught on a bush or summat.”
“Hold on! I’ll go look.” From below the bridge Robin called out “Your lines tangled on a bush but the fish is still there. Goddess it’s huge! I’ll have to get into the water to free your line. Can you wade under the bridge? It’s not deep.”
“Oh ell!” Neither Daniel nor Robin had thought to bring waders out with them. “Alright I’m coming!” Daniel plunged into the water. It felt icy cold and it was up to his waist as he negotiated his way under the bridge. Emerging below the bridge he found Robin nearly up to his chest disengaging his line from a wicked looking bush.
“Ok! You’re free now tighten up on him!” The fish tore off in another reel shrieking run and launched itself clear of the water. Daniel gasped. It was the biggest brown trout he had ever seen. “Goddess don’t lose this one Danny! He must be five pounds if he’s an ounce!” Fortunately, once below the bushes the fish was in clear water and Daniel was able to give it its head. He staggered to some shallower water by the bank side and began to play the fish with caution, aware that he had only a two-pound breaking strain leader on. Gradually he began to hope. The fish’s mad runs were becoming fewer and less hectic. Robin was excitedly working his way into position with the landing net. It was definitely tiring now and Daniel was restricting it to a short line just short of the net. There was another worry though. Robin saw it. “Be bl**dy careful Danny. That hook hold looks very tenuous. Don’t bully him! It could go in a second!” The thought of this fish slipping the hook at the eleventh hour was almost more than Daniel could bear and he played the fish as if walking on glass. Then it was at the lip of the net and he held his breath. In a single fluid motion Robin scooped the fish up at almost the exact second that the hook gave way. But it was too late! The great trout was flapping furiously in the folds of the landing net and Robin was floundering ashore with it, whooping in triumph as Daniel yelled exultantly and punched the air in glee. They dashed up the bank with their prize. “Look at the size of the bastard!” cried Robin “Five, five and a half pounds easy. A two pound fish is good out of this river. I’ve never seen one this big before.”
Daniel looked at the big beautiful fish in wonderment. It had the lovely golden brown flanks flecked with black and red spots of the brown trout almost as if touched by the sun. It lacked the flamboyant colouring of the rainbow trout perhaps but there was something deeply satisfying aesthetically about the big golden brown fish glistening in the sunlight, with the pugnacious hooked jaw that proclaimed it to be a male. “bl**dy ‘ell Robin! It’s a beauty!” said Daniel and he wasn’t just talking about its bulk and weight. The actual beauty of the wild fish genuinely stunned him.
“Wait till your Alice sees this one!”
But that was something Daniel could not contemplate. It was unthinkable for him to kill this magnificent creature. He cleared his throat. “Nay Robin we’ve got enough for the pan. Let’s let ‘im go!”
Robin nodded “I agree Danny. He’s too lovely to end his days on a plate. You’re a real fisherman Danny! It takes somebody who really loves fish to know when to let them go.”
Daniel looked sheepish “Oh sod that Rob! Ah just want to come back in a year an’ catch ‘im when ‘e’s even bigger!”
Robin laughed and fumbled in his breast pocket. “Well that doesn’t stop us photographing him anyway. I hope to hell my camera didn’t get wet!” When they’d snapped Daniel holding his catch proudly they eased the big trout back into the river holding him gently with his nose upstream until he recovered and slipped out of Daniel’s hands making his way back to the lair beyond the bridge. The two men watched him go in profound satisfaction. Robin slapped Daniel on the back “Come on this calls for a celebration! Grab your gear and we’ll go back to where I’ve left my bag. I’ve a flask of good Scotch in it!
Back at Robin’s bag Daniel moaned “I’m bl**dy soaking now! We’re going to look a right pair o’ pillocks walking back into t’ All drippin’ watter all ovver t’ polished floors aren’t we?”
“Well strip out of your wet things then and we can hang them up on those bushes. The sun’s getting hot. They’ll soon dry.” Robin was already divesting himself of his wet clothes, stripping down to his underwear. Somewhat sheepishly Daniel followed his example. They sat down on the grass in their underpants and Robin groped inside his bag to produce a flask and two little silver quaitches. Carefully he poured out two measures of whisky and handed one to Daniel. “Here’s to your success Danny!”
“Ah couldn’t ‘ave landed that fish without your ‘elp Rob so I think we’ll go shares on that one! ‘Ere’s to our fish!” They laughed and tapped drinks together. The whisky was smoky and pungent and Daniel spluttered on it.
“Sixteen year old Lagavulin Danny! Right off the Isle of Islay! One of the oldest distilleries in Scotland, you can taste the peat and seaweed in it! Petri Heil!”
“Eh?”
“Its German Danny, Petri Heil. Hail Peter. St Peter is the patron saint of fishermen and in Germany fishermen greet each other by saying Petri Heil. It’s a bit like us saying “tight lines”. It’s supposed to bring luck. When somebody says Petri Heil to you, you reply Petri Dank, or thanks Peter.”
“Right then Petri Dank!” They finished off their little bowls of whisky and Robin refilled them.
“Really though Danny you’re a terrific fisherman. There’s not many people could have extracted that beauty from that pool or even known there was one in it.” Robin was being serious. He was a very good angler himself and he recognised a kindred spirit when he saw one. Daniel he saw was a natural. It wasn’t just technical expertise that separated Daniel from the ordinary run of fishermen either. Daniel possessed that instinctive sixth sense that characterised all great fishermen, the ability to “read” a water. It was an uncanny sense nearly impossible to explain to somebody not possessing it but Daniel was one of those anglers who could look at a stretch of river or an expanse of still water and be able to tell you to the foot where the fish would be. It was almost as if he could put himself inside a fish’s mind and ask himself where he would take up position. A river was not just a body of flowing water to him it was thousand different eddies, glides, rippled gravel beds, flowing streamer weeds and creases in the water each of them telling their own story about the life within them. It was a multitude of lairs, a living habitat with every nuance of it as clearly marked out as reference points on a map. Genius manifests itself in many ways. In Daniel’s case it was expressed through a fishing rod.
Daniel blushed under Robin’s praise especially since he was coming to admire his handsome, intelligent new friend. Daniel was essentially a shy, reserved young man that didn’t make friends easily. To him Robin was the epitome of easy charm and educated sophistication. If somebody had told him a fortnight ago that he’d be sat in his underwear, on the banks of an exclusive trout stream, sharing a flask of whisky with the Lord of the Manor he’d have thought they were suffering a serious marble deficiency. Yet there was an easy comradeship that was deeply gratifying. Robin was becoming a mentor to Daniel, a man he could look up to, an elder b*****r with whom such a sharing fellowship was a natural consequence. They even shared their womenfolk between them, and something else besides. Daniel looked covertly at the tall nearly naked man beside him with his hairless well-formed body rippling with firm muscles. Something was bothering Daniel.
“Er Robin… er about …well you know… about last night.”
“What about it Danny?”
“Well you know… ah mean wot ‘appened.”
“Lots of things happened last night Danny.”
“Aye… true enough but… I mean…well yer know. I mean what ‘appened wi you an’ me.”
“Oh that!”
Robin smiled ruefully remembering the scenes in the Starlight Suite. It had all been Rebecca’s fault. Who else?! The evening had progressed easily into a four way party and, in the fantastic bedchamber of the Starlight Suite, the girls had swapped between their two men with alacrity. Daniel had revelled in the opportunity to enjoy the beautiful Rebecca at his leisure whilst casting glances aside to admire his wife’s ecstatic contortions as Robin took her. It had been wildly exciting, an erotic dream where anything was permissible. In the heady thick atmosphere of sexuality, when the two men were desirous of a pause for breath they’d tried to persuade the two girls to give them a repeat performance of their show on the beach at Bolswick Bay. Rebecca had whispered in Alice’s ear and then declared “Ok! We’ll do it! But we shall want a favour afterwards!”
“What sort of favour?” had asked Robin guardedly, all too aware of Rebecca’s infinite capacity for mischievousness.
“Just agree now or we won’t do it!” The men had agreed albeit with great misgivings and then sat back to enjoy the sight of Rebecca and Alice making love. It had been even wilder than the shocking display at Bolswick Bay and Daniel had watched mesmerised as Rebecca had buried her face in Alice’s sex and licked her to one orgasm after another until he hardly recognised the wailing a****l on the receiving end of Rebecca’s administrations as his wife. Alice had repaid Rebecca for Bolswick Bay by spanking her hard whilst Rebecca fingered herself to orgasm and finally the two of them had collapsed among the duvets on the great round bed that took up all the space under the glass vault of the bedchamber gasping and pent. The menfolk had been delighted. They’d been less delighted shortly after however.
“Ok” Rebecca had breathed “Your turn now boys!”
“Eh? What?” Daniel had spluttered.
“You heard me Danny. Alice and I have just put on a performance for you two and now it’s time for you to reciprocate the favour.”
“Aye!” Alice had giggled “It’s only fair. Me an’ Becky ‘ave an ‘ankerin’ to watch two fellahs doin’ it. So let’s be avin’ yer!”
“Ere ‘ang about! Ah don’t know about this!” Daniel had protested.
“You don’t honestly want me and Danny to… well…?” Robin had looked horrified.
“Indeed we do! You agreed to grant us a favour and this is the favour we’re asking.”
“I don’t know if I can!” Robin had blurted appalled.
“Oh I see!” This had been from Rebecca “Its one thing for us girls to make love for your entertainment and quite another when you’re called upon to do the same is it? Come along now boys! Don’t be shy! You can do it if you try! You might even enjoy it I hope.”
“Oh ‘ell!” Daniel had been almost comical in his pitiable embarrassment.
“Come along now boys!” Rebecca had urged, “Your audience is waiting! If you won’t do it then Alice and I will go and sl**p in the other suite for the rest of the night!” After much bullying encouragement the two men had been ushered into each other’s arms.
“’Ere I don’t know if I can do this!” Daniel had said miserably.
“Of course you can Daniel!” Rebecca had told him “Now put on a good show! All the way mind! We want to see you come! Both of you!” And slowly and very reluctantly to begin with they had complied. Arousal had come to their rescue. The two girls had watched them excitedly, masturbating as they did so, and almost without their volition the two men had become erect. It had been strange to feel the hard muscles of a man in one’s arms, strange to be kissed and feel a masculine stubble rough against one’s cheek, strange to feel a man’s hands exploring one’s body, strange to grasp a penis not one’s own in one’s hand and stranger still to become excited in the process, so excited that one willingly bent to take that penis in one’s mouth and taste the hot sperm as it ejaculated into the back of one’s throat. Strangest of all was the aftermath when one even felt a sweetness in the act and a togetherness with one’s lover and kissed him almost tenderly like a woman. The girls had rewarded their men by being extra sweet to them and the four of them had cuddled up close among the bedclothes with the last barriers of reserve discarded.
“Aye that!” said Daniel.
Robin cleared his throat “Well what about it?”
“Ah’ve never done anything like that before Robin.”
“Well neither have I Danny!”
“Your bl**dy Becky don’t ‘alf come up wi some bl**dy ideas don’t she?”
“She certainly does!”
“Well I… er I just wanted ter say well… er its done now an’ er… well… Oh ‘ell I don’t know what I want ter say!”
“If Rebecca has her way it’ll probably happen again Danny!”
“Aye! Ah know!”
“Would you mind? You could always refuse.”
“Aye I suppose so.” Daniel looked worried. “It’s just that…”
“Spit it out Danny! Nobody here but us chickens!”
“I ‘ave a confession ter make Robin.”
“You can tell me Danny. Please trust me.”
“Well it’s like this Rob. I know its ‘orrible an’ yer’ll think t’ worst o’ me but I enjoyed it!”
“This is horrible? This is your terrible confession?”
“Well I just didn’t think I were like that! A pouf I mean. I thought I were just normal! ”
“Danny you’re not a “pouf” whatever that means. You’re a virile perfectly normal man. I’ve seen you in action! Rebecca was like a damp dishrag after you’d finished with her last night! So you made love to another man. Big deal! Lots of people do you know! Rebecca will jump into bed with another girl at the drop of a hat. She doesn’t think she’s a pouf! I remember her saying to me once “I feel sorry for people that are fixated on one sex. That’s half the human race they can never sl**p with.” Rebecca’s as mad as a March hare it’s true but she’s opened my eyes about things like this. Sex is between the people concerned and nobody else’s business what you do. Don’t be putting labels on yourself and doubting your own masculinity just because you got off on sex with another man Danny. Rebecca taught me that sex is one of life’s great gifts and it’s a shame to reject it. Most people, most sensitive people, have some experience with their own sex. There’s nothing at all shameful about it. My room mate at university and I tried once but we were crap at it and went out for a beer instead! Then again we didn’t have Rebecca’s coaching talents at our disposal. Don’t worry about it Danny! I’m glad you enjoyed it!”
“Can I ask yer somethin’ Robin?”
“Of course!”
“Did yer… I mean did you…”
“Did I enjoy it?”
“Aye!”
Robin looked at Daniel and smiled. Then in a single motion he threw his arms around Daniel and pulled him close, their damp naked bodies pressed against one another. The kiss was long, rough and lingering and Daniel felt the stirring in his groin. At last Robin released him. “Does that answer your question Danny?”
“Aye….aye it does!”
“Do you have any more questions?”
“Aye!” Daniel looked breathless as he nodded toward the flask laying on the grass “Is there any more o’ that whisky left?”
“Yes loads! Pass your cup over!” They finished off the flask between them.
In the Starlight Suite the men’s absence had been duly noted with a certain degree of acerbity. “Gone bl**dy fishing!” fumed Rebecca to Alice as the two girls attended to their morning toilet, “Just up and dumped us for some bl**dy fish! Just wait until they come back! I’ll give them “Gone Fishing”! Sneaking out without even as much as a morning kiss! Its high time Alice that we taught them who’re the bosses around here!”
Alice laughed “Aye well Becky I suppose we can lerrem ‘ave the odd mornin’ off. They was well be’aved enough yesterday.”
“And so they should be! It’s the principle of the matter Alice. We must instil some discipline! You can’t have men thinking that they can get their own way. That’s the road to ruin! If they’d wanted to go fishing then they should have humbly asked our permission instead of creeping furtively out like a pair of naughty schoolboys! What is the human race coming to if men start to think that they can go gallivanting off without so much as a by your leave? No we established these protocols back in the Stone Age Alice! No self-respecting cavewoman would have allowed her old man to simply go traipsing out of the cave for a bit of fun, mammoth bashing or whatever, without her permission! No Alice this sort of thing has to be nipped in the bud. Wait till they get back! I’ll make them wriggle on their own hooks! Do you like that dress?”
“Yes its lovely Becky! Thank you!” Rebecca had given Alice a beautiful knee length dress in a light blue soft fabric.
“Well it looks better on you than on me! I’ve only worn it once. It’s a bit on the big side in the upper stories for me. You’re a bit more well endowed than me in that department.”
“Yer’ve got lovely boobs Becky!”
“Well I’m perfectly content with them but I’m not in your class there. Your boobs would be serious contenders for the blue ribbon for best marrows in the Mathomdale horticultural show any day! I noticed my Lord Robin couldn’t keep his lecherous paws off them last night!”
Alice giggled “Didn’t stop ‘im tryin’ t’ wares on t’ other fruit and veg stalls Becky!”
Rebecca laughed “Goddess I thought we’d gone too far when we made them make love to each other! We damn near had a mutiny on our hands!”
Alice joined Rebecca in laughter “bl**dy ‘ell! That were funny! Ah got right turned on watching that!”
“Yes it was fun! Presumably this morning’s insurrection is the backlash from that. The boys going out to reassert their masculinity or something! Well we’ll soon quell that particular rebellion!”
“When are we seeing Lady Mathom today Becky?”
“There was a message on my computer. The Lady didn’t come home last night but she’s asked if we could join her this afternoon at around half past four for tea. Is that alright for you?”
“Oh right Becky! Like I’m gonna say “Sorry that’s inconvenient” to ‘Er Ladyship? She’s t’ boss around ‘ere an’, if she says frog, we jump!”
“Spoken like a true slave of Mathom Hall already Alice! Yes the Lady calls the tune Alice but she pretties it up a little. Listen when we’re looking shipshape and Bristol fashion I have to pop off for a while. Julie gave me a letter to deliver to Jennifer and I’ll have to take it to her. Will you be alright on your own in the enf***ed absence of our menfolk?”
“Can’t I come with you? I’m dyin’ to meet your Jennifer.”
“Er not at the moment Alice. I haven’t cleared it. It’s…well it’s a bit awkward at the moment. Not diplomatic you might say. Later perhaps, maybe tomorrow or the day after, I don’t know, but it could be a bit inconvenient right now. As it is I’ll have to ask permission to see her myself. You don’t mind do you?”
“No Becky love. You go ahead. Will yer be long?”
“I shouldn’t be. In the meantime have a look around if you like. You’re a guest here and if anybody asks you just say that you’re here at Lord Robin’s invitation. It looks like another scorcher outside so I’ll ask our butler if we can have brunch out on the back terraces around twelve. It’s nearly ten o’clock now. Goddess knows if the boys will be back by then. If they aren’t they can go hungry! Maybe they can eat their fish if they actually managed to catch any!”
Jennifer was having a tough morning. Her exercises had been even more demanding than yesterday and it had been a relief to finally jump under a shower. After her shower she’d returned to the dining chamber to find Rachel sat looking at her meaningfully, “Well Jennifer?” Jennifer had gulped and rushed off to fetch the paddle. Rachel had been unimpressed “I don’t expect to have to remind you again Jennifer.” she’d said taking the paddle out of Jennifer’s hands.
“No ma-am.” Said Jennifer frowning.
“Are you being resentful Jennifer?”
“N…no ma-am!”
“Good! I dislike sulky petulance! Please assume the customary position.” Afterwards with Jennifer’s bottom stinging Rachel had begun a series of tests on Jennifer’s self-awareness and had found her to be woefully inadequate by her exacting standards. She‘d designated a pathway through a chamber as a catwalk and had made Jennifer walk the length of it in a variety of guises. “Imagine you’re a model,” she’d told her “Now I want you to strut along the walk aggressively dominant, hand on hip, devil may care and damn the consequences!” Jennifer had managed a look that made it appear as if she was desperate to get to the lavatory. She’d been ordered to appear kittenish and coy, then languorous and seductively sultry, next happy and flirtatious or tranquil and dream like. Rachel had wanted her to appear resigned, nervous, expectant as if walking to meet a lover, heavy as if burdened with a problem, light and vivacious as if newly in love, authoritative and confident (a hopeless cause as Rachel pointed out) or penitent and scared as if reporting for punishment which was about the only one she could manage easily as Rachel told her acidly. It had been a little like flogging the proverbial dead horse. Jennifer just didn’t seem to be able to visualise just how she appeared to other people. She lacked the awareness to project herself and her appearance. Perhaps if she’d been the sort of girl that spent more time watching herself in the mirror she might have found the exercises easier but generally she just couldn’t adopt a particular persona with any facility. Rachel had her sit down at a chair or stand up in various modes but Jennifer lacked the elegance and posture to turn the act into a meaningful gesture. She just looked as if she was sitting down or standing up.
“Do it slowly.” Rachel admonished her “Maintain eye contact with me! Part your lips! You’re supposed to be seducing me not telling me that you have to catch the four o’clock train!”
Jennifer slumped down demoralised. “I’m sorry ma-am I was never very good at drama.”
“This isn’t drama Jennifer! These are essential tools of womanhood! A lady always knows how she looks! She uses her body language like a tool, a weapon! You’re an artist Jenny! Well then start to see that you yourself are an art form. Your movements should be beautiful, harmonious, measured and, most of all, totally self-aware. Your actions should be a dance of grace and elegance as carefully choreographed as a ballet routine. You should know exactly when to lower your face demurely, when to look a person in the eyes and part your lips, when to slide your hand along the edge of the table or brush a lock of your hair away with a fingertip, how to rise from a sitting position as if you’re being drawn up by strings. You have to learn to enjoy the theatricality of your everyday actions. A lady, a truly self-aware lady doesn’t just walk into a room, she captures it, takes it for her own, holds it spell bound.”
Jennifer had sighed. She felt that she could never achieve the seemingly natural grace and poise that Rebecca and the other girls at the Hall demonstrated apparently without thinking. Rachel had made her repeat the actions in front of the big mirrors in the gymnasium and Jennifer was appalled to observe just how awkward and gauche she appeared. Rachel made her pour a cup of tea from a teapot with elegance and style and on this occasion it had not been too bad. Jennifer had recalled her first meeting with her Mistress and recalled the lovely movements that Her Ladyship had blessed the action with. She’d tried to recapture the aesthetic grace of those movements and had earned a grudging “Better!” from Rachel.
There was a serious point to all this Rachel had told her. An enhanced human being had to be in complete harmony with their body. Your body had to be an expression of your will, enslaved to your purposes and totally under your control. You could manipulate people with the expression of your body. People reacted to you by the way they read your body signals. A person that was fully in control of their body made sure that the other person read what they wanted them to read. Life was a carnival and you carried your faces around like a collection of Venetian masks. There were faces you showed to your boss, faces you showed to your c***dren, faces reserved for your lover, ones for the general public. A lady had more faces in her armoury than she had dresses in her wardrobe and they all lay over the face you showed only to God, the Goddess or yourself and that was the face that controlled them all. That was the one you had to be able to look at and be content with
Sebastian intervened and begged a quiet word with Rachel whispering quietly in her ear. Rachel turned to Jennifer and smiled “Ok time out for the moment Jenny. You have a visitor it seems!” A few moments later Sebastian ushered Rebecca into the dining chamber, beautiful in a white and honey dress, and Jennifer emitted a squeal of delight and rushed into her arms caring not that she was naked.
“Oh Becky thank you for visiting me! I’ve been missing you!”
Rebecca laughed touched by Jennifer’s obvious joy in seeing her. “We’ve missed you too sweetheart! How are you doing? Is Rachel putting you through the mill?”
“Oh Becky I’m just hopeless! I don’t know how Rachel finds the patience with me!”
Rachel laughed and embraced Rebecca in her turn. “Come along girls let’s see if Sebastian can rustle up some coffee for us.” They sat down at the long table and Sebastian served them coffee.
“It’s very good to see you again Miss Rebecca. It’s been a long time since you came for a stay in these chambers.” He said
“I must have been behaving myself Sebastian! Never mind I’m sure it won’t be long before I earn myself another protracted round of your hospitality!”
“I shall look forward to it Miss!”
Rebecca turned to Jennifer “Listen honey I can’t stay long. We’ve got Alice and Daniel from Bolswick Bay staying and Robin and Danny have gone out fishing for the moment so poor Alice is left upstairs on her own. Look though I’ve got a letter for you from Julie.” Rebecca handed the envelope over. “She’s a bit worried about you Jenny.”
“Oh dear! Will you tell her that I’m alright?”
“I already have done Jenny but its hard work. Still she’ll be alright. So how’s my lovely Jenny doing then Pixie?”
“Oh I’ve had her doing some bodily and self-awareness exercises this morning Rebecca. She’s really crap at them!”
Rebecca laughed richly “I could have told you that Rachel! Jenny’s so interested in things around her that she never takes the time to look at herself! She just doesn’t seem to notice the effect she has on people. I’ve seen her walk into the pub, bring the entire pub’s conversation to a grinding halt and she just looks puzzled as if it had nothing to do with her!”
“That’s not true Rebecca!” pouted Jennifer as Rachel burst into laughter.
Rebecca stayed for a few minutes more before begging permission to leave. After she’d embraced Jennifer warmly Rachel rose and said “I’ll walk you out Rebecca. You can take a few minutes to read Julie’s letter Jenny then its back to the grindstone I’m afraid!” Walking Rebecca back through the cellars Rachel looked concerned “You were a little diplomatic there Rebecca. About Julie I mean. Is there something wrong?”
“Yes. Yes there is Pixie. I didn’t want to bother Jenny but I’m really worried about Julie. She seems to be coming apart at the seams. She ran away from us nearly in panic yesterday and she’s scared to hell about Jenny. I don’t know what to do Pixie.”
“Hmm what’s in that letter do you suppose?”
“I don’t know Pixie but it might be a good idea to keep an eye on Jenny. If the letter’s really torrid then there’s no telling what Jenny might get it into her mind to do!”
“I’ll bear it in mind. Thank you for warning me. In the meantime can you look after Julie?”
“I’ll try Pixie but I’ve Alice and Daniel here as well for the moment and I’ve not as much time as I’d like. I’m not sure I’d be much use anyway.”
“I tried to warn Jenny about getting entangled with Julie but she can be as stubborn as a mule sometimes.”
“Then you’d best warn me as well Pixie because, for better or for worse, I’m entangled with Julie as well now and I can be just as stubborn as Jenny.”
“Alright stop bristling! Is it true that Julie suffers from epilepsy?”
“No! Or rather we don’t know. She’s been suffering fits and blackouts but the condition has not been diagnosed. Until it is then her condition is just speculation. In any case millions of people live with epilepsy. It is controllable with modern medication and it doesn’t carry the stigma that it once did thank the Goddess. Most people with epilepsy live perfectly ordinary fulfilled lives. Whatever her condition it will not stop Jennifer loving her or me loving her for that matter. Even, no especially, if its something more serious we’ll stick by her. I’ll try to get to see her this week. What I really need to do is get her to a doctor but she’s frightened to death of that!”
“Well alright Rebecca.” They were near the stairs leading to the upper house. “I’ll leave you here. Are you still certain about Thursday?”
“Yes Pixie I am. It’s something we need to do.”
“And Friday too?”
“Especially Friday.”
“Well I’ll say no more. I just hope Jenny is ready for it is all. We could be pushing her too hard.”
“I think Jenny could surprise us all yet.”
“You might be right. The Goddess is powerful in her. I wish I could be there when she meets Yuki. Ok I’d better get back to my tutoring chores. Give me a kiss and I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“Perhaps earlier Pixie. Would it be alright to bring Alice down to meet Jenny?”
“When?”
“Maybe Tuesday. I still have some work to do to prepare Alice for the experience. Would that be alright?”
“Should be but run it past me first ok?”
“I will.”
“Good! Now kiss?”
Whilst Rebecca was in the cellars Alice was having a little adventure of her own. Chafing at confinement in the Starlight Suite when she was so excited about being at Mathom Hall she had set off on a short exploration of the building’s multitude of corridors. It was a mistake. She was quickly lost. She seemed to wander endlessly without coming to any part that she recognised from the previous day. At one point she passed a young maid who curtsied to her politely but she lacked the courage to ask for directions. She was entirely uneasy about enlisting the assistance of domestic help. Finally however she found herself in a familiar hallway. Robin and Rebecca had showed her around this part the day before and there was one room she really wanted to see again. It was the music room on the ground floor and she tentatively pushed open the big heavy door to observe gleefully that the room was unoccupied. The object to which she had been drawn like a magnet sat polished and gleaming near to the windows. It was a piano and what a piano. Alice had learned the piano from her early days from her adopted grandparents and she happened to be very, very good on it. She’d taken lessons on the instrument regularly in her youth. At school she had continued her love of the instrument and had even at one point harboured ambitions to study music at an academy after leaving school. Then her adopted parents had moved up to Teescastle. She’d tried to keep up with her piano playing but there’d been little money for it and it had fallen by the wayside. Then she’d met Daniel and started courting seriously and the future as a pianist had become just a broken dream in the passage of her young life.
Yet she could still feel the thrill of a beautiful instrument like this. She just loved pianos. Even old upright pianos gave her goose pimples. They seemed to belong to a dream world of might have beens where she sat down in an elegant evening gown before an orchestra and an audience in the respectful hush before the opening bars. She just loved to touch them, run her fingers over the polished wood of them and allow her daydreams to wander. But this instrument was something else altogether. Not since she had played on the concert grand of her tutor in Bolswick Bay had she come so close to such a beautiful piano. It was a Steinway but so old! It had to be nearly a hundred years old! There was no sense of decrepitude about it however. The instrument was beautifully kept and its woodwork was polished to such a high veneer that you could see your own reflection in it. Alice felt almost a venal sense of envy. What it must be like to possess such an instrument as this! Lovingly she caressed the smooth woodwork of the case, the polished spruce warm under her fingertips. The strings under the open lid gleamed in their frame over the Sitka Spruce soundboard. The action of the piano seemed to be well maintained and Alice daringly lifted the hood to the keyboard. The row of keys gleamed invitingly.
Just once Alice had to sit at this instrument. Her heart thundering with fear and excitement she lowered herself onto the stool and faced the keyboard daring her fingers to come lightly to rest on the keys. She could feel the atmosphere, smell it, hear the last echoing vibrations of the tuning violins and the tapping of the conductor’s baton in the expectant silence. She felt the conductor’s eyes turn towards her questioningly and she nodded in acknowledgement taking a deep breath as she poised her hands over the keys. Alice shook her head. The vision was overpowering, a beguiling fantasy of a lost c***dhood. She sat very still in the big quiet room, the only noise a distant buzzing from a lawn mower somewhere out in the grounds and felt a yearning that she had thought long forgotten. She was lost now, the temptation of the keys irresistible, her fingers beyond her volition. She just wanted to see if this piano was in tune. Did anybody ever play it or was it just stood here as an antique curiosity? Was it still a living instrument or just a museum piece in the Hall’s collection? Tentatively she tried a few notes and the richness of the sound was an unfathomable thrill in the stillness of the room.
She had doomed herself, taken upon a presumptuousness which took her breath away, a cleaning girl daring to m***** an instrument never built for the likes of her. But she began to play. It was one of her favourites and one of the most demanding pieces in her repertoire. The deceptively simple rhythm was overlaid with the richness of an orchestra and the piece told the story of a wandering search for happiness. The slow melody was enriched by the tremolos and the texture became deep and bordering upon the epic. She was lost in the haunting fantasy of the piece and the instrument must have inspired her for she had never played it so well. She could almost feel the composer’s despair and his hunt for fulfilment within his music, his desperation that happiness was where he was not and the fading sands of his own mortality. For twenty-two long minutes she was enraptured in her music her eyes blurring with tears as she coaxed the melodies out of the lovely piano. Finally she came to the conclusion of the final resonant fugue and sat gasping in the echoes of the ultimate notes, her mind on a high plain it had never touched before.
“That was very, very beautiful.”
Alice span around on the stool in shock at the sound of the voice. Sitting on a low stool just inside the room was a woman. In her reverie over the piano Alice had not heard her enter. The woman was beautiful with waist length jet-black hair. “Oh I beg yer pardon Miss. Ah never ‘eard yer come in! I ‘ope I ‘aven’t disturbed anyone! I jus’ wanted to try this piano like. I didn’t mean ter do owt I wasn’t supposed to.”
“That piano is supposed to be played my dear. It is a long time since it was played so well. Schubert wasn’t it? The Wanderer Fantasy in C major if I’m not mistaken. It’s a long time since I heard that piece.”
“Y… yes Miss.”
The beautiful woman rose easily to her feet and Alice instinctively rose in her turn suddenly aware of the power of this raven haired woman in her soft cream dress and with her startling amethyst eyes. The woman crossed the room “I’m Lady Mathom. You must be Alice Foreman.”
Alice gasped. She’d had some image in her head of Robin’s mother as some forbidding dowager matriarch and now she was confronted with this electrifying female. Everybody remembers his or her first encounter with the Grand Mistress of Mathom Hall with an astonishment that doesn’t fade with the passage of years and Alice would be no exception. Many years later she would still feel the thrill of that meeting, still experience the tingling aura of the woman’s presence. Hastily Alice dropped a clumsy curtsy “Forgive me Ma-am. I ‘ad no idea!”
“Please don’t concern yourself. I walked in unannounced. I was passing the music room and heard somebody playing the piano. I am very pleased to meet you Alice. May I call you Alice?”
“Of course My Lady.”
Lady Mathom came close to Alice, held out her hands palm up and looked at Alice’s hands. “May I Alice?” In wonderment Alice placed her hands in Lady Mathom’s. Alice’s hands were long and slender with elegant sensitive fingers. Lady Mathom examined them critically gently massaging them with her fingers and turning them over in her hands as Alice stood still, her heartbeat loud in her breast, for long seconds. Finally Lady Mathom grasped Alice’s hands firmly and looked into her eyes. “You must be sure to take very good care of these Alice. They are full of magic and very precious.”
“Th… thank you My Lady.” Alice could think of nothing more sensible to say.
“Would you do something for me Alice?”
“Aye! I.. I mean yes My Lady.”
“Would you play that piece for me again? I only caught the latter part. I would love to hear all of it.”
Of … of course My Lady.”
“Thank you Alice.” Lady Mathom relinquished Alice’s hands and sat back down smiling encouragingly. Nervously Alice took her place once more at the piano, flexed her hands and addressed the keyboard. In spite of her nervousness Alice knew from the opening bars that she was playing more sublimely than she had ever managed in her life. She felt elevated in a way she could not describe. She’d heard of athletes describe some state of consciousness they called “the zone”, some indefinable condition of higher consciousness that transcended their normal waking reality, a zone wherein they could concentrate all the mental and physical faculties at their disposal and achieve the seemingly impossible. Alice had reached such a zone now, her hands flying over the keys, the music so faultless that it took her own breath away. The familiar movements of the piece seemed new, fresh as if she had never heard them before, emitting from a will that was both hers and yet apart from her. Ever since the days of her c***dhood when she had learned to love the piano she had wanted to achieve this perfection when the instrument was no longer a technicality to be mastered but an effortless expression of the music flowing in her veins, almost a part of her body, an extension of her fingertips.
As she played Rebecca entered the room looking for her and drawn to the music from the room. Lady Mathom raised a finger to her lips and beckoned Rebecca to her side where she knelt on the floor and rested against her Mistress’ knee staring at Alice at the piano, her eyes shining in wonder. Lady Mathom laid a hand on Rebecca’s head affectionately and her eyes grew misty with the lovely music. When Alice finished the piece there was a deep silence, the silence that all artists long for but rarely achieve, when the audience is too awestruck to even applaud. Rebecca broke the silence with a gasp “That was fantastic Alice!”
Lady Mathom applauded warmly “You have a prodigious talent Alice. You played wonderfully!” she turned to Rebecca at her side “You never told me that your new friend from Bolswick Bay was a virtuoso at the piano Rebecca.”
“I never knew My Lady. Alice has never mentioned that she plays piano.”
Lady Mathom looked back at Alice. “Where did you learn to play so well Alice?”
“I …I er used to play a bit when I was in t’ Bay ma-am. I ‘ad…had a piano teacher there… a Dr Mannstein.” Alice remembered the uncompromisingly stern master of her lessons, the man that would drive her to do things she thought beyond her. He would make her sit for hours at an end at the piano until her back and finger’s ached, barking commands at her as he strode up and down the room overlooking the sea beating the rhythm with his hands. He would never take no for an answer, would never accept a moment of surrender, never for a moment concede that a piece might be too difficult for her. The hours of Mozart, Bach, Brahms, Beethoven, Schubert and so many others were a whirl of unrelenting challenge and when he was displeased she would come home crying yet his rare praise had been moments of exultant triumph. Nobody in Alice’s life had demanded so much of her and achieved so much. She blessed the miserable, cantankerous old man gratefully now.
“Yes I know of Johann Mannstein Alice. He must have been delighted to have so apt a pupil.”
“Er … not always ma-am. He were a bit strict wi’ me!”
“It seems to have paid dividends Alice. Do you still play often?”
“Er .. no. Not much now My Lady. Since we moved up to Teescastle I ‘aven’t ‘ad much chance like.”
“That is a criminal waste Alice! A talent such as yours should be nurtured and not allowed to fall by the wayside. I sincerely hope that now you are returning to Bolswick Bay that you take up playing seriously again. Dr Mannstein is one of the finest products of the Stuttgart music academy. I saw him once many years ago perform Brahms’ second piano concerto and it was ethereal. You could have no better teacher Alice.”
“Yes ma-am. I… er I ‘ave you to thank for us movin’ back to Bolswick Bay My Lady.”
Lady Mathom rose “We must talk at greater length a little later Alice. I’m afraid your playing has lured me away from my duties for the moment and I must return to them. We will take tea at half past four and dinner at eight if that is convenient for you. We’ll have more time to talk at our leisure then. In the meantime welcome to Mathom Hall. I hope your visit will be enjoyable and profitable. Thank you very much for the recital. If you girls would excuse me now?” Rebecca rose and curtsied, Alice followed suit a little self-consciously and the Lady swept out.
Alice let out her breath. “So that’s your Mistress Becky!”
“Indeed it is! What do you think?”
“She’s bl**dy fantastic! I thought she were gonna be some awd crinkly or summat! God I nearly shat mesen when she introduced hersen! When I fust saw ‘er I thought she must be one of your… you know your mates or summat. I couldn’t believe it when she said she were Lady Mathom! Ah do now though! That is one ‘ell of a Lady!”
“She’s far out isn’t she? Where did you meet her?”
“Just in ‘ere. I was playin’ on t’ piano and ah didn’t notice ‘er come in. She must ‘ave bin sat there fer ages! She seems to know loads about music.”
“She knows “loads” about nearly everything Alice. She certainly seems impressed by you! You’re a dark one Alice! You never told me you were a concert standard pianist!”
“Oh I’m not that good.”
“You bl**dy well are! I play a bit myself although I’m nowhere near your standard. Nevertheless I can tell when somebody is bl**dy good. So can the Lady. She’s an accomplished musician herself and if she says you’ve got talent then you’ve got talent! Do you own your own piano?”
“Ell no! Couldn’t afford it!”
“I’ll make you a little prediction Alice. Before you leave this house on Thursday morning you will not only be a slave of the Purple Lady but you will also be getting Daniel to draw up plans for the music atelier extension to your new house to fit your new grand piano in. Care to take a small wager on that?”
“Oh ‘ell Becky she couldn’t do that!”
“I know my Mistress Alice. You don’t…. yet. You’ve impressed her mightily. She’ll have you chained to the legs of a concert grand before this week is out so you’d better start getting used to it!”
“Ah’ve allus wanted to be a concert pianist Becky. It were me dream when I were young. I suppose t’ Lady were right. It’s a right shame I never kept it up. It were me dream.”
“Do you know the motto of this house Alice?”
“Nay Becky. What is it?”
“It’s “Audeo Somnio”, to Dare to Dream. Remember what I told you in Saltersea? Dreams do come true! You just have to have the courage to dream them.”
Alice looked sombre but her mind was soaring. Yes dreams could come true. The little house at Bolswick Bay was testimony to that. And this great house! It was a dream too wasn’t it? It was a dream that made dreams reality and its strange and beautiful Mistress the wielder of those dreams. Alice cleared her throat “Becky, yer know when you an’ Robin said that I’d ‘ave to become ‘Er Ladyship’s slave?”
“Yes.”
“Well when she were an’ she ‘eld me ‘ands an’ talked ter me I felt like I already was. Like this was my Missus an’ all I ever wanted ter do was mek ‘er pleased wi me. If’n she’d told us to go down t’ garden an’ jump in t’ lake ah’d ‘ave done it if it’d med ‘er ‘appy! Does that sound daft?”
Rebecca laughed and embraced her “Not at all Alice. On the contrary! It sounds all too familiar. Welcome to the House of Mathom s****r!”
“I aven’t even thanked ‘er proper for payin’ fer us ‘ouse!”
“You’ll do that when you take your manacles and her brand on your breast Alice. Come on now I’m starving and it’s a long time until tea so let’s see if we can rustle up some calories out on the terrace whilst we wait for the boys to return.” The two girls left the chamber arm in arm. The dreams hung heavy in the air about them.
________________________________________________________________________
... Continue»
Posted by Mikebasil 2 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Lesbian Sex  |  Views: 525  |  
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The Bully Part 2

The idea of Soul Mates started with Greek Philosopher Plato. He proposed that long ago Humans were giants with two heads, four arms and four legs. But Zeus King of the Gods feared their power and split everyone apart. It is that drive to complete ourselves that fuels the search for the Soul Mate.

I was never one to believe in such nonsense, then I met Erin. There was just something about her that resonated with me. Where most people could see her tough angry shell I saw the scared and vulnerable girl within.

And so it was that a Month later I announced my epic plan.

"I'm gonna make Erin Hardy fall in love with me!"

"What?" Mouse asked.

"You heard me, Erin Hardy will be mine this I swear!"

Mouse ran over and placed his hand on my forehead.

"You don't seem to have a Fever..did you fall and hit your head? Quick how many fingers am I holding up?"

"I mean it man, she may be all tough and angsty but somewhere deep down is a girl who just wants to be loved."

"What are you talking about Scott, the Girl hates you! Do you remember when she sent that College wrestling guy after you?" Mouse asked.

Like I could ever forget! A few weeks earlier Mouse and I were hanging out at a local Diner when the familiar Pick-up pulled into the lot and from the back came a giant of a Man. The dude had no neck, just shoulders. He slipped inside the door and to our table.

"The Lady said you need to go!" he said in a voice that would send Andre the Giant running for the hills.

"Then why doesn't she come in and tell me, why send a Delivery Boy?"

Needless to say the Giant didn't like being called a Delivery Boy because the next thing I knew I was on the Blacktop with a split lip.

I tried to get to my feet but found I was unable. As the Giant came at me I slipped between his massive Haunches and came up behind him. With such a thick neck he had trouble turning his head and I used that to my advantage. I knew that a big guy like him probably has knee problems so a swift kick to the sensitive back of the knee was all I needed to send him to the ground, then a Roundhouse to the back of the Head and it was lights out.

"I remember winning that fight Mouse."

"Barely...but that's besides the point. How do you intend to even get close to Erin without he stabbing you in the liver?"

"Mr. Mendez's class." I said.

Mr. Mendez is the Biology teacher. As Teachers go he's actually very cool. His teaching style is fun and imaginative. Erin also happens to be in his class, and Mr. Mendez asked me to help Erin who was failing.

"I'm gonna seduce her while I help her pass Bio!" I said with a sheepish grinn.

"Yeah Good Luck with that!"

... Continue»
Posted by Johnny_Lee_Miller 2 years ago  |  Categories: First Time, Sex Humor, Taboo  |  Views: 543  |  
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The Bully: Part 3

My plan to soften the Stone wall that was Erin Hardy was entering it's second week. After five days of one-sided banter I found myself contemplating another strategy.

"I'm gonna join the Crew!" I said with a smile.

"You wanna join Erin's crew...why?" Mouse asked.

"To get close to her and win her over man."

"And how do you plan to do that my good sir." he asked.

"Phase one, I steal her truck."

"I'd like to see you try, they never leave it unguarded for long."

"Yeah that would be a problem if I didn't already do it." I said handing him my iPhone. On the screen was a snapshot of me behind the wheel.

"That...is...so...cool!" Mouse said with a giggle.

The next morning the school was in an uproar, "someone" had boosted the Crew's ride from right outside Erin's house. As Erin and the bunch strolled off the Bus the students cheered at their collective misfortune.

"Takin' the Bus Erin, what happened to that sweet Ford?" I asked sarcastically.

"I can't prove it Scott, but I know you had something to do with this. You seem to have a problem with me and my crew, what gives?" she asked.

"Truth, yes I boosted your ride. The reason is simple...I want in."

Erin looked at me with a skeptical look on her face.

"What makes you think you can hack it?" she asked.

"Please I can boost faster and beat harder then any of the jokers you got."

"Is that so?" she asked.

"Yeah, let me prove it." I said.

"Fine you got a shot, be at the old Starlight Lanes Bowling Alley tonight. If you pass you're in, if you fail we stomp a mudhole in you."

As the crew walked off Mouse trotted over. "Can you really do all that stuff?" he asked.

"My dad was an Airf***e Officer Mouse, I grew up around Military guys. I learned Krav Maga from Israeli Mossad, Defensive Driving from Army Rangers, and Auto Mechanics from the Motorpool. The only thing I don't know is where the Bowling Alley is."

"I show you." he said

"I can't deny this effect you have on me." Erin said out of breath.

"Then don't, just open up that shell." I said softly sliding my hand under her shirt.

As I fondled her ample tit she moved her hand to my crotch and began to massage my prick over my pants. As it got harder the outline became more noticeable. "Oh my!" she said with a smile. I held my breath as she unzipped my zipper and reached inside. As we locked eyes she smiled and said "You're gonna be late."

"What?" I asked.

"Dude wake up you're gonna be late!"

I opened my eyes and saw Mouse standing over me. Looking at my Alarm I could see the 1 AM deadline was swiftly approaching.

"I was dreaming." I said.

"I can tell, the Anaconda was a dead giveaway."

I looked at my shorts and saw that I was indeed sporting wood.

"Yeah sorry about that." I said.

"Sorry...just gave me one more reason to hate you."

"What was that?" I asked.

"Nothing...It's just if I was packing that much Shvantz in my shorts I'd be hitting on Girls with a lot less baggage then Erin Hardy."

"Yeah but I have a fondness for Challenges Mouse, Erin's a puzzle and I aim to solve her. And here's you acting all coy, like you and Slone aren't hooking up."

"What...Slone's just my Social Studies partner." he said.

"Yeah right, the girl's so totally into you." I said.

"She is not, she hardly ever gives me eyecontact when we're working together."

"She might seem aloof but really she's hanging on your every word. I guarantee if you ask her out on a date she'll say yes."

"And then she'll be hungry for my junk!" Mouse said.

"Wooh don't get ahead of yourself. Take it slow, it's a Marathon not a Sprint."

Mouse and I walked to the field where I stashed the truck then drove it to the field.

"You want me to stay?" he asked.

"If you like, if I come out running twist these two wires together and touch them to the Ignition switch."

As I jumped from the cab Mouse slid over behind the Wheel.

"Good luck!" he said.

"Luck...who needs luck when you've got skill!" ... Continue»
Posted by Johnny_Lee_Miller 2 years ago  |  Categories: Mature, Sex Humor, Taboo  |  Views: 391  |  
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Slaves of the Amethyst (part fifteen)



Rebecca woke first in the cellars and gazed in total satisfaction at the sl**ping Jennifer, face down, at her side. She was beautiful with her auburn tresses lying in a great sheath on the pillow. Fondly Rebecca stroked her back feeling the traces of the whip on the velvet skin. Jennifer stirred and murmured in her sl**p. Rebecca felt an over powering love for the lovely girl at her side and bent to kiss her softly on the back. Part of her mind was still lost in the enchantment of the afternoon and night before and she closed her eyes revelling in the memory of it. Their whipping had been an act of consecration. Sebastian had curled the lash around both their bodies until they screamed in mutual torment. The flogging had seemed to last forever and their burning bodies had been slick against each other with perspiration and they could taste the saltiness of the tears on each other’s face. At last it had ended and Sebastian had left them to blubber out their love for each other through their anguished sobs. By the time Sebastian had returned to release them they’d been on fire with passion and they’d clung to each other in a frenzy. So heated had their desire been that they’d collapsed to the stone floor and started to make love immediately. Sebastian had retired discreetly. For the rest of the afternoon and well into the night they’d slaked their lust on each other in delirium, driving each other into madness by scoring their fingernails across each other’s whip marks and releasing one monumental orgasm after another. They’d added scratches and bite marks to their weals and bruised each other in the fury of their passion. At one point Rebecca had played the man to Jennifer and had utilised a strap-on artificial penis to pin her to the bed and ravish her fiercely. Jennifer had screamed under the violation and thrust her hips against Rebecca’s in an orgy of indulgence as the echoes of the thunder from outside rumbled down into the cellars. Well into the night they had collapsed, finally exhausted, and deep untroubled sl**p had claimed them.
Rebecca sighed in the recollection. This girl was now hers forever. They’d made vows of terrible finality in the aftermath of their whipping and committed themselves for the duration of their lives to the love of each other in the sweet moments between the satiation of their desire and blissful sl**p. There was one last thing that Rebecca wanted to do to cast this bonding in solid granite and she was worried, for she needed pleasant weather for it. Leaving the little cell quietly, so as not to wake Jennifer, she made her way to the dining chamber. With deep gratification she saw that the rain of last night was gone and the morning sun was lancing down through the skylights overhead from a blue sky. It was just perfect for the day of wonder she had long planned. Sebastian entered the chamber and she greeted him with a fond kiss.
“I trust that you slept well Miss Rebecca.”
“Beautifully Sebastian!”
“I am pleased to hear it. The day has dawned most pleasantly Miss. I think it will be quite hot by this afternoon. I’ve ordered your car for half past nine just after breakfast as you desired. I understand you will be taking luncheon with Shiro-san.”
“That’s correct Sebastian and we’ll be sl**ping in the garden so I’m afraid I shall be taking your charge away from you.”
“I shall certainly miss her Miss Rebecca. It has been a delight to have her here.”
“I’m sure you will see her again in the near future. She’s very fond of you and I’m certain she’ll be a frequent visitor. We’ll both visit you!”
“You fill me with great joy Miss Rebecca and you are always welcome.”
“I know Sebastian. I love you!”
The feeling is entirely mutual Miss. You grace these humble caverns with your presence.”
“Thank you Sebastian. I’ll go and wake Jenny now and we can bathe and have our breakfast.”
Jennifer woke dreamily to Rebecca’s kisses and tried to drag her back into bed. Rebecca laughed and told her “No time now darling! We’ve got a tight schedule so we must be up and away. It’s eight o’clock now and breakfast is at half past so let’s go jump in the bath.”
“What is this schedule Becky?”
“It’s a surprise Jenny! Something wonderful. There’ll be magic in the air today! Come on shift your sweet fanny!”
After breakfast Sebastian came into the dining chamber carrying two long cloaks over his arm. “Your car is waiting ladies and I’ve brought you your robes.”
“Car? What car?” asked Jennifer in bewilderment.
“We’re leaving the cellars Jenny honey. Last night was your last night down here!”
Oh we’re going upstairs?”
“Not immediately Jenny. We’re … er… taking a little detour you might say!”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere special! You’ll see! Now say goodbye to Sebastian.”
“Oh!” Jennifer was flustered and confused but she jumped up to hug Sebastian “Thank you Sebastian! I… I’ll never forget these last few days. Thank you so much!”
“The pleasure was entirely mine Miss Jennifer. I do hope that your stay was not too uncomfortable.”
Jennifer laughed, “I don’t know how to answer that Sebastian! If a week ago somebody had told me what was going to happen to me and had told me that it would be sheer bliss I would have thought them quite mad!”
“Well then I am content Miss Jennifer. It has been a great joy to have you here. I do hope that you will visit me again soon.”
“Oh I will! I will I promise!”
“I am most gratified to hear it Miss. Now your cloak Miss if you will allow me.” Sebastian held out a long cloak in silvery green. It had no sleeves but just d****d over the shoulders and fastened with a clasp at the collar. Other than that it fell just loosely nearly to the ankles. You had to clutch it about yourself to hide your nakedness beneath. Jennifer was surprised.
“Are we to leave the house dressed like this?”
“That’s right Jenny.” Rebecca told her. “Just a cloak and a pair of sandals. Don’t worry you won’t need more where we are going.” Rebecca’s cloak was in deep purple.
“I’m not worried Becky! Its more clothes than I’ve worn all week! It feels strange to have anything on at all other than my collar and cuffs to tell the truth but you mentioned a car. Does that mean that we might have to appear in public like this?”
“We’re not going far Jenny and it will be very, very private; very secret.” Rebecca donned her own cloak and the pair of them slipped on light sandals. Wishing Sebastian a final farewell Rebecca led Jennifer up some steps to a doorway that opened out into the grounds. As they left the cellars Jennifer looked back with something akin to grief at her parting. That those caverns of torment could have become such a domain of comfort and contentment she could scarcely credit. She knew that she had left a part of her, wandering those dungeons forever. Chester accompanied her to the door and she reached down to stroke his large head one last time but he would not venture beyond the confines of his strange underworld. She was sorry to part from him. There were tears in the hazel eyes that blinked in the brightness of the morning sunshine.
A limousine was waiting for them there and a uniformed chauffeur held the door open for them. Jennifer clutched her cloak tightly about herself and climbed into the big car hastily. Once they were both seated the driver steered the car around the Hall and down the long drive to the gates of the grounds. Jennifer looked at Rebecca questioningly but her companion just patted her hand and smiled. Beyond the grounds the driver transported them through the countryside and then up onto the fell tops above. On a lonely road across the heather clad hillside the car stopped and the chauffeur rushed around to open their door for them.
“Here we are Jenny!” Rebecca informed her.
Jennifer climbed out of the car in complete bewilderment. There seemed nothing but the bare hills and moorland in every direction. “Here Rebecca? But there’s nothing here! We’re just up on the fells here!”
“Oh but there is Jenny! Look.” Rebecca pointed to a simple dirt track leading over the swell of the hill. “That’s our path. That’s the track to a fairy kingdom honey. It’s not far and this is going to be the experience of your life believe me!” Jennifer shook her head in confusion. The big car drove off and left them on the lonely hillside with the breeze in their hair. “Come on Jenny! We don’t want to give some old shepherd up here a heart attack now do we?” Slowly they walked along the track serenaded by the skylarks on the hilltop. The ground rose for some distance but then began to descend. They came upon a tiny stream and the path followed it, questing downwards. Eventually they rounded a crest and Jennifer realised that they must have taken a roundabout route in the car for she could see the great Hall far in the distance. The little stream plunged down into a little valley and they followed it until they came to a gate. It was a strange entrance, an ornamental brick archway closed by a wrought iron gate bearing a sign declaring this to be private property. Beside the gate was a large gong and a hammer hanging on a chain. Rebecca took the hammer and struck at the gong three times and its sonorous reverberations echoed in the little valley. “Make a wish Jenny.” She told her.
“Where does this gateway lead to Becky?”
“This is the way down into the Oriental Gardens Jennifer. Beyond here, if you like, lies the spiritual home of our House. This is the most magical place in Mathomdale. This is our Garden of Eden Jenny. This is where our spirits live! Now make a wish!”
Jennifer looked at the cuffs still on her wrists and the lovely Rebecca looking at her expectantly. In her mind’s eye she saw all the people that she was coming to regard as her f****y, Rachel, the twins, Abigail, Sebastian, Alice, her wonderful Julie and finally the overpowering presence of her Mistress. “I think all my wishes have come true already Rebecca.”
“There’re always wishes and dreams Jenny! Look there.” Rebecca pointed to a gilded plaque on the wrought iron gate. It said, “Audio Somnio” “That’s Latin. It means dare to dream. It’s the motto of our House Jenny. Beyond these gates there are dreams. You only have to wish them to come true. We’re the House of Mathom, your original dream team!”
“Oh!” Jennifer felt a rush of anticipation. She had heard things about these gardens. Rachel had talked of them briefly with a far away look in her eye and a wistful tone to her voice. They had cast a spell over her Jennifer knew but it was intensely personal and Rachel hadn’t elaborated on what she had found beyond these gates. Silently Jennifer made a wish but never ever told anybody what it was she had wished for. Rebecca unlatched the gate and the two young women passed into the realm beyond. The stream wound through a small vale until it took a sharp bend and passed into a small and narrow gorge. At the head of this gorge Jennifer drew in her breath sharply. Standing guard at each side of the entrance to the narrow defile were two enormous sphinxes carved from the stone of the cliff face. They stood some ten metres high and their nether regions were in the form of great squatting cats whilst their upper torsos were those of naked women. The faces on the huge statues were serene with closed eyes. Rebecca walked forward and bowed formally before the two statues beckoning Jennifer to do the same. Rebecca spoke formally in a clear voice.
“These two humble slaves beg permission to pass this portal and ask the blessing of the Goddess within her inner realm.” There was a stillness in the air and Jennifer half expected some sonorous voice from within the rock to bid them enter and bless them. But Rebecca straightened up and took her by the hand. Jennifer could feel Rebecca’s hand trembling slightly and she saw that her face was flushed with excitement. “They’re called the Sentinels Jenny.” she whispered almost as if fearing that the two statues could hear her. “They guard the inner entrance to the gardens. It’s very bad luck to pass them without asking for permission and the blessing of the Goddess.”
“I see.” Jennifer was mesmerised by the atmospheric intensity of that quiet place with the little bubbling brook weaving between the awesome figures of the two sphinxes. Rebecca led her by the hand into the little gorge. There were caves in the cliff faces and more water poured from them adding to the little brook until it was a much more substantial stream. They wended their way along a stony path at the side of the brook. At one point the path ended in a sheer rock face and they crossed the stream by means of a high arched stone bridge with low pa****ts to continue on the other side. The stream sounded loud in the narrow confines of the gorge and in places dropped over waterfalls of exquisite beauty where the track was carved from the cliff face and had wooden railings high above the rushing water. They walked without speaking, as if the sound of their voices would defile the tranquillity of that narrow canyon, and gripped each other’s hand as if fearful that they might be spirited away by whatever nymphs ruled within these quiet cliffs. Finally the gorge opened out and they crossed the stream once more over a little wooden bridge and passed into a little vale of heartbreaking loveliness. Here the ground was nearly flat and the stream became a tranquil meandering bubbling brook over the tiniest of little waterfalls between verdant closely cropped meadows whose grass seemed more like a velvet carpet studded with wild flowers.
Jennifer gasped in wonderment. This peaceful hollow seemed some sort of natural perfection and beyond it she could gaze down into the gardens stretching away into the distance. She could see miniature forests, terraces of rock and small cliffs intertwined with harmonious shrubs, towering trees and inviting glades. There were pavilions, towers and tall pagodas peering tantalisingly between the trees and the glint of water on still pools and running streams. The place didn’t seem connected to reality at all. It was a true fairyland almost impossible to take in at a first glance. It was a tapestry of harmonising colour and shape. It was so perfect that it brought a lump to the throat. In a blinding flash she understood the tremor in Rebecca’s voice when she talked of this place.
“Goddess! How beautiful Rebecca!” she breathed.
Rebecca’s eyes were shining in the way that people’s do when they have sprung a lovely surprise on one dear to them. “It’s quite something isn’t it?”
Jennifer was breathless “Oh Rebecca! If I could capture this on canvas I would call myself an artist indeed! I’ve never seen anywhere like it! Goddess how big is this place?”
“From the portal of the Sentinels to the Bridge of Despair it’s about four miles long and maybe half that wide at its widest point. It’s growing as well. Each year it gets just a little bit larger, a couple of feet here a yard or two there, as it gradually takes more and more of the grounds and lands about into its essence. There’s a legend that says that one day, in some remote and unforeseeable future, when mankind has finally come to redemption, it will cover the world and we’ll all live in the garden forever more.”
Jennifer looked around the little vale. It was impossible to tell whether this harmonious perfection was natural or contrived by human hand. Every rock and boulder, each little stunted tree or shrub, every calm pool in the little stream seemed so natural yet at the same time just so perfectly placed to create a perfection of harmony. “Is this real Rebecca? I mean is this just natural or has it been fashioned like this?”
Rebecca laughed. “Nearly everybody asks that Jenny! The truth is that it’s both. It is both nature and artifice at the same time. The genius of these gardens is that they don’t recognise human beings as unnatural. In here human artifice harmonises with natural beauty. In fact the very concept of natural beauty is a human artifice. You don’t expect a squirrel to appreciate the loveliness of the tree it lives in. But humans can and do. This is what makes us human in many respects. We change our environment around us all the time and often we just make it ugly. These gardens show the full flowering of human ingenuity. Here nature has been crafted, enhanced, nurtured to display its full beauty. Do you see that boulder over there?” Jennifer looked at the large white boulder. It was set on the velvety carpet of short grass with a tiny wild rose bush along side. It was strange. Its whiteness was almost luminescent and there were dark thin veins in it that resembled the patterns drawn by some ancient people in celebration of their existence and culture. It was easy to imagine enigmatic messages in the network of the dark lines. “That’s called the Stone of Forgetfulness Jennifer. I know the lady who had it placed here. They found it quarrying in the hills nearby and she spent nearly three months in meditation before deciding to place it here. Apparently they made a full ritual out of it and blessed it in its new location. She planted that little rose bush by the side of it with her own hands yet you’d swear that it just grew up there on its own. She told me about that stone some years ago. She cried when she told me.”
“Cried? But why?”
“Because she can never see it again Jennifer.” Rebecca looked sad. She indicated a little stone bench by a series of flat rocks traversing the stream “Come let’s sit awhile and take in the view and I’ll tell you something about these gardens.” They wrapped their cloaks about them and sat on the bench. “You’re very privileged to see these gardens Jennifer.” she continued. “We call them the Oriental Gardens but that’s not strictly accurate because they’re neither exclusively oriental nor completely occidental. They’re a mixture of cultures and styles borrowing from lands all over the world. They have elements of the gardens of Shalamar in the Punjab, Japanese gardens, recreations of the Summer Palace in China, the finest examples of English landscape gardening and just a huge crafting of the natural beauty of the valley. They are quite unique Jennifer. Some people have considered them to be one of the wonders of the world yet very few people have ever seen them. If they were opened to the public then you’d have millions queuing up to see them. There is certainly no other garden in England that comes remotely close to their perfection and possibly not in the world yet it is a private reserve of the House of Mathom. The Hall itself contains treasures of incalculable value but there is probably nothing that can equal the aesthetic value of these carefully tended gardens.”
“Who made them Rebecca?”
“Ah I was coming to that Jenny. Today you are doubly privileged because you are going to meet the architect behind this loveliness. She is one of the most extraordinary people I have ever met Jenny. She’s Japanese and her name is Yuki Shiro but everybody calls her Shiro-san. This…” Rebecca swept her hand around to encompass the magical scenery below them, “... is all hers. She is Queen here and this is her realm. Even our Mistress defers to her within these gardens Jenny. They say she has lived within these gardens for over two hundred and fifty years and she never leaves them.”
“What never?”
“Not once Jennifer! Ever! This is all the world she requires. She has seven slaves under her. They change from time to time but there are always seven because it’s a lucky number. There are always four women and three men. Of course other people come in to help from time to time but those seven and herself live here permanently. Many of her slaves live with her for years, decades even and when they part another takes their place. The lady I told you about lived in these gardens for nearly twenty years before leaving to found a f****y without. But there is a rule that nobody that has ever lived here as a tender of these gardens may ever return once they have left. They are not even allowed to set foot beyond the boundaries of the garden. When they leave they say their farewell at the bridge at the end of the gardens and they can never cross back in. That’s why it’s called the Bridge of Despair. It’s as if when they leave they have turned their back on paradise.”
“Oh that’s terrible!”
“Not really Jennifer. I suppose they carry the garden about in their heads for the rest of their lives and many of them go on to become great gardeners in other places but you can see the sadness in them when they talk of their days in here. Me? I couldn’t do it. I’m not the meditative type that could spend all year fashioning a little waterfall on some tiny little rivulet that hardly anybody’s going to see anyway but there are people to whom such a life is very attractive and spiritually rewarding. We should just be happy that we’re allowed to share in the creation that they have made. I said before that these gardens are our spiritual home Jenny. Well I wasn’t being flippant. People who experience these gardens never forget them. When you walk beyond the Bridge of Despair you always leave some part of you behind. That part comes back to haunt you in your dreams. Whenever I feel tense or depressed or life just gets too much I can close my eyes and I’m back here walking these gardens in the springtime when the cherries are blossoming and scent their blooms in my nostrils. I’ve come here many times seeking peace and a moment of forgetfulness from the world beyond and always it feels new and fresh to me. Here’s the place where we find our serenity. This is the garden of the Goddess.”
Jennifer looked at her lover in astonishment. She knew of Rebecca’s consuming passions but she had never seen her so wistfully contemplative. She looked old beyond her years yet younger than she had ever seen her, the sagacity of great age mingled with the wonder of a c***d. The gentle little vale seemed a perfect setting for this beautiful woman Jennifer so loved, as if she herself had been planted there with loving care, another flower to enhance the enchantment of this private place. “But this place is huge Rebecca. Surely it can’t all be made and maintained by just eight people.”
“No of course not Jenny. Many other gardeners and helpers come in to help with all the work but Shiro-san and her slaves are the brains behind the whole affair. Nothing gets done in here without their say so. I suppose you could say that Shiro-san is to these gardens what Sebastian is to the cellars and caverns, Mistress and Master of their own domains.”
“You said that the Lady defers to this Shiro-san. Does that mean that she has no authority here?”
“Goddess no! These gardens are the property of the House of Mathom. They are a part of the Lady’s empire and she is supreme over them. No what I meant is that she grants autonomy to the Mistress of the gardens and when she comes here she concedes her authority to the lady of the gardens. But ultimately these pleasure gardens grew out of the Purple Lady’s vision. She has her own pavilions within the gardens. We sometimes jokingly refer to the gardens as the Summer Palace. Come on we’ve talked enough let’s walk down and explore.”
Jennifer never forgot the enchantment of that walk down into the Oriental Gardens. At virtually every turn there was some new wonder to behold. There were exquisite glades and picnic grounds, perfect little waterfalls, springs and quiet pools. There were lily-clad ponds with little islands in them with tiny pavilions on that you reached by extraordinary small bridges. There were groves of ornamental trees that seemed just perfection. One Rebecca called the Sato Zakura garden made up from hosts of dwarf ornamental cultivated cherry trees grafted onto wild cherry trees. “You should see this place in the spring Jennifer when all the cherries are blossoming in pinks and whites. There’re over thirty different forms within this part of the garden alone. That one over there with the drooping branches is a Cheal’s Weeping Cherry but most of the varieties have Japanese names. That one’s a Hokusai and the tall conical one over there is an Amanogawa. A bit further down I’ll show you the magnolia groves. They’re glorious too in the springtime. Each spring we have a garden party in here to enjoy the blossoms.” The little carefully tended path weaved between the small trees and Jennifer could see how the petals of the blossoms would form a gentle snow of pinks and whites as you walked beneath the boughs and the small pond within the groves would have its surface carpeted by the falling petals. Before long Jennifer had no idea where they were anymore, for Rebecca led them often aside to examine hidden corners and explore a bewildering assortment of exquisitely beautiful features.
Jennifer was surprised to find many classical influences mixed in with the Oriental influences such as Greco-Romanic statuary and fountains. “Don’t forget that these gardens pre-date Shiro-san’s tenure as Mistress of them.” Rebecca told her.
“You mean she didn’t create them then?”
“They were started really in the late fifteenth century. Some of the oldest parts show the influences of that era. You’ll find a lot of influence from the renaissance within the inner gardens, Shiro-san took over the gardens in the eighteenth century and it’s only from then that they started to attain their oriental characteristics. Shiro’s genius was to harmonise the previous European formal gardens with an oriental style and at the same time introduce the 18th and 19th century English landscape gardening styles that grew up out of people such as Capability Brown giving the whole place a sort of hybrid character. Many of the styles within the garden can be seen all over the place throughout the grounds but it’s only really in here that they achieve such a totality of perfection. This side valley is the jewel in the crown of all our parks and gardens.” Rebecca led her over to a stone fountain, like a large horse trough, of obvious Italian influence with reliefs carved on the stonework. Water gurgled out of a metal pipe at its base where a little rose bush grew. “Recognise this Honey?” Rebecca asked.
“It … it seems familiar. I can’t put my finger on it though.”
“It’s called the Fountain of Venus. There’s a study of it in a painting in the Hall. It’s the same fountain depicted in Titian’s masterpiece “Sacred and Profane Love”. Nobody knows if the gardens borrowed the design of the fountain from Titian or whether Titian painted the fountain in his picture from this fountain.”
“Of course! Of course! I know the painting! Goddess I’d love to paint Helen and Heather sitting on it.”
“Why ever so?”
“The two women in the painting are identical Becky. They’re supposed to be two aspects of love. One of the women is naked whilst the other wears a 16th century Venetian wedding gown. You can’t tell that they’re exactly the same woman to begin with because one is turned sideways so you only see her in profile.”
“I see! A bit of nudge, nudge, wink, wink is it? This is what the bride looks like in her wedding frock and this is her a bit later on!”
Jennifer laughed “Something like that! Titian was certainly renowned for the eroticism of his work.”
“Well I think you’ll get short shrift out of the twins darling. They’re meticulous about keeping their figures trim and Titian’s models don’t look as if they’ve ever heard of dieting! Come on there’s something just along here I want to show you.” Rebecca led her by the hand through some more groves to a place of extraordinary peace and loveliness. It was a tiny, flower-clad glade containing a small stone cottage and a minute chapel.
“Oh this is lovely!” exclaimed Jennifer, although she was beginning to become repetitive in the use of that adjective.
“It’s called the Captain’s garden Jenny and there’s a story about it. It’s named for a Captain Richard Brownlow who lived here for many years.”
“Was he one of Shiro-san’s slaves?”
“Oh no Jenny! He wasn’t even of the Line. He was a Royal Navy captain on a frigate in the Second World War fighting in the Atlantic. He was decorated for bravery and had a tremendous war record. He had a wife and two young c***dren in London. Near the end of the war he returned home and found his house gone and his entire f****y dead. They’d been killed by a flying bomb. It broke him. He left London and came to live in the North of the country with relatives trying to find peace but he was a broken man. One day he decided to end it all. He wrote a long suicide letter and then came up to the hills above Mathomdale to find a place to die. He didn’t know Mathomdale and as he wandered about the hills he accidentally came upon the entrance to the Oriental Gardens and he drifted down into them. He was walking about entranced in the gardens when he came upon a young woman called Mary, who was an Alpha slave of Shiro-san, in this glade and fell in love with her. Shiro-san allowed him to live here and he built this cottage for himself and Mary and found peace after all. He lived all the rest of his life as a guest working in the gardens and never left them again. He died a few years ago and Mary left the gardens for good after she’d built that little chapel to lay him to rest in.”
Jennifer felt the tears pricking at her eyes “Oh that’s a beautiful story Rebecca; sad and beautiful.”
“We can find beauty even in our grief Jenny. I’ve talked to people that knew the old man. They say he used to potter about in the gardens singing bawdy sea shanties and tell them outrageous sailor’s stories on the veranda of his little cottage. Everybody loved the scandalous old rogue and it broke everybody’s heart when he finally died. They’ve left the cottage just as it was when he lived in it and it’s full of maritime artefacts and ships models that he used to make in his spare time.” Rebecca paused and looked wistful then she brightened up “Come along you can’t be sad for too long in here. Let’s move on. We’ve loads more to see!”
Indeed there was. Rebecca showed Jennifer perfect little pavilions in secret glades seemingly custom made for private lover’s trysts where the trees were hung with little lanterns. They climbed to the top of a high wooden pagoda and took in the panorama of the gardens from a balcony high above the treetops. Everywhere Jennifer’s senses were assailed by beauty. There seemed no end to the richness of this contrived landscape. You saw one idyllic little causeway across a mirror like pond and thought that it could not be bettered in perfection only to take another turn in the path and discover another treasure that surpassed it yet. There was a pavilion entirely gilded in burnished gold set among American Chestnuts that you just knew would blend perfectly into them in their golden autumnal foliage. Years, centuries, of thought and meditation had gone into the artful contrivance of these gardens. The sheer genius of it took one’s breath away. They passed through open groves where all the trees were hung with tiny silver bells that glittered and tinkled softly in the breeze and came upon little springs bubbling out of the ground that had been carefully opened to view and where you could kneel and drink the pure cold water thankfully on a hot day. Rebecca showed her one pavilion that straddled a small stream. It was long and open sided and the sides of the quietly flowing water were paved and you could sit cross-legged by the stream. “It’s based on a garden in Japan.” Rebecca told her. You’re supposed to come in here with a brush and a parchment and sit by the stream and compose a poem. At the far end of the pavilion somebody floats little cups of saki, rice wine, down the stream. If you haven’t finished your poem you’re supposed to pick them out of the water and drink them and replace the cup back on the water for somebody to collect at the other end. You’re not allowed to leave until you’ve composed your poem. It’s supposed to be in the waka or haiku forms of five lines or so.”
“Have you ever done that?”
“Oh yes in the springtime when we visit the cherry blossoms. Mind you I usually end up half canned! I’m not very poetical!”
“I think you’re lying! I’ve seen a poetic side to you.”
“You’d make anybody wax poetical Jenny darling! Come on let’s go kiss the Goddess!”
“Sorry?”
Rebecca laughed easily “You’ll see!” She led Jennifer through yet more entrancing and exquisite corners before bringing her out into a clearing containing a strange statue. It was of a life sized naked woman sitting with one arm arced away from her and the other held lower down and her face turned as if to receive a kiss. It was if she had some invisible lover held in her arms in tender embrace.
“What a strange statue!” Jennifer exclaimed.
“That’s because it’s incomplete Jennifer! Watch!” Rebecca shed her cloak on the lawn and climbed naked up onto the pedestal of the statue. She squirmed between the arms of the statue and sat on its lap folding her arms around the marble torso and placing her lips on those of the upturned face. Jennifer gasped. Suddenly the sculpture was complete. The marble figure now perfectly embraced Rebecca, one arm about her back and the other resting on her thigh. It was astonishing. The whole was now a work of two beautiful women, one in stone and the other in living flesh merged with each other in gentle lovemaking. She half expected the marble figure to come to life or for Rebecca to become petrified in stone to complete the tableau.
“Oh Goddess this I have to paint!”
Rebecca grinned down at her “It’s weird isn’t it? Go on you have a go now!” Bemusedly Jennifer replaced Rebecca on the statue. It felt perfectly shaped to accommodate her and the stone was cool against her naked skin. She felt her nipples brush the smooth grey marble and come erect in pleasure. She almost moaned in arousal so wanton did the pose feel. Rebecca clapped her hands in glee. “Perfect! Just perfect. Damn why didn’t we bring a camera?”
Jennifer left the statue and embraced Rebecca marvelling at the feel of her warm flesh after the cool stone. “Have we time Becky?”
“No we haven’t Jennifer! Behave yourself! We’ve been wandering about for hours and Shiro is expecting us. We don’t have any specific time to meet her but if we start where we left off last night we’ll never get there! Later though! Tonight we have all night to make love in the gardens!”
“Oh heavenly!”
Rebecca looked serious “Jenny there’s something that I want from you tonight. Something that is very special to me. I want you to do something for me. For the love of me will you do it?”
“What is it Rebecca?”
“I don’t want to tell you Jenny. Not yet. It’s a surprise. It may be difficult for you but it would mean a great deal to me. Will you do it?”
“Becky you came and shared my whipping yesterday in the cellars for the love of me. You didn’t have to do that but out of love you did it. So whatever you want me to do I shall, sight unseen, however terrible it is. I swear it!”
“Oh Jennifer thank you! It won’t be too terrible I promise you.” She kissed Jennifer and then clipped their cuffs together. “Beloved let’s go down into the inner sanctum now. To the heart of the magic.”
At the heart was a shallow lake and a causeway of broad stones that led to a large island at its centre. Carefully they walked across the causeway to the island. It was perhaps three acres in area of groves, lawns, flowerbeds, fountains, little summerhouses, shrubs and majestic trees. Once again there were bells hanging from the trees and dozens of Chinese lanterns. At the centre of the island was a complex large pavilion with a surrounding veranda and a tall tower all in carved and exotically painted wood. Rebecca had been right; this island felt like the epicentre of all the magic pervading these gardens. “Doesn’t seem to be anybody about.” murmured Rebecca.
Jennifer thought that strange for they hadn’t seen a single soul since they had set foot in the gardens. “Is … is this where she lives?”
“Yes this is Shiro’s palace Jenny. Well we’ll just wait until somebody comes along. There’s a rock garden over here I want you to see. We can sit by that.” When Rebecca said a “rock garden” she meant exactly that. Jennifer had a vision of a sort of rock shrubbery planted with alpine flowers and they must have seen dozens of examples of that so she was puzzled as to why Rebecca particularly wanted her to see this one. But this was very different. It consisted of a number of large rocks of differing sizes nestling in a bed of coarse pure white sand. The sand had been carefully raked to make fluffy looking patterns and Jennifer’s artistic eye immediately saw the point as they sat on the little surrounding wall gazing in fascination at the sunken garden. The rocks looked just like the peaks of mountains poking through the clouds. You could almost see in your mind’s eye the tiny figures of mountaineers atop the peaks or mountain goats walking sure-footedly on the slopes. Rebecca agreed with her. “But it changes Jenny.” She told her “Every few days somebody rakes the sand in a different way and the image changes. One day the stones are like an archipelago of islands in a tropical sea. The next time you see them they’ve raked the sand up into circular mounds around the rocks and they’re a series of fortresses standing on a plain. Then again you’ll come here and they’re a herd of wild b**sts curled up and sl**ping on the grasslands. There’re lots of these kinds of rock gardens in Japan. There’re famous ones in Kyoto I believe. They’re sometimes called Zen gardens because they’re made and maintained by Zen Buddhist monks at their temples. I can just sit and look at this for hours and let my imagination roam.”
“It’s just perfect Becky! Like everything here it’s just perfect! This whole place is just the most fantastic thing I ever saw!”
“I am so very glad that you like it” The two girls jumped to their feet startled by the sudden lilting voice behind them. Jennifer’s eyes widened in surprise. The owner of the voice in some ways was the most fantastic thing she had seen so far in the gardens. She was tiny, like a fragile doll, and extraordinarily beautiful with her oriental features and delicate high cheekbones, elegantly curved eyebrows and exquisite dark Asian eyes. Her dress was quite remarkable for she wore the full dress kimono of a geisha and her kimono was an art work in itself, a great sheath of sky blue silk decorated in amazing gold, white and black designs of trees, birds and distant mountains. A broad obi in pure gold was about her waist and her black hair was tied up on her head with delicate gold ornaments. Over her shoulder she carried a blue and gold parasol to shade her perfect skin from the heat of the afternoon sun. Rebecca clasped her hands together and bowed low in Asian fashion. “Konichi-wa Shiro-san!” Hastily Jennifer copied her and the lady bowed politely in her turn to them.
“And you are most welcome my ladies. It has been long since you visited us here in the gardens Lady Rebecca. You have been neglecting us.”
“Not for want of the desire to see them again and the pleasure of your wise company My Lady.”
The tiny Japanese woman turned to Jennifer and smiled enchantingly. “And you must be the lady Jennifer. I have heard much about you. You are very like your mother. She spent much time with us here beyond the last bridge. May I welcome you to our humble garden? May your stay here be one of peace and great joy.”
Jennifer swallowed and bowed once more “I… I thank you Shiro-san. Your garden has already brought more joy than this wretched slave can ever deserve. I thank you for the gift of it although I am not worthy of such a precious boon.”
“Ah Lady! You wrong yourself! You grace these gardens with your loveliness. The wall seat you reclined upon when I first saw you will be honoured. With your permission I will call it the Jennifer throne and each year on this day I will adorn it with flowers in memory of the first day that I set my eyes upon you.” Jennifer choked and blushed unable to express herself in the face of the deeply touching tranquillity that surrounded this tiny woman like a veil. She bowed low again not trusting herself to speak. “But come the Lady Rebecca and yourself must be thirsty and hungry. Let us retire to the veranda and I shall order refreshments for you.” Jennifer thrilled at the sound of the soft beautifully modulated voice. The English was impeccable but there was just enough hint of oriental accent to make it exotic and captivating. The woman glided across the lawn to the veranda, her kimono about her ankles, in studied grace. Jennifer could not take her eyes off her. This was the gentle magician that had woven her spell about these gardens of entrancement. You could not envision her in any other environment. She was indistinguishable from her own creation, perfect, subtly delicate and oh so fragilely beautiful. She belonged here as much as the butterflies that flitted over the flowery lawns, ephemeral, yet somehow indestructible in her harmonious preciousness.
On the veranda, beneath the maple trees, there was a low table, only a foot or so high and they knelt down on cushions beside it in Japanese style. Shiro-san clapped her hands lightly and a latticed door at the side of the pavilion slid open and two young women emerged bearing trays. Jennifer gazed at them in astonishment for they both wore full highly decorated silk kimonos but neither of them was Japanese. One was a ravenously beautiful blond girl in a red and gold kimono whilst the other was a fine boned attractive African woman with skin the colour of polished ebony dressed in a kimono of white with black patterns on it and a black obi. They lay their burdens down on the table in graceful symmetry and stood to bow low to their guests. Rebecca and Jennifer rose to bow in return as Shiro-san introduced them. The blond girl was called Daniela and she bid them welcome, her voice carrying a hint of central European accent about it. The African girl bore the name Nadira and her accent was difficult to place for her English was flawless. The two women knelt by the table and served their guests food and poured tea for them.
Jennifer realised that their approach must have been long observed for the food and tea were hot. She picked up her rice bowl admiring the fine china of it and blessing herself that she had learned to eat with chopsticks years ago for those were the only utensils on the table. The food was very Japanese in character with fine white rice, little pieces of fish marinated in soy sauce and delicate shrimps. There didn’t seem much chance of her gaining weight in the gardens. In fact she was thankful that the meal was so light for otherwise it might have distracted her from her host and she found it difficult to not stare at the extraordinary Japanese woman. She had a gracefulness that possibly only the Mistress of the Great Hall could have matched although she lacked the simmering sensuality of that rival. She just seemed so delicate. You would be afraid to touch her for fear of her shattering in your hands or of disturbing her tranquillity. But as Jennifer watched her she realised that this tiny woman was much less fragile than she appeared. She held an aura of immutable timelessness about her as if the world beyond her domain could change, crash in ruin or wither away and yet leave this woman and her garden unaltered. Like bamboo she might bend in the wind but never break and all her purpose was to maintain this little touch of earthly paradise she had fashioned out of the vision of her own serenity. For she was this garden Jennifer realised. This entire landscape was simply an extension of this woman’s inner being, indivisible from her as if the very garden grew in obedience to her irresistible harmony.
No wonder the Purple Lady had granted her the custody of this domain, appointed her keeper of this garden of the Goddess. She remembered her lessons that the Goddess was many things, sometimes wild and untameable, sometimes sweet and loving, other times hard and ruthless. She had the gentleness of a mother and the fiery passion of a lover. She was an imperious lady and a soft c***d that retained its sense of wonder. She was kind words, laughter and gentle caresses at the same time as She was strong, calculating and devious. She was also this woman Jennifer saw. Shiro-san carried the Goddess in her in a pure aspect. This serenity of beingness, this perfect harmonisation to her environment was the Goddess in a very specialised aspect. She saw Rebecca’s point that there was an analogy to be drawn between her and Sebastian. Both wore aspects of the Goddess perfectly adapted to the worlds they inhabited. She wondered how many other realms had the Purple Lady created and placed her acolytes in charge of. Was that her genius too that she could so easily recognise which aspect of the Goddess ruled one and place one into the environment most suited to that aspect? For Shiro-san could never be all the other aspects of the Goddess so purely. Only the Purple Lady could do that.
“Shiro-san? she asked “Rebecca tells me that my Mistress sometimes spends some time in these gardens. Is that very often?”
“Ah lady! You ask a great mystery of me. The Great Lady never leaves these gardens.”
“Rebecca says that nobody ever really leaves these gardens.”
“The lady Rebecca has great wisdom for her years. These gardens are but a dream and the spirit takes its dreams everywhere. The Great Lady taught us long ago that reality is but the sum total of our dreams. She granted me leave to dream my dreams in the gardens of Her House for these gardens are Her dream and my dream but a dream within a dream. The Great Lady cannot leave a place where she lives forever.”
Jennifer pondered these strange words. “Yes but does she sometimes bring her physical presence within these gardens?”
Shiro-san laughed and her merriment was like the tinkling of the bells in the bushes. “Ah so sorry lady! You are a precocious one! I must try not to avoid your questions with philosophies! Yes the Empress does bless these humble gardens with her visible presence from time to time although not as often as we would like. She has many realms to oversee and this is but a garden of dreams.”
“I would love to meet her in your beautiful garden Shiro-san.”
“But you already have my lady Jennifer. In the eye of your spirit she walks beside you through every grove. The kiss of the breeze in the cherry blossoms is her caress upon your skin. This is her dream. In here you walk the pathways of your Mistress’s spirit.”
“And you my lady Shiro?”
“I am among the most blessed of slaves lady. So much love does my Mistress bear me that she allows me to live in tender to her very dreams. Will you take some saki?”
“Yes thank you! I tried it once and I liked it.”
“And you lady Rebecca?”
“Yes My lady Shiro. I would love some.” The hot rice wine was served by two more girls, one an extraordinarily beautiful Chinese girl called Ming Ue and the other a blond woman of clearly English extraction called, incongruously, Doris, whose clear blue eyes seemed forever on the point of laughter. They poured the wine from a little flask that was even to the untutored eye a work of art with astonishing indigo designs on the delicate white china. The tiny little cups from which they sipped were special too. As Jennifer raised hers to her lips she saw that there was a purple eye painted onto the bottom of the inside of her cup. They drank the hot fragrant wine with great pleasure but as she regarded her empty cup she gasped. The painting on the interior had disappeared!
Shiro-san saw her startled surprise and laughed. “Ah forgive me Lady! It is just a little pleasantry of ours, a silly little indulgence! Doris pour the lady some more saki.” Doris seemed closer to laughter than ever as she refilled Jennifer’s cup. In the full cup the purple eye was clearly visible through the clear liquid.
Jennifer shook her head. “How does it work?” she asked.
Rebecca answered, “I don’t know exactly Jenny. I’ve seen them before. They work on some principle of refraction that only makes the picture visible when the cup is filled with liquid. They’re quite popular novelties in Japan. Often they have rude pictures in them. A friend of mine brought some back when she visited Tokyo a few years back. I haven’t a clue how they do it but they’re clever aren’t they?”
“They certainly are! It scared the daylights out of me! I truly thought they were bewitched!”
Rebecca laughed, “Shiro-san loves optical illusions Jennifer. These gardens are full of them. There’s one pavilion with a wall covering half a veranda that’s painted to exactly resemble the outside. You have to go back and look twice to discern where the wall ends and the outside scene begins. There’s all sorts of things like that in these gardens when you start looking for them.”
Shiro-san nodded, pleased. “All of the gardens are an illusion Lady Rebecca. But then isn’t everything?”
Rebecca smiled “After a few more cups of saki I’ll probably agree with you Shiro-san!”
“Saki is good for dreams and illusions Lady. Let Doris fill your cup and we can dream on together.”
“I must go soon Shiro-san.”
“You have to go?” asked Jennifer in surprise “But why and where?”
“Only temporarily Jenny. I’m coming back a little later in time for dinner. There’s just something I have to do first.”
“Whatever is it?”
“Just a little surprise Jennifer. Something to make our night in the gardens perfect.”
“I can’t keep up with all your surprises these last two days Rebecca!”
“Don’t you like them?”
“Of course I do! Every one has been magical. I just can’t help wondering what you are conjuring up this time.”
“Something special Jenny. You’ve trusted me this far trust me a little more.”
“I will.”
“Good. Can you look after Jennifer for me Shiro-san?”
“But yes Lady. Is there anything she requires particularly?”
“Yes. Will you have her whipped? There wasn’t time to do it earlier but our Mistress has said that she must be whipped every day until she is brought back to her.”
“But of course. We shall take her to the magnolia groves and she can bless the late summer blooms with her agony. Even the song birds in the trees will still their chatter to listen to her sweet screams.” Jennifer cast her eyes down and sought her inner harmony.
“Thank you Shiro-san. I will leave her with you then until later.”
When Rebecca had departed Shiro-san had Doris pour more saki for Jennifer. “Please take your time Lady. We shall take you to the magnolia groves when you have found your peace.”
Jennifer swallowed “Thank you Shiro-san. You do me great honour to permit my agony within your garden. I shall try to prove myself worthy of that honour.”
“Ah so sorry Lady but it is you who honour us! These gardens will be sweeter and more blessed yet for their having you share your pain with them. We shall plant flowers in the grove where you bless us with that pain and we shall call it the Jennifer grove forever more in memory of the honour you grant us.”
“You honour me too much but I thank you. I am ready now.”
“It is well Lady. Let us seek out the magnolia groves then.” The four slaves of Shiro-san had been kneeling on tatami mats but now rose in a single unified harmonious body to assist Jennifer to her feet and e****t her. Shiro-san led the way but her four women flanked Jennifer, carrying soft mats, as they passed over the causeway of stones across the lake and through the gardens to the magnolia groves. The groves were beautiful and the low Saucer Magnolias had a late flowering among their green foliage. Shiro-san seemed undecided as they walked among the groves. She’d see one lovely open space but shake her head and lead them onwards seeking some place of more fitting perfection. At last they came upon a truly idyllic corner where a little lawn lay between the trees and a tiny spring bubbled out at one side by a little statue of Pelutia, the mermaid of the House of Mathom. Shiro-san walked over the ground critically, even stooping to place the odd fallen petal of the Saucer Magnolias in a more balanced location. At last she seemed satisfied. She turned to Jennifer and asked, “Would this place please you Lady? Would this be fitting for the honour you grant us?”
“Why it’s perfect Shiro-san. I am deeply touched that you have found so beautiful a place for me.”
“Thank you Lady. This would be a good place to die, a good place to be reborn. Let us birth you here in your garden.” Shiro-san murmured an order to her four ladies. They cast their mats on the ground and bowed low. “Will you rest awhile Lady whilst my slaves bring those things we require?”
Yes thank you.” Jennifer knelt upon one of the mats. Shiro-san bowed and lowered herself to a mat facing her. Her four slaves disappeared.
“It will be only a short while Lady. Let us enjoy the beauty of this day.”
Jennifer resided in a place of great peace. Her mind had seldom felt so clear, as if the cool waters of the spring were washing it clean and leaving a purity behind that no words of her own could describe. Another sacrifice was required of her yet it felt so appropriate, so apt that she could leave her pain in this place of sweet serenity. Shiro-san did not speak but watched her calmly, seeing the Goddess in the slim frame of the young woman before her. Jennifer raised her eyes to the sky. It was deep blue and unblemished by cloud. She felt the rays of the sun, now dropping down in the late afternoon, on her upturned face and shivered in their caress, glorying in her life. “The sky is so clear today Shiro-san. I’ve seen little of the sky these past days.” Shiro-san fanned herself with an elaborate Japanese fan and smiled.
“Will there be stars tonight Shiro-san?”
“Some yes Lady but many will be washed away. Tonight is the night of the full moon. The brilliance of the moon will drive all the lesser lights out of heaven.”
“Then your garden will be bathed in moonlight Shiro-san.”
“Indeed it will Lady. A fitting accompaniment to the light you shine on them. Will you walk in the moonlight tonight Lady?”
Goddess willing. I would see these gardens by the light of the moon.” The four ladies of Shiro-san’s garden came back and knelt before her. They were carrying burdens and these they lay on the grass before her as if seeking her approval. There was a small but stout box, some lengths of rope and a long coiled whip. Jennifer looked at these objects without fear, almost dispassionately, and nodded in acquiescence.
Shiro-san addressed her. “Lady will you choose your second from among my ladies? You would grant great honour by your choice.”
Jennifer looked at the four girls before her. The choice was agonising. There was the lovely Daniela, the statuesque dark Nadira, the exquisite Ming Ue and Doris, she of the laughing eyes. How could she choose among them? They were all looking at her, their faces shining in anticipation. The wisdom of such a choice seemed momentarily beyond her. From some deep hidden resource of her mind came an answer. She remembered something she’d read once about the meanings of names. She took a deep breath and said, “The moon will shine tonight therefore I choose Ming Ue for this is her night.”
Ming Ue let out her breath in wonderment and kowtowed to touch her forehead on the grass. Shiro-san shone in pleasure. “Ah lady! You are the daughter of Katherine! Let no one dispute it! Your choice is wise beyond measure. Ming Ue will be your second then.” She nodded to the other girls and they rose to assist Jennifer to her feet. Nadira and Doris propelled her gently by the arms whilst Daniela carried the wooden box to a pair of trees at the edge of the grove. The stood her beneath two large boughs of the trees and Nadira and Doris fastened ropes to the rings on her wrist cuffs before casting them over the long sturdy boughs above.
Daniela placed the box at her feet. “If you please Lady.” she requested. Jennifer understood and calmly stepped up onto the box. Nadira and Doris hauled on the ropes and pulled her arms tightly spread above her, until she was stood on the tips of her toes on the box, and secured them firmly to the trunks of the trees. Jennifer grimaced and took hold of the ropes securing her arms firmly. Daniela came to her and lifted her feet clear and removed the box beneath her. Jennifer was left suspended by her arms, her face set in tortured determination. Nadira and Doris took two more ropes and tied them to the rings on the cuffs about her ankles, pulling them wide apart to fasten then in their turn to the boles of the trees. Jennifer cried aloud in torment. She was spread eagled a foot above the ground, crucified between the trees, her limbs shrieking in agony. Ming Ue rose from her mat and stood before Jennifer to bow low. Nadira and Daniela helped her disrobe, unwrapping her obi and unravelling the myriad folds of her outer Kimono and its inner equivalent. At last she stood before Jennifer with just a short inner skirt on and naked to the waist. Doris bowed before her and presented the coiled whip. Ming Ue took the whip, kissed it reverently and bowed once more before the hanging Jennifer. Jennifer’s vision seemed exalted with some great clarity. There was a hush of expectancy in the quiet secluded glade as Doris, Nadira and Daniela took their places on their mats once again. Jennifer was breathing hard her attention riveted on the Chinese girl before her, the quiet bubbling of the spring unnaturally loud. Jennifer had never experienced a moment of such intense awareness before. The tiniest rustle was like a crack in the air about her. The colours of the trees and flowers were shocking in their vividness. Her breathing sounded like a steam train and she could already feel the perspiration trickling down her body. Ming Ue passed behind her and Jennifer focussed her attention on her observers sitting calmly on their mats and watching her with peaceful interest. Shiro-san was fanning herself gently and Ming Ue must have caught her eye for she nodded slightly.
The whip hissed in the air and wrapped itself around Jennifer’s body. She threw back her head and her mouth gaped but not a sound escaped. She felt the coils fall away from her flesh leaving a brand of fire around her limbs. Ming Ue adjusted her position and from the side let the whip sear across Jennifer’s shoulder blades and then across the swell of her buttocks. Even in her pain Jennifer could discern that her tormentor was expert. She walked calmly about the suspended girl reaching out to bring the lash across her body. Sometimes it would double around Jennifer’s stomach then, with an adjustment, she would curl it around her upper torso to let the thin end bite into her breasts. Jennifer held tight between the ropes on her four limbs could only jerk convulsively and her outstretched legs allowed Ming Ue to wrap the whip around each leg in turn, the agony fierce on the inner thighs. Jennifer’s mind was in some higher realm of consciousness. She knew she was screaming but her screams seemed to be merely the output of her body whilst her spirit soared high above the little grove of her body’s torture. She saw the tableau from some elevated plain, the four women kneeling serenely on their mats watching her, Shiro-san’s fan fluttering languidly before her face. It was a transcendent experience. She seemed to be able to look down on her own body writhing in its bondage with interest. She thought how beautiful she was in her pain, how lovely and vibrant were her screams, how aesthetic were the red stripes on her pale flesh. The agony was hideous yet she felt exalted. The gardens had just become a receptacle for her suffering. Her consciousness had enveloped them all. Shiro-san had been right. It was just a dream and that within a dream. Her pain was meaningless. Her spirit was liberated from her body by the torment of the lash. After a while she left the pain behind and reached out with her mind to walk in the dream of these gardens. How beautiful were the chestnut trees growing by the pagodas, how exquisite were the little bridges over the brooks, how perfect were the little ponds and lakes set among the willows. The trees seemed to hear her screams and lean toward her. Little a****ls would pause in their doings to listen to her screams carrying through the groves and glades and all would be aware that there was something special in the passion of her agony.
Jennifer never knew just when the whipping had stopped. She was lying curled up on the soft grass her body like some red throbbing organ wrapped about her. She was looking at her tangled hair on the grass and thinking how precious it appeared. There was a tiny white flower growing amongst her tresses and she moved them out of its way so that she could see it better and wonder at its ephemeral and fragile loveliness. It was as if she had never seen a flower before. She reached out to touch it with her fingers carefully as if afraid that she might damage it. It seemed so achingly and tragically beautiful. She wondered for a moment if she had died under the whip and that this was a new life and she just a babe lying on the grass.
Slowly she pulled her self to her elbows. Ming Ue was kneeling in front of her still naked to the waist. As Jennifer turned her eyes on her the Chinese girl bowed to touch her forehead to the ground not daring to sully the moment with un-chosen words. The other women were watching her carefully, honouring her with their patient silence, knowing that she must come back in her own time. Jennifer struggled painfully to her feet and her observers acknowledged her struggle with deep bows. From some reserve of inner strength Jennifer managed to bow in return but there was no equality in her bow for in this little glade she was queen. She had made it her own through her suffering. Shiro-san’s fan lay folded in her lap and she spoke softly. “You were beautiful My Lady. I thank you for the honour you have afforded us. Will you honour us further and name this glade?”
“I name it the Garden of Return.”
Shiro-san bowed low “So be it! This will be your garden forever. Whenever we want to think of you we will come here and tend your garden for you and it will be blessed among these realms.” Jennifer bowed again and started to walk from the glade. They let her progress for by doing so they granted her honour but once honour was satisfied and Jennifer stumbled at the edge of the glade Nadira and Doris caught her up that she might not fall and gently helped her back to the island in the lake.
_________________________________________________________________________


This is the final part of this mini-series which is extracted from my three volume work "Slaves of the Amethyst". I would like to thank those people who have stuck with this complex story and I hope that you have enjoyed it. It seemed a logical place to conclude the story at the end of Jennifer's induction and incarceration in the cellars of Mathom Hall. The story continues of course beyond here and if there are any readers who have become interested in it and would like to know more about it or read the entire sage once it is published please feel free to message me or leave a comment.

Thank you for your patience with the story.

Michaela





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Posted by Mikebasil 2 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Lesbian Sex  |  Views: 818  |  
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Slaves of the Amethyst (Part One)

(This and the following parts under the same name represent a block of chapters from my novel "The Slaves of the Amethyst" which I am posting here as a mini-series in the hope that Xhamster readers will enjoy them. Although there is a strong erotic theme throughout I feel obliged to warn readers that not all of the series is erotic in content for which I apologise. Also one of the chapters has been previously posted on here and I apologise for the repetition. There will be I think about fifteen chapters in this series representing about one tenth of the overall body of the novel. I hope you enjoy the series and I welcome any feedback you may wish to give.)


Chapter Fifty Six.

Friday morning, the morning that Jennifer would later consider the last of her freedom, dawned bright and sunny. Jennifer had set off early to walk to the Hall. There was hardly any breeze to stir the boughs of the trees along the country lanes and few people were on the road. Only the songbirds in the hedgerows and the rabbits in the meadows she cut across witnessed Jennifer’s walk into slavery. She sat for some time by a little stile restoring her composure. It seemed almost grotesque to surrender her freedom on such a lovely summer’s morn. There was still a spark of rebellion in her that urged her to turn aside at the stile and walk away. Walk away from Mathomdale, from Mathom Hall, its Mistress and into an unforeseeable future. But she didn’t. She had passed too many forks in the road by now to turn aside from her destiny. Yet she experienced a soleful melancholy as she continued her way, a last pang of longing for the carefree days of her c***dhood. It seemed an insult to this beautiful day to walk so soberly and sadly and not to rush across the fields in the delight of being alive. If only she had been born just a simple farming girl with no care this day other than to skip happily into the village to sell her eggs to the local people. But then there were lots of “if onlys” in this life Dreams of speculation were s**ttered like the discarded leaves of an autumnal tree on one’s journey through existence.
Jennifer sighed and pressed on. The thought of Julie gave her comfort. After being admonished the previous day Julie had been all that Jennifer could have required that evening at the Mermaid. She had been vivaciously funny and yet tender. She had realised finally the enormity of Jennifer’s impending slavery and perceived that it was, at least in part, a sacrifice for her. Julie’s heart had nearly broken with love every time she had caught a glimpse of Jennifer’s wistful suffering and she determinedly tried to raise her lover’s spirits with gaiety and understanding. On the way home they’d made love among the trees and it had been both sad and sweet, a fitting accompaniment to their forthcoming separation. They’d reiterated their vows to each other on the banks of the whispering river and shared tears for the denouement of their girlish innocence. They’d taken a kiss in the shadows of the village square and known that it was the last kiss of this lifetime. They would only kiss again in the new life to come beyond the chains of Mathom Hall.
As she walked along the country lane leading to the long drive up to Mathom Hall Jennifer had other things to ruminate upon. One was the conversation she’d had over the breakfast table with the Appletons that morning. There’d been a current of excitement in the Appleton household that morning due to Jennifer’s imminent “employment” up at Mathom Hall. Jennifer had sought Mrs Appleton’s approval of the pretty light lilac dress she was wearing and had found that good lady in such a whirlwind of excitement and pride that it was difficult to get a coherent word out of her. Both the Appletons were torn between immense pride in the position being offered to Jennifer and a deep sense of regret in losing her to Mathom Hall. Jennifer had sought to reassure them that she would still be a frequent visitor and in any case it would be some weeks before she took up permanent residence at the Hall.
“Aye well Jenny.” Mrs Appleton had told her whilst dabbing her eyes “Never forget love that there’ll allus be a place ‘ere fer yer if’n things don’t work out. Me an’ Albert’ll keep yer room fer yer. ‘Ave no doubt about that.”
“That’s very considerate of you Mrs Appleton.”
“Nonsense Jenny love. After all your mam’s done fer us it’s least we could do. Any road its bin a pleasure ‘avin’ yer this summer asn’t it Albert?”
“Oh aye! Me an t’ missus ‘ere think on you as t’ daughter we never ‘ad Jenny. Yer always welcome under this roof lass.”
“You’ve been so kind, both of you. I feel guilty that I’ve never been able to pay my keep.”
“Gerron with yer!” exploded Mrs Appleton “Oo said owt about yer payin’ yer keep? You owe us nowt Jenny! After all this is yer mam’s ‘ouse when alls said an’ done.”
“I’m sorry I don’t follow you. How do you mean my mother’s house?”
“Eee Jenny didn’t yer know? This ouse, well it belongs ter yer mam. Me an’ Albert rent it from ‘er. We ‘ave a long term lease on it.”
“No I didn’t know. I’m astonished. How much do you rent it for if it’s not an impertinent question?”
“An ‘undred quid Jenny.”
“A hundred pounds a week. That seems quite reasonable.”
“Nay Jenny a hundred pounds a year!”
“A year!”
“That’s right love. We knew yer mam when we was attendin’ yer dad’s church an’ when we got inter difficulties she offered to ‘elp us out. Well we’d always wanted to move to t’ countryside an’ she said she ‘ad a place fer us ‘ere in Mathomdale. It were like a dream come true fer us an’ she wouldn’t tek a penny more. We’ve bin ‘ere nearly ten years now an’ we owe it all to your mam. She’s an angel that’s what she is!”
“Aye Jenny” Mr Appleton had interrupted “Me an’ t’ missus love it ‘ere an’ we could never ‘ave done it wi’out your mam. So don’t you go thinkin’ that yer under any debt to us love. Yer can call this place ‘ome as long as we both live. Ain’t that right missus?”
“It is Albert. We always wanted c***dren of us own Jenny but it were never ter be. Well you’re f****y as far as we’re concerned an’ we both love yer as much as if yer were us own flesh an’ bl**d. We understand as ‘ow yer mum an’ dad are splittin’ up Jenny an’ this might be an ‘ard time fer yer but never worry cos there’ll always be an ‘ome fer yer ‘ere even if it don’t work out fer yer at Mathom ‘All.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much.” Jennifer had been close to tears.
“Well Jenny.” Mr Appleton had asked “D’ yer want a lift up to t’ All.”
“No thank you Mr Appleton. I’d like to walk if that’s all right. I’ve plenty of time and it’s a lovely morning.”
“Well take care Jenny an’ we’ll see yer next week “
“Yes and thank you once more.”
They were an enigma Jennifer thought as she walked. They were so involved in the life of Mathomdale it was difficult to remember that they were relative newcomers to the valley. Perhaps that explained some of the curious features about them. They had never known her mother when she had resided in Mathomdale and thus remained strangely unaware of her true status within the community. But why had her mother gone to such lengths to establish the Appletons in Mathomdale? It was almost as if she had placed her own agents into cover in the valley, set up a safe house deep within the territory of Mathom Hall for some purpose of her own. It was a mystery.
Jennifer turned into the long driveway up to Mathom Hall. As the great building loomed ever larger Jennifer remembered the fear it had once excited in her. She still felt a thrill of nervousness but now this enormous artefact had come to be such an important part of her life that it was imbibed with the amelioration of familiarity. Nevertheless there was still something of a measured tread of doom in her footsteps towards the soaring ramparts of the rambling old building and its innumerable annexes spreading like weeds about its feet. Jennifer swallowed the lump in her throat and whispered aloud “c***de Roland to the Dark Tower came.” It was as an apt a line as she could find.
Skirting the edge of the Great Lake Jennifer walked up the incline that lead to the main Hall and tried to find her way around to the rear and the little private entrance that had been shown her. There were a few moments of panic when she felt herself hopelessly lost but she had the good fortune to spy a young man working on one of the flowerbeds.
“Excuse me” she asked politely “I wonder if you could help me. There’s a small side entrance to the Hall that I’m looking for but I can’t remember just how to find it.” Jennifer felt mortified. It seemed a pathetic inquiry. There were probably dozens of side entrances. She was willing to bet that c***de Roland never had to ask directions from the gardeners. Nevertheless the young man was of immediate assistance as he rose from his work and bowed politely.
“Aye Milady. Yer’ll be wantin’ the young ladies entrance. Ah’ll show yer t’ way if’n yer’d care to follow me ma-am.” Jennifer was bemused as she followed the young man. He’d immediately recognised her status and was almost feudally reverential to her. “This is it ‘ere Milady if’n yer please.”
“Why thank you.”
“My pleasure ma-am and thank you fer gracin’ me garden.” He bowed once more and left Jennifer at the door with its statue of the Goddess. Jennifer remembered something that Rebecca had told her and feeling a little self-conscious she leaned over and kissed the little statue. Almost immediately the door opened and Abigail was rushing out to kiss her.
“Jenny! Darling! I was just dashing down to let you in. I saw you from the balcony up there and you looked a bit lost but you seemed to have found the way.”
“I asked one of the gardeners. He seemed to know what I was looking for.”
“I should hope so too! Here look these are yours.” Abigail held out a bunch of keys. “The big brass key opens this door. The others are for your own chambers.” Jennifer took the keys feeling very strange. She now possessed her own keys to Mathom Hall! How strange that seemed.
“Th… thank you.”
“Well drop them in your bag honey and let’s go in. We’ve got to er… get you ready. The Lady wants to see you at eleven sharp.”
“Get me ready?”
“Keep your head up Jenny. You might be in for a tough day. In fact you might be in for a tough week. Don’t worry though we’ll be supporting you.”
“I’m scared.”
“Don’t be Jenny. There’ll be some pretty torrid moments for you this week but there are going to be some nice surprises too. Don’t ask me what! My lips are sealed under orders. Come on! The twins are in one of the downstairs parlours waiting for us.”
In the day parlour to which Abigail led Jennifer Helen and Heather were seated looking curiously sombre for a change. They both rose to greet her with tender kisses but Jennifer was aware of the underlying tension in the air. “Sit down for a few minutes Jenny.” Heather told her “You’re early and you don’t have to present yourself to the Lady for well over an hour.”
“Thank you. Where’s Rebecca?”
“She’s not able to be here Jenny but she sends her love and kisses. She wanted to welcome you to the Hall but she’s under orders from the Lady. Don’t worry you’ll see her later.”
Abigail spoke up “What do you have in the bag Jenny?”
“Just my personal things, my keys and a book that Lady Mathom gave me. The Lady said that I wouldn’t need anything else.”
“That’s right Jenny. We spent yesterday evening fitting out your chambers. I think you’ll like what you find there. Ok! I’ll look after your bag for you for the moment. We’ve got to pretty you up now so get your kit off sweetheart.”
“Sorry?”
“I said undress Jenny. Completely.”
“But why?”
“Lady’s orders Jenny!” Helen told her “Now be a good girl and get your clothes off!” Feeling timid Jennifer complied. When she was naked she was made to sit on a cushioned stool whilst the three girls fussed over her. Abigail brushed out her hair and arranged it expertly whilst the twins applied cosmetics to her face and body, enhancing her natural beauty with deft touches. Helen decorated her nipples with rouge whilst Heather painted her toenails and fingernails. Finally the three girls were satisfied with her appearance.
“You look gorgeous Jenny.” was Abigail’s verdict.
“We’ve got something for you to wear Jenny. “said Helen. She held up two items of clothing. Jennifer’s eyes widened in horror. The garments that Helen was holding barely merited the title of clothing. Ostensibly they were a camisole and a pair of matching French knickers in pale tangerine but for all their ability to obstruct vision the wearer might just as well not have bothered with them. Jennifer had never seen such blatantly transparent underwear. As Helen held them aloft Jennifer could easily see right through them.
“You can’t mean that I have to wear those.” she protested.
“Yes Jenny. This is how the Lady wants you dressed.” Helen informed her. “Come along they’re sexy and very expensive.”
“I can’t think why they’re so expensive. There’s nothing to them! I might as well be naked!”
“Jenny.” Abigail asked seriously “You do know why you are going to see the Lady don’t you?”
“Well for a number of reasons I suppose but…”
“Anything specific that she might have mentioned?”
“Well she did say a few things.”
“Can you think of anything that might render what you are wearing fairly irrelevant?”
“Well she did say that she was going to cane me.”
“Exactly Jenny honey. So honestly I wouldn’t worry about your ensemble. What you are wearing is going to be the least of your worries Jenny! You’ll be very lucky if you’re allowed to retain even this modicum of dress my sweet. Now stop flustering and put them on.” In enormous embarrassment Jennifer obeyed. In the gossamer wisps of underwear she felt even more naked than when completely nude. The transparent material hid nothing of her. Every detail of her young body was on display. The garments more accentuated the high firm breasts, rounded buttocks and her shaven sex than concealed them. The three girls regarded Jennifer with uninhibited admiration.
“You look just perfect Jenny!” Abigail noted “I think the Lady is going to thoroughly enjoy taking the cane to that gorgeous little bottom of yours!”
“Well I hope somebody derives some amusement from it!” Jennifer pouted sulkily.
“Ok Jenny it’s nearly time so we best send you on your way.” Helen told her. “Now you have to go out of here, cross the big hallway and go up the main staircase there. Go up two flights and on the second floor turn right down the long gallery.”
Jennifer listened to these instructions in mounting horror. “You can’t possibly mean that I have to walk through the Hall on my own dressed like this?”
“Those are essentially the facts yes Jenny.”
“But… but there might be somebody about!”
“At this time of day almost certainly Jenny. There’s bound to be some cleaning staff or housemaids about the place definitely.”
“But for heaven’s sake what will they think?”
“They’ll think there’s that gorgeous new slave, with next to no clothes on, on her way for a good caning. That’s what they’ll think. Now shut up and let me finish my instructions. You walk to the end of the gallery and the door you want is straight ahead. You can’t miss it. It’s the biggest door in the gallery, a flipping great thing in black oak. Knock on the door and wait until the Lady bids you enter before going in. After that the Lady will instruct you as to how to present yourself for the cane.”
“I … I can’t do it! It’s impossible!”
Heather took Jennifer’s hands in her own and looked the frightened girl full in the face. “Jenny! Honey! The Lady is testing you. There’ll be far worse than this for you put up with believe me. You just have to be brave. Walk up there with your head held high. It won’t be as bad as you think.” Jennifer was nearly in tears. “Don’t cry sweetheart or you’ll ruin the make up we put on you. Just walk straight up, proud and unafraid. Remember you’re a lady of Mathom Hall now. You can do anything.”
“What if one of the housemaids sees me?” Jennifer whispered.
“She’ll wish fervently that she was in your place Jennifer. There’s not a one of them that wouldn’t swap places with a high slave of Mathom Hall in an instance! Only the elite in this household dare walk the galleries of the Hall naked and proud. So chin up Jenny. Remember who you are!”
“I… I’ll try!”
“Good girl. Now be on your way.”
“One moment Jenny” Abigail interrupted her “You’re forgetting this!” Abigail was holding out Jennifer’s cane with the orange ribbon still tied to the loop on the handle. In desperation Jennifer realised why Lady Mathom had ordered this particular shade for her fragments of clothing. They matched the hue of her ribbon perfectly. The cane was a grotesque accessory to her outfit. Moreover there could now be no pretence that she was just walking the corridors unclad. Carrying the cane would make it blatantly obvious that she was on her way to be punished. She might as well have carried a sign. Blinking furiously to prevent her tears she took the cane wishing that she had never come to this wretched house.
“Ok Jenny.” said Abigail “Now give us all a quick kiss and get going.”
Jennifer obeyed once more but couldn’t help saying “God I’m terrified!”
Abigail stroked her hair “When you face your fears they’re never as bad as you think Jenny. Now get along with you. The Lady tends to add extra strokes for unpunctuality so you don’t want to be late.”
Abigail was wrong Jennifer reflected as she walked through the Hall. It was every bit as bad as she had feared it would be. She had no idea how many strokes Lady Mathom was going to award her but she would gladly have accepted double if by doing so she could have been excused that dreadful walk through the Hall. Her first crisis came in the hallway where one of the Hall’s footmen was dawdling. He was suitably polite, bowing and addressing her as “Milady” but it was torture to cross the hallway under his gaze. She mounted the wide banistered stairway feeling his eyes on the swell of her buttocks beneath their gauzy covering as she climbed the stairs, her face crimson in embarrassment.
At the second landing she turned into the gallery praying that it would be empty. But there was to be no remission for Jennifer this day. Nearly at the far end, close by the door that was her destination, was a young housemaid polishing the woodwork of the oak panels. Jennifer nearly turned and fled but the young girl sighted her and rose to her feet to curtsy and there was no place to hide. Jennifer never knew how she summoned the courage to walk the interminable length of that corridor. It was all her fears compounded into one dreadfully extended passage of time. Almost she was back crossing the village square in her white dress and feeling the eyes upon her. She was sure that she detected the glimmerings of a smirk in the young girl’s placid features. There just seemed no way to walk that gallery so scantily dressed, her bare feet padding on the polished floors and carrying a cane with any remaining vestige of dignity. As she passed the housemaid the young girl lowered her eyes and deepened her curtsy and such reverence felt bizarre to Jennifer.
The great door at the end of the gallery was a new purgatory. It seemed so thick that Jennifer wondered if her feeble knock could even register to anybody behind it. For long seconds she waited there, dreading that she might be left there for hours under the scrutiny of the young housemaid. It was almost a glad relief when an imperious voice within bade her enter. Pushing open the heavy door Jennifer entered the room beyond. Lady Mathom was sitting in a large wicker chair close by the huge bay windows that dominated the room, her purple eyes unfathomable as she watched Jennifer close the door behind her. Her Ladyship was dressed in a smart suit of dark grey this day with a well fitting jacket and short skirt over black silk stockings. The neckline of her jacket fell in a deep vee revealing her long elegant throat decorated with a simple string of pearls. Her first words were telling “Well done Jennifer. Now come over here by the window and let me see you properly.”
Jennifer managed a curtsy but it felt downright foolish dressed as she was and padded her way across the big room. It was sparsely furnished with a desk and chair, an occasional table, a long low sofa and, next to Lady Mathom, a small table upon which rested a coffee pot, china cup and saucer, a silver creamer and sugar bowl. There was one other item of furniture in the room and Jennifer quailed when she saw it for its purpose was obvious. It was a low stool a little below waist height with stout spreading wooden legs and a smooth leather top almost like a low vaulting horse. Jennifer paused in front of Lady Mathom caught in the sunlight shining through the window. It really was huge reaching nearly to the ground. Jennifer could see a man working on the topiary in the gardens below. If he were to raise his head he would surely be able to see her standing there in the window. Perhaps he would be able to watch every last stroke of her caning. Perhaps even now that young housemaid in the gallery outside had her ear pressed to the door waiting for Jennifer’s ordeal to begin. There was a large keyhole in that door. In her fevered imagination Jennifer saw the young girl on her knees squinting through the keyhole watching as Jennifer presented herself for the cane.
“Do you know why you are here Jennifer?”
“Y.. yes My Lady.”
“Then why?”
“But you know why My Lady!”
“Yes Jennifer but I want to hear you say it.”
“I.. I .. I’m here to be caned My Lady.”
“Good Jennifer. Hand me the cane now.” Jennifer obeyed her trembling hands betraying her. In a single lithe movement Lady Mathom unfolded herself from her chair and rose, her high heels rapping sharply on the parquet floor. Jennifer stood straight, almost in a military position of attention, as Her Ladyship stalked around her, examining her minutely, with her heels beating a tattoo on the hard floor. She circled Jennifer completely and came back to face her trembling protégé flexing the cane in her hands. Apparently her examination had satisfied her for she said “Very pleasant Jennifer. Do stop trembling however. I’m only going to cane you. Not eat you!”
“Y.. yes Ma-am.”
“I’ve told you before Jennifer. Your timidity is your failing. We have to find your courage Jennifer. Underneath this little quivering bunny rabbit is a lioness waiting to be released Jennifer. We shall have to let her out. Ladies of the Line don’t faint with terror just because they are asked to walk undressed through the corridors of their domain Jennifer. Nor do they tremble in terror before their Mistress merely because they are obliged to take a little caning. Ladies of the Line carry their pride and power before them and their harmony and inner peace within. They suffer gladly, for even their pain is a celebration of their life f***e. No pain can touch the inner tranquillity of a Lady of the Line. Only failure to live up to the standards of the Goddess can do that Jennifer. You know that no harm can befall you here. You know that your suffering is just a stepping stone, a doorway into a harmony beyond. Did any terrible fate fall upon you simply because you walked nearly naked through the house Jennifer?”
“N… no My Lady.”
“Do you face any dreadful consequences other than a temporary discomfort at my hands? Will you die or be crippled?”
“No Ma-am.”
“Will you be scarred for life or your bones broken?”
“No Ma-am.”
“Then why are you so afraid Jennifer?”
“I … I don’t know My Lady. I’m often frightened.”
“I know Jennifer. So let us begin some immediate work on your fears shall we? Would you step over to the punishment stool here?” Her head spinning Jennifer walked to the leather-clad stool. “Closer Jennifer.” Jennifer came to a halt with the leather top pressing against her hips. “Now present yourself over the stool and grip the legs on the other side Jennifer.” In a haze Jennifer obeyed bending well over the stool the cool leather against her stomach. “Part your legs Jennifer. A little wider please.” When Jennifer was suitably presented to Lady Mathom’s satisfaction her Ladyship unbuttoned her jacket and laid it neatly on the desk. To Jennifer’s surprise she wore no blouse beneath it, just a lacy dark maroon bra. She picked up the cane once more and positioned herself behind Jennifer with her legs slightly apart. She laid the length of rattan across the fleshy part of Jennifer’s buttocks and addressed her “I’m going to give you six strokes Jennifer. After that I’m going to ask you a question. Are you ready?” Dumbly Jennifer nodded and gripped the stool’s legs tighter. She could still see the gardener through the windows. Would he hear the report of the first stroke? Would he look up at the sound and behold her there in her humiliation? She felt the cane lifted away from her cheeks and fixed her eyes on the man still clipping away at the cypress bushes. The moment seemed to last forever.
Then it ended with a sharp crack and a line of searing pain. Jennifer hissed through her gritted teeth. She clenched her buttocks together seeking relief from the sudden burning in her rear. Lady Mathom had a strong hand and her first stroke had not been gentle. She waited until Jennifer had stopped wriggling and composed herself once more before lashing the proffered target a second time. A loud gasp escaped Jennifer’s lips and her hair fell forward over her face. The caning was stronger than that which she had endured in the hunter’s lodge and she was thankful that she had only six strokes to endure. She tossed her hair aside. To her relief the gardener in the grounds below seemed unaware of her ordeal as yet and carried on working calmly. The third stroke was agonising landing a little below the first two and Jennifer snorted heavily with her teeth still clamped together to prevent her cries carrying to the garden below. That resolution was sorely tested on the fourth and fifth strokes but only a strangled cry cut the stillness of the big room, followed by her feeble whimpering. Even before it landed she knew the sixth stroke would be the greatest test so far. From the corner of her eye she saw Lady Mathom raise the cane high above her shoulder and fix her eyes determinedly on the centre of the quivering buttocks. Jennifer clamped her eyes shut and waited. It came down with a dreadful hissing sound and bit savagely into Jennifer’s bottom. There was no holding her cry of pain this time and Jennifer wailed loudly jerking against the top of the punishment stool. Tears sprang into her eyes and a bubbling sob emerged from her lips.
“Very well Jennifer you may stand now.” Awkwardly Jennifer pushed herself up from the stool her legs trembling. Lady Mathom was watching her carefully. “That was just a little taste of the cane Jennifer, a mere preparatory introduction. Was it so bad?”
“Please My Lady it hurt!”
“So it should Jennifer. But was it intolerable? Unbearable?”
“I… I was able to bear it My Lady.”
“Good for now you have a choice Jennifer. If you have had enough you are free to leave. You may take this cane and make your way back to the parlour where you found it. The clothes that you arrived in will still be there. You will kindly leave the cane and the garments you are wearing on the table in there. After that you may leave the Hall.” Jennifer was staring at Lady Mathom in astonishment. For a moment she felt enormous relief at her reprieve but then the full implications of Lady Mathom’s words began to sink in.
“But I .. I mean I thought that I was to stay the week here.”
“And so you may Jennifer. However if you feel unable to continue then I shall understand and you are free to go. The cane will be left in the parlour should you at any time in the future feel you are able to face it with greater equanimity.” Jennifer suddenly saw that there was something more terrible than the cane in Lady Mathom’s slim hand. She could leave! But that meant she would have once more to face walking down through the Hall in her flimsy lingerie carrying the cane. The six stripes that Lady Mathom had placed on her burning rear would be plainly visible through the transparent material and now they would be far more humiliating. Now they would be brands of shame, the stripes of her cowardice. She would have to return to the parlour and tell the girls that she was branded a coward and lacked the fortitude to become their s****r. She would have to tell Helen! Helen who had taken thirty strokes, five times the number Jennifer had just received, in Jennifer’s honour, quite calmly and without hesitation. How contemptuous she would be that Jennifer had cut and fled after a piddling six strokes! What an insult it would be to that girl’s ordeal if Jennifer now decided that she would rather forego her own ordeal than seal herself in s****rhood with Helen. And then there would be another betrayal too. Rebecca had suffered a terrible beating in order to bring Jennifer to Mathom Hall and with this very cane, as had Helen, too. Both of those girls had taken the rasp of that instrument contentedly in the knowledge that it brought Jennifer closer to their home. She would never be able to face them again.
Nor Julie for that matter. How could she now tell Julie that she had tried to become a true Lady of the Valley but had been found wanting? “So sorry Julie but I will have to leave Mathomdale after all.” For she would have to leave wouldn’t she? Even the offer of a home at the Appletons held no refuge now. She would never again dare to set foot in the village. She, the girl that had been offered one of the highest honours the culture of the valley had to offer, would never escape the taint of cowardice upon her. So she would live in her little student apartment at university after all. But now it would not represent freedom to her. Now it would be a prison cell of loneliness and heartbreak to which she was condemned for treason, the betrayal of love. And lastly of course she would have to tell the beautiful woman in front of her, waiting patiently, that she could not live up to her expectations of her, nor those of her mother, that she was unworthy to be a slave of Mathom Hall, and by so doing cast herself out into the darkness of supposed liberty.
In a whisper Jennifer asked “And my alternative choice My Lady?” although she already knew the answer.
“The alternative Jennifer is that you resume your position over the stool and your caning will continue, will continue until I decide to terminate it.”
Jennifer looked at the starkness of the decision before her. Now she understood what Heather had meant when she’d said that the Lady was testing her. Now she understood the demands imposed upon a high slave of Mathom Hall. She swallowed the saliva in her throat and tried to face Lady Mathom with a show of bravery.
“The choice is yours Jennifer.” Lady Mathom watched her compassionately, fully aware of the conflicts seething within her, but knowing that the testing had to be done and that this young c***d of the Goddess must be forged in the crucible of such anguish.
“I… I do not want to leave My Lady!”
“Then what is the price of your staying Jennifer?”
“That I must be caned some more My Lady.”
“Is this your choice?”
“Y.. yes Ma-am.”
“Then you must ask Jennifer. You must request your punishment.”
Jennifer stood transfixed. The words seemed to jar in her throat. There was a long silence during which Jennifer could clearly hear the clipping of the gardener’s shears in the gardens below the window. Finally she lowered her head and, in a hoarse whisper, said “Please continue with my caning My Lady.” So Lady Mathom had been right after all when she had told her that one day she would ask for her own chastisement. How succinctly she had been taught that a temporary pain was far more tolerable than a lifetime of suffering. That the stripes on the flesh inflicted by a beloved Mistress were far preferable to the whip scars you could impose upon your soul though your own cowardice and indecision. That the greatest thing to fear was fear itself.
“Very well Jennifer. Please remove your garments so that I can cane you properly and resume your position.” Jennifer felt almost faint as she slipped the tiny fragments of her clothing from herself. There was an awkward moment as she stood naked with the fragile pieces of apparel in her hands not knowing what to do with them. “Place them on the desk Jennifer. Neatly.” Jennifer folded the flimsy items carefully, struck by the incongruity of the act of attending to the care of her underclothing before facing a beating. “Very good Jennifer. Now if you’ll please return to your former position we can continue.” Once more Jennifer bent far over the stool with the leather now pressing her naked stomach and parted her legs in the manner in which she had been previously instructed. Lady Mathom wiped all traces of relief and triumph from her face and poised the cane high above the trembling buttocks, glorying that Jennifer had learned this first lesson. Then she recommenced the flogging.
It was worse now. Jennifer would have been unable to believe that the paper thin film of underwear that had covered her bottom could possibly have afforded her any protection against the cane’s sting were it not for the indisputable evidence of the searing pain of the instrument as it lashed her naked flesh. Her cries turned from yelping gasps quickly into anguished shrieks as the remorseless beating progressed. At one particularly shrill squeal she saw the gardener’s attention distracted by it. He turned his head and glanced up momentarily but he seemed only mildly interested and soon continued with his work. Perhaps he had witnessed such scenes too many times. In any case Jennifer no longer cared. All she cared about now was that the merciless lashes following one upon the other on her bottom should cease. She was sobbing uncontrollably, her eyes fuzzy with tears as she gripped the legs of the stool desperately. In only one regard did she retain some semblance of self-control. She might scream aloud at each slicing cut but a stubborn vein of rebellious resilience in her refused to allow her to plead for an end to her ordeal. Through her tears she glanced back at Lady Mathom wielding the cane above her prostrate body. A disconnected part of her mind found the sight both terrible and beautiful as Her Ladyship, naked to the waist bar her lacy bra, arced her arm back to flog her, with the muscles rippling in the slender arms and a look of concentration and satisfaction on her lovely face. The detached part of Jennifer’s mind was hypnotised by the vision even as her body writhed and screamed under the onslaught of the rod. Lady Mathom was taking her time; measuring the strokes carefully and permitting pauses between them for Jennifer to settle but at the end she delivered a rapid salvo of several strokes in close succession to elicit a crescendo of howling screams from Jennifer. The finale left Jennifer limp over the stool crying profusely with gasping sobs, her bottom tormented beyond further endurance. Jennifer lay there not knowing if the beating was finished or not, only aware that should it begin once more she would collapse from the stool and finally beg for mercy.
Lady Mathom had judged Jennifer’s levels of tolerance finely however. She came close to Jennifer and placed a hand upon the heaving torso of the young girl, feeling the slickness of the skin under its sheen of perspiration. Gently she stroked Jennifer’s back as the sobs gradually subsided and Jennifer started to realise through her fog of pain that her beating was at an end. When Lady Mathom finally spoke her voice was kind and reassuring “You did very well Jennifer. Do you think you can stand now?” With a mighty effort Jennifer tried to raise herself but her legs didn’t seem to be working too well. She managed to raise herself to her feet but she swayed dangerously. Lady Mathom didn’t allow her to fall but folded her in her arms and let her lean against her whilst she soothed her, caressing her tangled hair and murmuring soft words in her ear. Jennifer became aware of the soft skin in contact with her own and she took comfort from its velvet warmth against her, letting her head droop forward and nestle in the warm sanctuary between her Mistress’s breasts. Slowly her breathing returned to something approaching normal and the fire in her bottom receded into a dull throbbing. In the part of her mind still able to think rationally she knew she was being rewarded with Her Ladyship’s caresses for enduring her beating and she felt u*********sly grateful for it.
“Come Jennifer let us rest for a while.” Lady Mathom supported her across the room to the sofa. There she placed a large cushion on the floor and eased Jennifer to her knees on it before seating herself on the sofa and allowing Jennifer to rest her head in her lap. For a long while she didn’t speak but just permitted Jennifer to rest there feeling the dampness of Jennifer’s tears through the sheer silk of her stockings on her thighs. Jennifer found a strange joy in that period of intimate silence at her Mistress’s knees. She turned her head into the caresses of Lady Mathom’s hand in her hair in the way a purring cat will whilst being stroked. She felt a great sharpening of her senses and rubbed her cheek on the stocking clad thigh. She could scent her Mistress’s womanhood so close to her face and breathed it eagerly. Unable to stop herself she turned her face and, astounded at her daring, she kissed her Lady’s thigh leaving a damp ring on her stockings with her lips. In response Lady Mathom lifted Jennifer’s chin with her fingertips and raised her face so that she could bend down and kiss the forehead.
“Well Jennifer how are you doing?”
“Well My Lady.”
“Are you still sore?”
“Somewhat My Lady.”
“Your first beating under this roof Jennifer! It won’t be your last you know.”
“Thank you Ma-am. May I stay now?”
“Of course you may Jennifer. I never had any doubt that you would. But this was only your first test this week Jennifer. There will be others to come. Do you think that you can be brave enough to face them?”
“I will try My Lady.”
“Good girl. More I cannot ask. Stay here for a moment. I have a little gift for you.” Lady Mathom rose and walked over to the desk taking a box from one of the drawers. When she returned she sat back on the sofa and beckoned Jennifer close. “The contents of this box are very precious Jennifer. They are an heirloom if you like. They belonged to your mother. She has asked that they be passed on to you and that you wear them with pride and think of her.” Lady Mathom opened the box to reveal the contents. Jennifer gasped. Inside was a set of five black leather manacles beautifully inlaid with silver and emeralds. Four of the set were clearly intended for the wrists and ankles with silver buckles, rings and clips. The last was a leather collar bearing a large ring and a silver design on it bearing a large amethyst surrounded by emeralds. Jennifer gazed in astonishment at the items nestling on a cushion of purple silk within the box.
“They are beautiful My Lady!”
“Yes Jennifer and very precious. If you look carefully you will see the Arms of the House of Mathom etched on the silver. I placed these on your mother long ago Jennifer. They were my gift to her and she wore them with honour. Now she has requested that they pass on to you. Will you be worthy of them?”
Jennifer stared hypnotised picturing her mother knelt naked at Her Lady’s knee just as she did now whilst the adornments of her slavery were attached to her limbs and about her neck. “I will try My Lady. I promise that I will try.”
“There are some stern tests ahead of you Jennifer. There may be moments when you will bitterly rue the day that you dared to become a slave of the House of Mathom. There will be bitter tears and times you will hate me for my cruelty. In those moments let these be a comfort to you. Let them remind you that your mother passed through the same torments as yourself and know that these are her gift of love to you. Remember also that she knows that you too will suffer but will emerge stronger and more joyous than ever.”
“Oh My Lady!”
“Do you hate me Jennifer?”
“No My Lady. How could I?”
“I have beaten you Jennifer. I will beat you again. I will have you chained in darkness and whipped until your skin bleeds. I can be a harsh mistress Jennifer. Will you hate me then?”
Jennifer looked up into the radiance of Her Lady’s face, softened now with compassion and sweet memories. The pain in her buttocks seemed to have vanished to be replaced with by a far more profound ache in her breast. It was an ache of desperate love and the gripping fear that she would prove unworthy of such a Mistress and cast away from the sweetness of her presence forever.
“No My Lady.” she whispered. “I will not hate you. I cannot! I will love you! I will love you always. If I am unable to bear the torments that you impose upon me then I will hate only myself that I proved unworthy to be your slave.”
“I expected no lesser answer from you Jennifer. Your mother gave you my name Jennifer. At least she gave you the name by which she knew me. I have had many names my c***d but Jennifer is one which will always be precious to me. Precious because you, my beloved daughter, bear it also. Will you accept these manacles then?”
“In joy My Lady! I will only pray that I find the strength to do them honour.”
“You will do my daughter. By every word you say you make that plain. Hold out your wrists.” Jennifer laid her slender hands in Her lady’s lap and held her breath as her Mistress buckled the cuffs to her wrists. “Now your ankles Jennifer.” Jennifer lay back on the floor and placed her feet on Lady Mathom’s knee sighing in pleasure as she felt the leather tighten about her ankles. “Now kneel up Jennifer.” Jennifer knelt admiring the bejewelled cuffs adorning her limbs. “Lift your hair out of the way Jennifer.” As Jennifer complied Lady Mathom leaned forward to pass the collar about her neck, leaving it loose so it would not choke her. “Later we will make it official Jennifer, in writing and before witnesses but let me say now, that, by these tokens, I accept you as my slave, to love cherish and command you whilst ever I draw breath. I thank you for the gift of your slavery.”
“Oh My Lady….” Jennifer could find no other words to say but bowed low and placed her head in Her Lady’s lap, tears once more in her eyes.
“Come now Jenny. There are still hard tests for you to face but there must be interludes of joy as well. I have one for you now!” With that Lady Mathom pulled briefly at a little bell rope by the sofa. There was a short pause and then came a knock at the door. “You may enter!” Lady Mathom called and there was Rebecca, dressed in white and pale green stood in the doorway, her eyes alight with happiness at the sight of Jennifer collared and cuffed at Her Mistress’s knee. She curtsied to Lady Mathom and it seemed a dance of sheer delight.
“Well Rebecca you have a new s****r! Aren’t you going to kiss her?” All of Rebecca’s training in the arts of gracious controlled movement failed her in that moment and she flew across the room like an excited c***d to snatch Jennifer to her bosom and the two girls laughed and cried in the joy of their embrace.
“Oh Jenny! Jenny!” Rebecca blubbered but found nothing more sensible to articulate. Even as she grasped her close Abigail, Helen and Heather entered and after the barest of formalities they were swarming all over Jennifer hugging her and kissing her until she felt quite breathless. Lady Mathom smiled at the milling huddle of girls. Such moments as these made up for all the heartaches.
“When you’ve quite finished girls I would like a last word with Jennifer. Then you can take her away and see that she gets some lunch. Come here Jenny.” Jennifer knelt before her and she took her hands and gazed seriously at her. “You must eat now Jennifer. This afternoon’s test will be sterner. You’ve been brave so far. Be brave a little longer. I promise you that there will be a sweet light at the end of this day for you. You are forbidden to wear anything other than what you are now wearing. Don’t be afraid! You possess no more beautiful a gown in your wardrobe than the flesh which adorns your body. Wear it with pride! And these too!” Lady Mathom reached out to finger Jennifer’s collar “One day Jennifer you will pass these on to another. Make sure she is worthy of them. And remember! Be brave! Abigail there is a chain in the upper left hand drawer of the desk will you fetch it here please.” Abigail returned with a silver chain with a black leather loop on one end and a clip on the other. Lady Mathom clipped Jennifer’s wrist cuffs together in front of her and then took the chain from Abigail and attached it to the ring in her collar. She looked over the other four girls critically and came to a decision, her eyes fastening on Abigail who was glorious this day in a shimmering silvery blue dress. “You look very fetching today Abigail. Very well you may have the honour of leading your new s****r to lunch.” She passed the end of the chain to Abigail.
“Thank you My Lady!” Abigail was delighted.
“Good. Now Jennifer have you any last questions.”
“Yes My Lady. When will I see you next?”
“Not for the rest of this week Jennifer. Don’t look so downcast! There will be plenty to keep you occupied. You will be brought back to me at the end of this week. You will be a new person by then Jennifer. I promise you. I look forward to seeing you.”
“Thank you My Lady. I will try to justify the honour you have bestowed upon me. I declare you to be My Mistress. I will love, cherish and obey you whilst I still have breath to do so.”
Lady Mathom laughed and kissed Jennifer fondly. “Your new s****r is a treasure girls! Look after her well! Feed her properly at lunch and then you may choose between you which of you will have the honour of delivering her… to Sebastian in the cellars.”
__________________________________________________________________________
... Continue»
Posted by Mikebasil 2 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Lesbian Sex  |  Views: 936  |  
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Slaves of the Amethyst (Part Eight)

See Part One for the preamble to this series.


Chapter Sixty Three.

Rebecca and Alice were sitting on a huge back terrace of the Hall eating a light lunch as Robin and Daniel returned. Their return was somewhat flamboyant. They came around a corner of some Lawson Cypresses, arm in arm, singing an off key version of “On Ilkley Moor Baht’at” at the top of their voices. Rebecca nudged Alice and noted acidly “Behold our intrepid hunting heroes return! Fresh from their struggles with the savage b**sts of the wild!”
“They’re pissed as newts! T’ pair of ‘em!”
“Male bonding is the technical term I believe Alice.”
“Wot gerrin’ blathered before lunchtime?!”
“Yes well fear not! Retribution awaits! They‘ll sober up right sharpish when they learn that we’re formally invited to tea with the Lady at four thirty on the dot! That’ll wipe the smile off their faces!”
“I’ll kick our Danny’s backside fer ‘im if ‘e ‘ain’t up ter scratch afore we ‘ave ter meet ‘Er Ladyship fer tea!”
“Why do you think the human race came up with the idea of the cold shower Alice? It was considered as efficacious in keeping the male of the species under control in English public schools for many generations I believe. I’ve often felt that it was a great loss that its usage fell out of favour.”
Robin and Daniel stepped up on to the terrace grinning foolishly. “Morning girls! Morning!” Robin greeted them with great bonhomie, if a little too loudly. Rebecca regarded him rather as she would some unpleasant object she’d just discovered blocking the drain.
“Whilst I am gratified by your effusive greeting My Lord I must nevertheless point out a minor technical error in its content since it might have escaped your addled notice that it is in fact close to one o’clock in the afternoon!”
“Really? Is it that late?”
“It is indeed My Lord!”
“Well, well! Tempus fugit!”
“Yes My Lord! I can’t think where the hours have gone to!”
“We’ve been fishing!”
“Indeed? How nice for you.”
“Danny caught a beauty!”
“There’s been two beauties dangling on a hook and waiting for you all morning My Lord Robin!”
“Oh er… have you been wondering where we were then?”
“Yes My Lord! Those are essentially the facts although I would have phrased it a little more strongly myself.”
“Well er… sorry about that. You know how time flies when you’re out fishing.”
“I’m afraid not My Lord. I’m not a devotee of pis**torial activities.”
“Well it just shoots past!”
“Especially if one has a few shots to shoot it with I presume.”
“Oh yes well we did have a wee dram to celebrate Danny’s fish.”
“A wee dram My Lord? From where I am sitting the effusion would seem to suggest a fair percentage of the output of a medium sized distillery!”
“Oh does it whiff a bit?”
“Short of the entire terrace bursting into spontaneous combustion with the fumes in the atmosphere I can hardly see how it could “whiff” less!”
“Well sorry about that! How about a bite to eat?”
“We may possibly spare you a few crumbs and leftovers on one proviso.”
“That is?”
“That is My Lord on the condition that you now immediately shower, change your clothes, comb your hair, brush your teeth and generally make yourself fit to be seen in our company. Once you are presentable we shall condescend to accept your grovelling apologies for leaving us kicking our heels all morning and your solemn promises to conduct yourselves with due propriety and deference for the rest of the day!”
“An that goes fer you an’ all Danny me lad!” Alice interceded. “We’re ‘avin’ tea wi’ Lady Mathom at four thirty. God ‘elp yer if’n yer not in a fit state be then! Any bl**dy pong o’ whisky or fish on yer be then an’ yer won’t be catchin’ t’ fish yer’ll be joinin’ ‘em!” Daniel shuffled his feet and lost the stupid grin that had adorned his face.
Robin turned to Daniel and observed. “I rather think we’re in the doghouse Danny. We’d better go and jump under the shower. There’s a cold chill out here.” The two men left rather more subdued.
Once they were out of earshot Alice burst into laughter. “Oh Becky! Yer just brilliant! You ‘ad ‘em shufflin’ their feet like a pair of naughty schoolboys up in front of t’ ‘eadmistress!”
“Well, as I observed before Alice, one’s got to have a little discipline. We’ll make them squirm for an hour or two and then, if they fawn upon us satisfactorily, we’ll graciously forgive them with a pat on the head and permit them to accompany us to tea.”
Alice giggled, “Aren’t yer bein’ a bit ‘ard on ‘em?”
“Not at all! Merciful if anything! If they think there’s a cold chill now can you imagine the Siberian blast they’d have had to face presenting themselves before the Lady in that condition?”
“Aye there is that! bl**dy ’ell! I wouldn’t like to get on ‘er wrong side! It don’t bear thinkin’ about!”
“Well I’ve been there and done that and got the scars to prove it! So you may take it from me that I’m only saving them from a far worse fate!”
“Anyway I never got round ter askin’ yer. Ow was your Jenny?”
“She seems fine Alice. Feeling a little harassed and sore perhaps but otherwise just fine.”
“Where is she Becky? Is she somewhere else in t’ ouse?”
“She’s in the cellars Alice.”
“In the cellars?”
“Yes Alice. We have a disciplinary wing down in the cellars where we slaves are apt to find ourselves incarcerated from time to time.”
“Yer mean she’s locked up down there? Like she’s in jail or summat?” Alice looked shocked.
“Not quite like that Alice. Actually unless she’s in fact chained up for the moment there isn’t a thing from stopping her walking out other than the fact that she hasn’t any clothes on that is.”
“What? Yer mean she’s got no clothes on? What the ‘ell is all this?”
“Look Alice. I need to talk to you about this. I’ve asked if we can go and visit Jenny this week because I really want you to meet her but before we do, I’ve got to explain about the circumstances. Will you promise to listen and not be too shocked by what I have to tell you?” Once Rebecca had extracted a promise she proceeded to tell Alice about the cellars and the circumstances in which a slave of Mathom Hall might find themselves in for a stay in them. When she had finished Alice stared at her in astonishment.
“Yer mean yer can be sent down there any time ‘Er Ladyship wants an’ fer as long as she wants?”
“Yes effectively.”
“An’ yer just accept this?”
“Absolutely. Oh it’s a bit wretched the first couple of times but you do get used to it. After a while you even get to look forward to it. Becomes a little bit of a holiday actually.”
“A holiday?”
“Yes a bit of a break. Time to chill out. You get an awful lot of time to relax in jail.”
“Fergive me fer sayin’ Becky but it ‘ardly sounds like Butlin’s”
“No you’re right! It’s considerably more pleasant than that.”
“T’ redcoats don’t exactly chain folk up ter t’ wall an’ ‘ave ‘em whipped Becky!”
“No they don’t. They really ought to institute the practise. I’m sure they’d find their bookings quadrupling over night! It would be a bl**dy improvement on Karaoke! Me I’d ten times rather have a sound whipping than have to suffer some prat, without one iota of musical talent, murdering a Gloria Gaynor song! Much as I admire Japanese culture they have an awful lot to answer for as well.”
“Be serious Becky. I’m ‘avin’ an’ ‘ard time getting’ me ‘ead around all this.”
“Listen don’t let it worry you. Maybe I’ve made it sound worse than it really is. I thought that maybe on Wednesday, the night before you leave, we could go and join Jenny for dinner in the cellars and you could get to know her. Then maybe you’d see that it’s not anything like as bad as it sounds. What do you think?”
“Would we ‘ave to go naked an‘ all?”
“No Alice. We’re just visitors. Jenny would have to be of course but I dare say by Wednesday she’ll be pretty much used to it.”
“Ave you ‘ad to go down in t’ cellars an’ all before?”
“Oh yes! More than once! I once spent six weeks down there!”
“Six weeks!”
“Yes and I’ll tell you this Alice I’d do it again! The cellars can change you in ways you don’t expect. It’s an experience you never forget. Sometimes we even ask to be imprisoned voluntarily. You get to like it. I can’t really explain it to you but there’s a certain comfort in being cocooned in the cellars. You get to know a great deal about yourself. You get to learn to live with your own company and it can be illuminating. You emerge from a period in the cellars feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world again. The sun always seems to shine a bit brighter after a few days in the cellars. Life’s problems never seem to be so horrendous after all. And you’re not always alone either. We have a saying here, you might have heard me use it, when we love somebody we say that we’d like them to share our prison cell. The cellars aren’t just about punishment they’re about love too. Where do you think Robin and I first got together?”
“What in these cellars?”
“Correct. I slept with Robin for the first time in a cell in the cellars so you might say I have a certain fondness for them. Hundreds of people have gone down alone into the cellars and come out on the arm of a lover Alice. In a sense that’s what they’re all about. They’re a little bit like our purgatory in a way. We go down into the cellars for our sins, find redemption in them and emerge with the slate wiped clean and in love, the most cleansing balm to the soul there is. Nobody leaves the cellars regretting the experience for one minute.”
“Becky if …I mean if’n I was to become ‘Er Ladyship’s slave too would I ‘ave ter spend time down there an’ all?”
“Almost certainly Alice. Would you like to join me there? I would love to share your chains Alice.”
“Eee! I don’t know Becky! This is just so weird!”
“Alright then let’s leave it until Wednesday. After you’ve been down there to visit Jenny you might see the thing in a different light.”
“Are the boys coming along for this as well?”
“No I think we’d better leave them upstairs. Robin knows the score but Daniel would probably fall down in a dead faint. Anyway Jenny might be a bit put out having to entertain two men completely naked. She’s not very easy around men just yet.”
All right then. I’m up fer it but yer must admit it sounds loopy.”
“We’re the weirding folk remember. We don’t do normal!”
“’Ow big are these cellars anyway?”
“Huge Alice!” Rebecca waved a hand at the Great Hall. “If you think the hall is big you’ve no idea just how much of it stretches underground. There are miles of tunnels and caves under our feet Alice. They’re vast! You’ve no idea!”
Neither did Jennifer have any idea of the full extent of the labyrinth beneath the grounds of Mathom Hall but she was beginning to gain some impression. She was walking through a part of the network now, attached by the wrist to Rachel who was giving her a guided tour. Jennifer was beginning to feel bewildered. There seemed no end to the corridors and chambers they had passed through and she knew that without Rachel she would be hopelessly lost. Rachel had shown her the cider presses, the fully equipped brewery, the massive wine cellars with row upon row of dusty vintages and the creamery where Rachel had explained the old fashioned way of making cheese. They’d tried a little of the cheese that was still made there and it was tart and delicious. There’d been the big coal cellars. In former times, Rachel had explained, before the installation of central heating, it had taken a small troop of young boys with buckets to feed the innumerable fires within the Hall. The huge coal cellars were fed from chutes from the outside and had been called “Hell” in former times. Now they weren’t used to the same extent and the old black coal from the coalfields to the south had been replaced with smokeless fuels. At one point they entered a region where it was very warm and smelled of chlorine. They were underneath the big swimming pool Rachel explained and the chlorination and heating plants were down here.
There was one fantastic room that Rachel had showed her that turned out to be merely one part of an intricate complex. They’d had to enter through a sealed door into an atmospherically controlled chamber where, stretching away for more than a hundred yards, were tall high cabinets on sliding rails. At first Jennifer had been puzzled until Rachel had slid one of the big cabinets out and showed her the contents. It was full of precious leather bound books and bound documents. This room she’d explained was part of the vast archives of the Hall. The archives were one of the wonders of the Hall Rachel had explained. There were documents that went back centuries well back into the first millennium. There were books in here that people hadn’t even looked at for hundreds of years. There were restricted parts of the archives where only those with special permission were allowed to delve into the hidden past of the House of Mathom and its multitude of secrets and there were parts that nobody had any idea anymore what was in them. The chambers containing the archives were a treasure store of historical data, a labyrinth of Ali Baba’s caves of precious information. It would take decades even to catalogue the contents of these archives let alone read more than a tithe of them. There were revelations in there that hadn’t seen the light of day for hundreds of years. Jennifer had shivered. Even to be just in the presence of such a vast store of archaic material from the past had been spooky. Here was where the Hall buried its skeletons and hid its secrets. You could almost hear the dark past whispering at you.
They’d passed through some of the more utilitarian of the cellars’ chambers and seen the huge network of plumbing and heating systems. Here they’d had an unexpected encounter for as they rounded a corner they’d come upon a man and a young lad working on some machinery. Had she been alone Jennifer would have run and hidden her nakedness but Rachel led her quite calmly past the two. The elder man had seen them and jumped to his feet to bow politely and the younger man had followed his example blushing furiously but forgetting his cap. His elder colleague had poked him sharply with his elbow and growled “Yer ‘at son!” and the young man had dashed his cap from his head hastily, his cheeks crimson with mortification. The elder man had spoken to them saying “A good day ter yer miladies. Thank you for gracin’ us workplace.” Rachel had just smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.
Once past them Jennifer had said to Rachel “That was embarrassing!”
“Yes.” Rachel had agreed “I thought the poor lad was going to faint! He’s probably getting his ear clipped now for forgetting his manners.”
“I meant it was embarrassing for us!”
“Whatever for? We’re high ladies of this House and if we choose to walk about naked that is our business. I’m sure it won’t be the first time that the man there has seen a naked woman in the cellars. I don’t know about the young lad though! He’ll probably be telling all his friends in the pub about it tonight!”
“I didn’t know that they were allowed to come down here.”
“Of course they are. You don’t think that Sebastian could possibly run this entire establishment by himself do you? No it requires any number of maintenance workers to keep all this running.”
“Can they just go anywhere they please?”
“No naturally not. They’re not allowed into the penal areas where we live for example. That’s not to say that occasionally one doesn’t find himself in there if some lady prisoner decides to grant him the favour of her pleasure and lure him in. I wouldn’t have minded making a man out of that young lad myself. He was cute wasn’t he?” Jennifer sighed and shook her head in bewilderment.
They’d wandered far from their jail cells and found themselves in dark regions where Rachel had carried a lamp and shown Jennifer the caves stretching way back under the grounds and into the hills. They’d only penetrated a short distance however and Jennifer was grateful for that for it was cool in these areas and she was frightened of the dark caverns. There’d been signs saying “Danger Keep Out!” and a couple of passageways had been sealed with steel mesh gates and signs saying “Restricted area- no admittance.” She’d been grateful when they’d finally turned back.
Now they were once again nearing their jail and it almost felt like coming home. Even in their jail quarters however there were chambers that Jennifer had not previously seen. Some of these were quite frightening for they had an obvious penal function with hanging chains or formidable looking pieces of apparatus that were clearly designed for restraining their victims. Rachel was quite unabashed by all these chambers and even showed a perverse pride in the ingenuity and variety of the penal instruments to hand.
What really interested Jennifer however was the graffiti. All over the jail quarters generations of prisoners had scratched graffiti into the stone and brickwork. Many of the examples were funny or poignant. In many cases the prisoner had just left their name but there were numerous examples of lovers’ marks with two or more names or initials around a heart with an arrow through it. Rachel showed her one around a triangle with the names Maureen, Madeleine and Pixie on it and Jennifer found it immensely touching but there were hundreds of others. It was a historic document in its own right cataloguing the multitude of slaves that had passed beneath these vaults. Some had dates on them that placed them back as far as the eighteenth century and even earlier. Others were just funny with silly poems and rude drawings. There was one that said “I was a good girl when I came down here but now I’m really good!” Another that simply said “Annie D was here…. again!” There was a thought-provoking phrase on one wall that said, “If you don’t know why you’re down here you probably deserve to be!” and somebody had written underneath “So you didn’t huh s****r?” There were many uses of the word “s****r” which pointed to the essentially feminine character of the cellar’s prisoners but Jennifer knew that men occasionally were incarcerated here as well. Nevertheless there was a definite continuity of s****rhood among the many people that had left their marks on these walls and a streak of black humour running through the comments. In one alcove underneath some hanging chains there was one comment written close to the floor that Jennifer couldn’t read at first until she realised that it was upside down. It would in fact be perfectly visible to someone hung up by the ankles from the chains above. It read simply “That’s another fine mess you’ve got yourself into s****r!”
There were many references to Sebastian as well and some of them were deliciously teasing such as the one that asked “Does Sebastian only take whipped cream in his coffee?… Discuss.” Or another that said, “Please scream quietly… loud noises upset Sebastian!” Jennifer wondered just how long Sebastian had ruled these cellars for some of the graffiti referring to him seemed very old. One even had a date on it and the date was revealing for it said “Belinda and Beatrice… married under Sebastian’s whip, June 1926” Jennifer felt the hair on the back of her neck tingle. Even stranger were the references to Lady Mathom although she was rarely mentioned by name. One ditty ran,
“For the sins of my flesh in the times of my leisure,
Whipped down here at My Ladyship’s pleasure!”
And there were even fond and loving pieces about her such as the one that said,
“I will endure my pain and bondage,
And not yearn for open skies,
Within these halls of penance,
Laments, groans and sighs,
Nor wish for peace and solace,
Until my wretched lies,
Be long and well forgiven.
By My Lady’s purple eyes.”
Jennifer felt some strange kindred with the author of these odd lines and indeed she began to feel a part of greater whole. These were her spiritual s****rs that had passed this way and left the history of their passing for posterity. This in truth was the Line, a continual thread that linked her to all these others and Jennifer felt a great love and sense of belonging within the s****rhood that knew the reality of Sebastian’s netherworld beneath the House of Mathom. It put her own incarceration into perspective and made her sufferings easier to bear to feel that she belonged to such an elite sorority.
Finally Rachel led her back into the big chamber where they took their meals and lived. They seated themselves at the big table and Rachel took up the rapidly expanding file she was keeping on Jennifer’s progress. “OK.” she began, “Well you’ve had a mixed day so far. I was quite pleased with your posture and balance but your self presentation sucks Jenny!” Jennifer was at least relieved that the latter parts of the morning exercises had passed reasonably well. Rachel had had her walk along narrow wooden beams sometimes with books balanced on her head to test her balance and coordination and put her through a series of yoga exercises to tease some quality of graceful posture and bodily awareness out of her and she’d not been too bad in that context.
Rachel had also started to teach her some basic meditation techniques borrowed from Eastern culture to teach her harmony and tranquillity and Jennifer had found them soothing and enjoyable. Rachel had prescribed a programme of light meditation for her; confined to twenty minutes a day, and Jennifer had found the prospect agreeable. She had an interest in Eastern meditative practises and was willing to explore them albeit under strict guidelines. Rachel had had Jennifer adopt a posture she’d described as the “Seven Points of Vairocana” which entailed sitting crossed legged on a cushion, with her spine straight, her hands on her knees, her eyes half opened and focussed down, her chin tucked in, her mouth slightly open and her tongue touching the roof of her mouth. Once in this position she’d had Jennifer empty her mind of future or past thoughts and simply allow her mind to be in a natural state without conceptualisations. The cellars provided a wonderful environment for such meditation and Jennifer discovered the beginnings of a stillness within her that she was eager to explore further.
Finally Rachel put down the file and sighed “Little madam here demands that I take a siesta honey so I’ll hand the next part of your program over to Sebastian. This evening I have work to do so after our evening meal you can press on with your essay. Get Sebastian to help you if you get stuck.”
“What’s my program for the rest of the afternoon ma-am?”
“Oh you’re going to be whipped Jenny.”
“Oh!”
“Chin up dear! Happens to us all! How was your letter from Julie by the way?”
“Difficult! Julie’s handwriting is rotten I could hardly read most of it! Just wanted to say she loves me and misses me. I miss her too.”
“It’ll only be a short while dear. If you’d like to write her a quick letter back this evening I’ll make sure somebody delivers it for you. Now let’s find Sebastian and attend to your whipping.” Sebastian wasn’t far away and he was entirely sympathetic to the idea of relieving Rachel of the chore of whipping Jennifer.
“Why of course Miss Rachel! I would be delighted to attend to Miss Jennifer in your stead. May I enquire as to your well being Miss? I sincerely hope that you haven’t been overtaxing yourself.”
“I’m fine Sebastian. Pregnancy just makes you a little tired on occasion.”
“So I understand Miss. When I heard that you were coming for a visit, I felt it incumbent on myself to obtain some reading material and familiarise myself with the symptoms and conditions of a lady’s period of gestation. I found the reading most useful and informative.”
“Oh Sebastian! You’ve been worrying about me!”
“I must confess that I was somewhat concerned Miss Rachel. It is not usual to have a lady visit these cellars in your delicate condition.”
Rachel stood up on tiptoes and kissed Sebastian fondly “Do stop worrying Sebastian. I’m as healthy as an ox just doing what comes naturally.”
“I’m gratified to hear it Miss. I understand that you are going to bless this House with a girl c***d Miss.”
“That’s right Sebastian.”
“May I be so bold as to inquire whether or not you have chosen a name for the young lady?”
“No I haven’t as yet. If I’d been expecting a boy I was going to call him Sebastian.”
“Miss! You do me far too much honour!” Jennifer was shocked to see the moisture of tears in Sebastian’s eyes.
“Not at all Sebastian. I could not possibly do you honour enough. But it’s not a boy so I’m stuck now. Would you do me a great service Sebastian?”
“I would be honoured to Miss.”
“Would you pick out a name for my baby for me?”
“Really Miss! I wouldn’t dare to presume so much!”
“Please Sebastian! It would mean an awful lot to me!”
“No really I… “
“Please Sebastian!”
“Well Miss I….”
“Yes Sebastian?”
Sebastian cleared his throat “Well there is one name that comes to mind Miss although I wouldn’t for a moment be so presumptuous as to suggest you would use it.”
“What is it Sebastian?”
“Well I knew a lady once called Gentiana…”
“What an unusual name!”
“Yes I know Miss. But I often think about her when I see you. You remind me a good deal of her.”
“Who was she Sebastian?”
“A lady I knew many years ago Miss.”
“How did she come by such a name?”
“It’s of Latin derivation Miss. It is the generic name for the gentian, the little purple flowers that bloom on the mountainsides when the snow has melted.”
“Oh that’s beautiful!”
“Of course I’m sure that it would not be an appropriate name in this day and age. It was a long time ago.”
“What happened to her Sebastian?”
“I’m afraid that she died in one of our terrible wars Miss.”
“Oh I’m so sorry to hear that Sebastian! Did you know her well?”
“Yes Miss. She and I we had…. well an understanding. We were informally affianced you might say.”
“Oh Sebastian I’m so sorry!”
“I… I have an old photograph of her somewhere. She was very beautiful.”
Rachel felt on the point of tears. Somewhere she began to understand Sebastian’s long years of bachelorhood, the years of solitude within these cellars. “What do you think Jenny?” she asked.
“I… I think that’s a lovely name Pixie”
“Sebastian my daughter’s name will be Gentiana. There’ll be a little purple flower born to this House!”
“I didn’t wish to impose that name on you Miss I was just reminiscing really.”
“I know you didn’t Sebastian. Nevertheless my daughter will be named Gentiana. I will bring her up to know the wisdom you have shown me in these cellars. You will be grandparent to her. She will become the Lady Gentiana and by the Goddess I will make you proud of her!”
Sebastian wiped his eyes hastily. “Miss, My Lady… I am touched…. deeply touched.”
“Will you seal it with a kiss Sebastian?” In humble tenderness Sebastian folded Rachel in his massive arms and kissed her lightly.
“I shall treasure this day always Miss Rachel.”
“Thank you Sebastian. And thank you for the gift of my daughter’s name! Now if you please I must lie down a while.” Rachel disentangled herself and embraced Jennifer gently addressing herself to Sebastian. “Take good care of her Sebastian. This is a queen of the Line!”
“Miss Jennifer will be entirely safe in my hands Miss Rachel.”
Rachel turned to Jennifer and stroked her cheek fondly “Go with Sebastian now Jenny. Be brave. It’ll only be a short whipping. I’ll see you later on.”
Rachel left them and Jennifer felt a strange calm possess her. When Sebastian cleared his throat to say, “If you would care to accompany me Miss Jennifer.” she turned and followed him quietly in tranquil resignation her mind still wondering at the scene she had just witnessed. There would be a c***d to these cellars she now saw. The old vaults would reverberate to the sounds of a c***d’s laughter and become blessed because of it. She could see into a future where a pretty young girl c***d would sip her cocoa and eat her biscuits as her doting old surrogate grandfather told her fantastic fairy stories from his endless repertoire by the fire side in his chambers. There would be a c***d that would run free and unafraid through these corridors, a c***d that would know every nook and cranny of them, who would watch the baby bats clinging to their mothers at their roosts and give them silly names, a c***d who would feed the little cellar mice with crumbs, a c***d who would sit for hours poring over the old books in the archives and find wonder and adventure in them. Jennifer envied that c***d her c***dhood.
In the whipping chamber that she had first encountered in the cellars Sebastian gave her a ribbon “Perhaps it would be better for you to tie your hair up for convenience Miss Jennifer.” Jennifer complied calmly, tying her long auburn tresses up in the ribbon so that it would not impede the whip on her back and then held out her hands so that Sebastian could attach the cuffs on her wrists to the chains hanging from the ceiling. Sebastian tightened the chains until her arms were stretched vertically above her and she was standing on the balls of her feet. She looked over her shoulder and watched Sebastian take down a long bullwhip from the wall. She closed her eyes and prayed for fortitude. Somewhere in her mind’s eye she saw a little girl saying to her “It’s only a little whipping Miss. Sebastian doesn’t really want to hurt you. Maybe when you’ve had your whipping we can have some cocoa and cake together and Sebastian can tell us the story about that old Chinese soldier again.” She felt tears prick at her eyes with the beauty of the vision and the hissing lash of the whip across her shoulders was almost bittersweet in its agonising caress. Even as she writhed in her agony and screamed in the quiet of the chamber, with the whip curling around her body, stinging her back, her buttocks, her legs, stomach and breasts, falling away in heavy coils from her tortured flesh after each lash, she saw the little girl sitting cross-legged on the floor before her saying “Only a little whipping! Nearly finished now. Then we can have some fun!” For it was just a little whipping and she, slave of the House of Mathom, must endure it for there was light and pleasure, and love beyond.
__________________________________________________________________________

... Continue»
Posted by Mikebasil 2 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Lesbian Sex  |  Views: 391  |  
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THE ACTION (PART 1)

Stories by EckieI received an email from a friend, inviting me to a party where they wanted to hold a sort of slave auction. Several Masters and slaves will be invited and during the evening the slaves will be auctioned off for the weekend - or in case the two right matches are finding each other, even for lifetime. The email stated that for the weekend enough toys and space is provided for all to enjoy the party and results of the auction.
I do not consider myself master or owner, in fact I like to switch in terms of BDSM play, but I sure like the play of owning a slave for a while and having a slave in total obedience to any command at my disposal... so I thought I would attend to that party and take it from there.

The party was scheduled for the weekend in two weeks, so it was no problem for me to arrange the time off and the travel there. I arrived at the given location Friday late afternoon - bit early, but the host welcomed me with some snacks and drinks. I asked him who's going to be around for the auction and he told me that it seems there will be 7 slaves to sell, but 9 masters to buy ... so the will have to find a solution for this, maybe a slave shared by two or three masters, or two slaves shared - they will discuss before the party starts with all attendees.

Even though my intentions were to 'buy a boy for the weekend, still I thought that being a switch I would not have any trouble with changing my original thoughts and attending instead as a slave to sell for the auction. The host smiled and sort of relieved answered that in this case there would not be any problem, but of course I would have to change over to the slave waiting area instead now and not continue sitting and chatting here with him like a master would. He gave me one of the slave-questionnaires to fill in then, making sure the coming bidders will know what they bid for.

The questionnaire was simple - what the limits are, what the preferences are, what I would do and not do, also about my physical state and preferences in a master. It was filled in quickly, of course all bondage related questions had a big YES crossed on and my limits were stated on too. Not being prepared to be the slave on this party I didn't bring much of clothing with me, but my host assured me he could help out there with some of his stuff for the time being.

He led me into the basement and asked me to strip off already. Being early I was the only one in that room at the moment, others still to come soon then ... He came back with some bits and pieces while I already stood there naked with my clothes piled on the floor. He had read my questionnaire so knew a few items to use. He told me to bend forward and immediately I felt his lubed fingers at my butt. With enough lube at my ass he then slipped in a medium sized plug telling me that slaves asses should be plugged normally - having a wide grin on his face. He then took a rubber body harness and held it in front of me. It went over my shoulders and he started buckling up the straps. It was strapping over the shoulders, the chest, just over the waist and a strap then between the legs to the back which included a cockring. Having all buckled up the strap between the legs secured the plug too.

Next he gave me some tall lace up boots, going up to just under the knees. I put them on and laced them up proper. Holding up a collar and a hood he asked me if I wanted to wait for the auction more relaxed and see the others arrive or get ready complete as I will be lead out to the auction podium later already. As I felt some horny already I told him that I would not mind getting completed right away and wait for the auction then proper fitted. With that he took the hood and slipped it over my head. It was a leatherhood without eyes, only noseholes and open mouth, a zip on the back and lacing on each side. He zipped it down on the back and started adjusting the laces on the sides to make is snug fitting. Next came a wide collar around my neck and once buckled shut I heard the clicking of a padlock - he locked the hood and collar together so that they could not be taken off by me. The keys for that will go to the highest bidder once you're sold, until then it will remain on, he said to me.

Then he put on leather mittens to each of my hands, locking my hands in a fist inside, buckling them rendered my hands quite unusable already. He then told me that he saw in my questionnaire that all the bondage related questions had a big yes next to them, so I sure should not mind getting a special setup for the 'waiting' and later on 'presentation' for the auction. He was leading me into the next room I hadn't seen yet. He put some kneepads on my knees and some ellbowpads too and then told me to get down on my fours on the small podium right in front of me. I went down on my knees and mittens, he then told me to hold still when I feel some cold metal on my skin, preparing me further on.

He told me to rest on my elbows, not on the mittens and I felt then metal restraints applied to my wrists, they were connected with a stabile metal bar about 2 feet spread from each other. Also attached rigid a steel collar, in which he placed my neck and closed it. Next came metal shackles around my ankles, also spread and rigid connected, additional shackles just over my knees, again rigid connected, so that I had to keep my legs and feet in the same slight spread position. He continued attaching more metal between the bar of the wrist connection to the ankle connection, making it impossible to move them together or away from each other. Next he applied some more metal just above my elbows, rigid connected to the bar that went from arms to legs, and last came a metal belt around my waist, and also rigid connected to the bar that went from arms to legs. By all that I was quite unable to move anywhere at all and had to remain in the position I was until someone would have bought me and release me. Last but not least he inserted a gag into my mouth and buckled it on the back of my head. 'Almost ready' he said, and I could not really imagine what else was left, being immobile, blind, gagged, plugged...

Because you weren't planned as slave-to-sell for this might I am going to keep you as surprise as last object for auctioning, so I'll have to hide you in-between of course - he said. The little platform you're kneeling on in on wheels, and it is not just a platform, but actually the bottom of a disassembled box which will cover you in your current position completely. When I have reassembled it you'll make a nice table I have next to me while I do the auctioning, and once it's your turn I'll reveal the surprise slave ... with that I heard some noises near me and he started reassembling the box, all sidewalls came in place, some metal clanking told me he's putting all together shut. When at last the lid was brought on top and the same metal noise told me it is locked on now too the surrounding noises became quite dampened, so I knew I was completely hidden inside the box by now. Then the box moved, so he was now rolling it out to the other room where later on the auction will take place and once the moving stopped I didn't hear anything anymore - he must have left.

Being on my own I was thinking about my situation and became quite aroused with it - having planned on playing top with some slave for a while and looking at the position I am in right now was very exciting ... It seems this auction party will for sure be a horny time for me if things continue as good as they started right now.

During time I heard the doorbell a few times and the noises became more and more - people obviously arrived. Some went silent quickly, so probably slaves being lead into the 'waiting area' - others continued chatting, probably the masters who will be bidding soon and stayed in the room already.

At some point the host must have come right next to the box I was in and announced the begin of the auction, telling the masters that due to the problem of having one slave missing in count to get some auctioned for every master, there has been a slight change and one of the top that applied for the auction previously is now being auctioned off as slave and he'll be the last object to go today.

One by one I heard slaves being brought in, presented and various biddings done on each of them. Some got auctioned pretty quickly, others were objects to excessive biddings - I would have loved to watch and see it, but no way in my current position. All in all I think I was in that box now for something like 3 hours, slowly my body started aching from the immobility it was f***ed into. But finally I hear the host announcing the final object. The box was again moved a little, probably placed in a better viewing position, before the same metal clacking indicated the lid and walls being taken off. I still couldn't see anything in the hood, but with all other slaves being auctioned off already, there should be only one master left for bidding, so the one that dared to wait for the unknown slave to come, unlike the others who made their sales on the objects they have seen and inspected.

The host announced that because this object is usually top and volunteered only for this occasion and because there is no competition in bidding anymore, the starting bid will be set higher and the remaining master can either accept it or joining the others with their slaves and leave this object out. I heard another voice saying that he accepts the price and bids for this object - somehow I thought to remember that voice, but could not assign it to any face.

With that last object (me) being sold too, the host announced that the party can start - each slave has his owner for the duration of time they agreed to in their questionnaire, no slave is to refuse his buyer, no slave is to disobey his owners. I couldn't remember having seen that question on the form about the duration of the play, but wasn't too worried as it was a weekend party and I again felt quite horny, still in my rigid there on the podium, waiting what my buyer will have in mind next for me.

I felt a hand stroking my hooded head and the buyer's voice said to me: I think the waiting has paid off, I could see in your questionnaire you're heavily into bondage, just like I am, and that's what you will get from now on, boy. Our host told me you're in there now a few hours already, well; I will take you out in a while and get you done in a proper way as I want to see my slave. Until then - don't run away - and he left with that ... I had a grin on my covered face - how would I run away from my current position ... and I thought I even felt my dick dripping some precum, so horny I was with the thought of what is to come.. It sounded promising that my buyer obviously matched what I stated in my questionnaire.

I must have been left there at least another hour, hearing quite some noises of plays the masters obviously had with their slaves, I kept being horny trying to imagine what the actions were that matched the sounds I hears, also trying to imagine myself being part of those actions. Suddenly I felt someone working on all the metal on my, one by one they were removed until I at the end was able to move free again, still hooded and gagged, still plugged and mitted, but able to move again. I stretched my body a bit - remaining on the floor though, knowing I was slave to my buyer for now and thus should wait for his orders. 'Get up, boy' I heard him say and he helped me up on my feet, being so long in that position I was a bit weak on my legs. Knowing what I expect usually from a bottom I play with I stood legs slightly spread, hands on my back, head bowed and waited. 'Good boy, I see you know how to behave, even though you're top as I heard' he said to me. Being still gagged I wasn't to reply to that.

He took me then to another room, took off my mitts and told me to get out of the boots. Still hooded I tried feeling my way around, but managed to get out rather quickly. He stood me up then again and started removing the harness and also the padlock on the collar was unlocked and the collar taken off, the hood and gag still remained on. He told me to bend over and stay like that. Then he took out the plug but immediately added some lube again to my ass, and right next I felt another plug, almost same sized, maybe slightly larger being inserted until it was fully in. He told me then that this one has two tubes, in and out to flush my ass when needed, and it is going to stay where it is, and it will all the time stay there unless he tells any different. Then he slipped a cockring over my balls and my dick.

'Let me get this boy dressed up nicely now, they way I want to see my slave' he said and told me to lift my right leg to step into some shorts. When doing so I felt the shorts being rubber, and both feet inside he pulled it up all the way. He places the tubes from the plug in prepared holed on the back and it had a sheet for the cock and the balls, he squeezed my dick and balls in place, being well lubed inside the shorts, it was no problem getting all in place. Additionally I felt him adding something to the cockring, it seems he adds wires to it, so that ring is obviously part of a tens unit. He also did the same on the back at the plug - I guessed it was part of that unit as well. Again he told me to lift the leg and he applied some long rubber socks to both legs, going even over the knees. Then he told me to stretch my arms and he pulled up long rubber gloves on each hand, reaching almost up to the armpits, they fitted like a second skin.

'I have a special shirt now here, I will take off your hood now and you will keep your eyes closed, boy - don't even dare thinking about opening the eyes, you will regret it deeply if you do, boy' he said and stood behind me and unzipped the hood, took it off, and I kept my eyes closed as he ordered. 'Put your arms up, I'm going to slip down that shirt on you, boy' he ordered. My arms went into the rubber shirt which seemed to be not too thick and quite short, my head disappeared inside too and to my surprise there was a hood attached to it which he pulled down over my head. He straightened the rubber on my arms and on the head, the hood had nose and mouth hole, but again I was blind as it did not have eyes again. The shirt reached just over my chest, so I assumed it was some sort of 'underwear and not meant to be a full shirt.

'Hold still now, it'll be over quick then he said, when I immediately felt some pain on my dick - he inserted a catheter into my dick and once it was all inside inflated the balloon inside, so that it won't be getting out so soon. He then led me to a chair and told me to sit. Then he again told me to lift my foot to step into the legs of that rubber suit he has now for me to wear. He helped both legs inside the suit, pulled it up over my knees, straightened the rubber and told me to get up again. Then he continued pulling the suit up over my waist, carefully pulling the tubes of the plug again through the holes on the back again, and carefully squeezing dick and balls in the existing sheets, making sure the catheter also goes in the right opening of that sheet on the front. Then he continued pulling up the suit which was quite tight on the body - obviously a neckentrysuit. Being at the chest he then told me to get my arms inside the sleeves - again the suit was well prelubed so they slipped in well and my hands ended in the attached gloves. He finally pulled the suit over my shoulders, straightened the rubber on the arms and body before pulling the attached open-face hood over my already covered head. On the backside over the shoulders was a two-way zip, he closed it from both sides towards the middle and the clicking of a padlock ensured me that I won't be getting out alone there.

He suddenly slapped my hard dick several times quite hard, I was surprised and because of the pain the hardon quickly was gone. That's better, he said and pulled on both, my dick and balls, stretching them away from my body. Then he applied something I could not make out what it is, but I felt my balls and my dick suddenly squeezed into something hard and tight, there would be not much room left to get hard again without pain. The device must have been two half's which I heard snapping together once fully closed and encasing my genitals tightly. Some belt was then applied over my waist and a strap went down to that device and buckled in place, another strap from the back through my legs looped through the tip of that device, and when strapped tight pulled that device tight between my legs to the back, pushing it tight and close between my legs backwards - I think it must look now as if I had no genitals anymore, they sort of disappeared between my legs, and if I would get any hard, I'd be in serious trouble. Again he told me to lift the leg to slip into some shorts, he pulled them all up and I noticed them being quite strong rubber, he then fed the tubes on the backside through holes in the shorts - this time all three tubes, the two of the plug and the one of the catheter which now pointed all backwards, the shorts then zipped up, buckled up and the click of a padlock again ensured that as long as I am in this outfit there won't be any fun for me...

'That's more like it' he said 'How does my boy feel so far?' he asked. 'Very good Sir, thank You Sir', I replied, knowing some manners a slave should have towards his owner ... and that's what he was for the time being of course. 'With that plug I can flush your ass regular, you'll get only assorted fluids and vitamins for food, so it won't be a problem and your current outfit will remain on from now on, boy. I'll add as I see fit any time, but this current one will not be off so soon. he said to me. My dick tried getting hard, I loved this encasement, and loved being locked in it, and as he said he would add ... that just excited me even more, but the tight encasement of my balls and dick got me immediately down to earth, causing quite some pain right away. 'Now that the base outfit is set, I'm getting you ready for the evening entertainment - and my way of entertainment at the moment is having you sealed in and well tiedup for my eyes view.' Sealed he said - so there's more to come I thought and I had trouble to think about anything non related to prevent my dick from trying to get hard again.

'Let me make sure you're not getting cold now' he said and told me to sit down again. He then ordered me to step into that next suit he had for me. But I found out there was just one large leg to get in, not two, so I thought it must be some rubbersack or similar I am getting in now. Once my feet were inside he stood me up again and pulled it up over my waist again, this time the tubes were not places in any holes, so I was to be sealed inside completely. But then he told me to put my arms inside the sleeves, so it was not a real sack then. I slipped my arms inside the sleeves which turned out to be way too long. He pulled the suit over my shoulders and began zipping and buckling up the backside of it, making it a tight fit around my body, while I had to balance, having both legs together in sort of one leg sleeve. Next came a gag in my mouth with a breathingtube, small enough to not cause troubles, large enough to prevent making much noise. On top of it he then pulled the attached hood of the suit, strong and heavy rubber wit nose holes and another hole for the breathingtube - once zipped shut a snug fit around my head, dampening most noise around me quite a lot. Then he crossed my arms in front of me - so the upper part of this bag was to be a straitjacket. He buckled the arms on the back too, closed the strap on the front over the arms; there was no way to get out anymore by then. No seeing, little hearing, no speaking, and no walking ... I was definitely at his total mercy now. He called some other guy and together they carried my somewhere, stood me there against a post and he started using lots of straps to ensure I will be one with that post for as long as he wants. The straps went from the legs over the wais, chest, and shoulders, secured my neck and even my head so that at the end I wasn't to move at all anymore, and doomed to stand there in my encasement for his display.

'Good boy that is' I heard him say to me. 'I'm joining the others in their plays while enjoying the view on my property here for a while. But I don't want you to get bored, boy, so I'll have you enjoy yourself a bit. The remote control I have here will make sure of that.' With that said he switched it on and immediately I felt the soft shocks on my cockring and on the plug - not too heavy, but enough to get me aroused, which of course caused plenty of trouble in the rigid prison my genitals were locked in. The shocks stopped after short time, just to come back in a different intensity shortly after. It seems he has some random programming on that device, random strength, random intervals ... he was right, I won't get bored for sure, having to control my dick to prevent it from getting hard ... and that'll be quite difficult ...

I only could make out some dampened noises around me, there was for sure lots action going on, and all of the guys here are probably having lots of fun, and I was to remain here for display, still enjoying myself inside my prison, still swearing on that device around my genitals .. still ... I loved it ... The sweat has been building up before already, with the intense electroplay and my efforts to prevent any hardon I sweated even more - I felt it run down my body, and somehow I lost track of time too ... it was hard, it was horny, I loved it and I hated it, but at the moment there was no choice for me - all I could do was to wait...

After what seemed hours later to me - maybe it was hours, maybe a lot less ... I noticed the shocks have stopped for quite some time now, and after a moment I felt the straps one by one being removed. I was held towards the post; else I think I would have fallen, weakened from all the sweating and coping with my situation. I was laid down on the floor before the straps of the straitjacket were opened. The hood came off, all buckles undone and I was let out of that bagsuit. Still sitting on the floor I was told then to relax a bit and drink this - the breathingtube was fed into a bottle and I could suck in the fluids which tasted a bit strange, but I could use any refreshment I could get so eagerly emptied it slowly.

I heard him say now that it is late and the weekend is young so it is time to get me done for the night and I was told to get up on my feet. I stood up and was lead to another room. He told me to lay down there on the floor. I went down and found some padded ground where I laid down and stretched. He pushed my feet into the end of a rubbersack. It was a quite stiff material, so must have been very thick rubber. He adjusted the middle and upper part of the rubbersack and pushed my arms inside the inner sleeves of it. Again I could feel the stiffness of it, so I was sure it was not just a think rubbersack, but some really heavy rubber, at least 1/4 inch thick or maybe more. Being such thick material it almost fell in place by itself once my body was in the right position inside. The zip was just as heavy, the kind you use in drysuits, and having zipped it up to the neck it tightened the sack around my body, still comfortable and not pressing hard on it, but tight enough to prevent much of a movement. The neck sealed off the rest of the body from my head that was still outside. He than took off the gag, warning me that if I'd make any sort of noise he'll ensure I won't be able to make any noise for the next few days at all.

I heard the slamming of some metal door and figured I must have been laid inside some sort of cage, and shortly after it was silent around me. Being exhausted from that evening (yes, even not doing much but 'hanging' around makes you exhausted) - I dozed away quickly and even though I woke up several times from the pain in my dick while getting hard, I still can say I had some sl**p during might ... what will be coming tomorrow ... this turns out to be a good choice I made to volunteer for that slave part in this auction...

Part two to come....... Continue»
Posted by sir-lord-leather 1 year ago  |  Categories: BDSM  |  Views: 388  |  
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The Interview Part II

I stayed on my knees, the three guys who were interviewing me stood around me in a circle. Looking down at me with dirty, satisfied looks on their faces, their cocks still semi erect. I spoke up in a pitiful voice, "Sam is my interview done?" They all chuckled for a bit before Sam replied.

"We have to talk about that Jessica." He glanced at the other guys, "Well I have to take a serious piss, you guys want to talk about Jessica and her interview; follow me. And Jessica, you stay right there! Don't move and don't get dressed." The three went off to the men's room, by this time everyone else, I assumed, was gone since they went left the office naked. I waited for a minute and then I decided to follow them to listen in on their conversation. I could have quickly put my panties back on and left but I don't know why I stayed. Maybe it was the thrill of what I just did, giving three guys blow jobs, swallowing all that cum, getting my tits fucked by a big black cock. I had a feeling my interview was not over but part of me hoped I had satisfied their lust and I started to hope I had the job too. Although a small part of myself said if I took the job, I would be nothing more that an office slut, fuck toy, however you wanted to put it. At that moment, I didn’t really care.

I snuck through the office, naked from the waist down, still wearing my suit jacket and dress shirt, still open of course. I got to the men’s' room door and pushed it open maybe a half inch at most and I listened to the three of them as they stood at the urinals pissing away.

"How the fuck did you get that hot slut Jessica to strip down and suck cock?" Thomas asked,

"I just kept looking at those very nice big tits, we did some word play where I pretty much made it clear if she didn't show her tits she wouldn't get the job; making sure to cover my ass of course. That's when Jessica said ok and she showed me her tits. She let me play with them, and then I pulled out my cock. She gave me that bullshit about not wanting to swallow cum, then she started sucking, you guys called and that is where we are. I guess she really wants the job or she is just a slut."

Dave snickered, "What a bunch of bull shit she gave about not wanting to swallow cum. She fucking gulped it down as if she snacked on cum all the time."

"Yeah, I love watching a hot white chick swallow my spunk. She has such a fucking hot body.” added Thomas.

"You have to hire her Sam. All the guys here would love taking turns fucking Jessica."

“ I was going to offer Jessica the job for just showing me her tits! The fact she went down on my cock that easily only made it a for sure! But need to decide, are we done with interviewing her?”

Dave quickly said, "Fuck no!"

Thomas followed up by saying "Fuck no; we need some of her pussy."

"Are you guys sure? We don't want to push it too far right away."

“ Shit Sam, Jessica is not only a slut but I bet she really wants this job so I think we can fuck her nice pussy and she won't mind."

“ Yeah man, she has never had a big black cock in her pussy and you know I want to give that hot white girl that experience of a nice big, thick black cock in her pussy."

“ Ok then, we will go back and tell her the interview is not over and we will take turns at her pussy, make her earn the job."

They all laughed as they flushed. I quickly ran back to the office. I was nervous and still at odds about what I was doing. I knew it was not the way to get a job but part of me was enjoying this and part kept lying to myself saying 'you need the job; they won't do this after you take it.' Moreover, I was nervous about Thomas’s big cock. I never had sex with a black man before; I never had sex with a cock that big. I was a bit curious to know how it felt being fucked by such a long, thick cock.

I got back into the office, got back down on my knees where they had left me. The three of them strode into Sam’s office and all looked at me with smirks on their faces and apparent lust in their eyes. It was an intense moment; I still couldn’t bring myself to believe I was actually doing this.

I looked at all three of them and just asked in general, “Did you decide? Is my interview done?”

They laughed and Sam said, “Well Jessica, we talked about it and you have excellent oral skills. But we need to take a closer look at you, how I should I put this, your interpersonal skills.” Dave and Thomas smirked and nodded yes. The three of them were standing in front of me, partially erect. They watched me for a moment to see how I would react. It was not as if I had a choice.

I looked at Sam and responded by saying, “What do you want me to do?”

Sam just smirked at me, “You can start by standing up Jessica.” I stood up; the three men were slowly stroking their semi erect cocks. They just looked at me, their eyes roaming up and down my body, mainly looking at my pussy.

“Do you guys want me to take off my suit jacket and shirt?” Sam quickly said no. He said it was an interview and needed to be dressed. I think they just loved doing this to me being partially clothed. Then the three of them moved in close to me, surrounding me. Then they began to grope me. All of their hands roamed all over my body. They were feeling my tits, squeezing them, pulling and pinching my nipples, grabbing my ass, rubbing my pussy then taking turns fingering me. All of them made comments about how wet I was, how tight my pussy felt.

I had never had three men doing that to me and it did feel good, very good. I closed my eyes and just let them do what they wanted to me. I moaned every time one of them fingered my pussy. Thomas told me to watch them as they played with my pussy. I just stood there, being ‘interviewed’, watching them each slide their fingers inside me and slowly fuck me with their fingers. I moaned even more. Then Dave and Sam pulled back my shirt and suit jacket, each of them grabbed one of my tits and began to suck on them. It felt so incredible, having my tits sucked by two men at once while a third fingered my pussy. Sam and Dave played with my tits and grabbed my ass at the same time.

Then they switched, Thomas changed places with Dave. Dave got down on his knees and began to lick my pussy. I changed my stance, spreading my legs wider as he licked. Thomas and Sam sucked on my tits, bit my nipples, the three of them drove me wild. This went on for 10, 15 minutes. I don’t know, they all took turns licking my pussy as I just stood there, moaning like a slut, enjoying the sensations, enjoying being treated like this; all of this for a job.

Then Sam told the other guys that was enough, it was time to see how good my interpersonal skills were. All three of the men were fully erect, my pussy was dripping wet from what the three of them had been doing to me. Sam was holding his hard cock in his hand as he grinned at me.

“Ok Jessica, time to finish this interview by finding out how good your interpersonal skills are.” He slowly stroked his cock as he said that.

“What do you want me to do?”

Sam grinned at me. He grabbed his hardening cock as he sat down in his chair. He sat there very slowly stroking his cock, “How about you sit down on my lap” I knew exactly what he wanted; he wanted me to ride his cock. I moved slowly towards him, Dave and Thomas stepped back and watched as they stroked their cocks.

As I got up on his lap, I asked if I could take my jacket and shirt off. Sam said ‘No, we have to keep this business like.’ I was already getting sweaty and I knew I was going to be ringing wet after the three of them got done with me.

Sam held his hard cock steady I got up on the chair, on his lap and straddled his cock. I hesitated for a few moments; Sam was staring at my big tits. Then he said, “Come on Jessica, if you want this job you are going to have show us your skills. I like to conduct a very detailed interview.”

I slowly lowered myself onto his cock. He let out louder moan than I did as his cock slid into my tight wet pussy. “Oh fuck!” He finally said. He looked at the other two guys, “Fuck, you guys are going to love interviewing Jessica.”

He grabbed my tits and gave each of them a hard suck as I sat on his cock. Sam flicked his tongue across my hard nipples, lust pouring out of his eyes. ‘Come on Jessica; show me you want this job.’ I knew what he wanted and that was me riding up and down on his cock. I started very slow, rising up slowly and then slowly sliding back down, I wanted to act like I was not very willing but deep down I was very turned on. Sam let out several moans as his cock slid in and out of my pussy.

“Do you like my interpersonal skills?” I asked.

He grabbed my tits, “So far Jessica it’s the best. But you are going to have to work much harder to prove to me you are right for the job and that you want it.”

Slowly I began to ride up and down on Sam’s cock as we sat in his chair, Dave and Thomas on either side watching and listening to us, mainly me moaning. Sam pushed apart my suit jacket and dress shirt, grabbed onto my tits and buried his face between them. He moved from one to the other sucking on them, flicking his tongue across each of my erect nipple as I slowly rode his hard cock. After a bit Sam stopped sucking on my tits and looked at me, glanced at my tits bouncing up and down to the rhythm of my body riding up and down on his cock.

"Come on Jessica, you are not convincing me on how much you want this job. You are going to have to do better." I responded by riding up and down on his cock faster, moaning a bit louder as I looked at him. That seemed to please him for a moment or two before he said, "Not good enough Jessica. I want to hear you say you want this job." I knew what he wanted to hear.

I rode his cock faster, "Please Sam...I want it...this job. I need it. Please give it to me." He gave me an evil smirk and said, 'yeah that's what I want to hear Jessica. Now work harder for the job, beg for it.' Now I have to admit I was becoming very turned on by this. Even though I knew to most people, I was lowering myself for a job. I was starting to enjoy, very much, what I was doing. I rode his cock faster, bouncing harder up and down on his lap. I grabbed his head and held it between my big tits.

"Oh god Sam. I want it. I want it so bad. Please give it to me. I will do anything for it. Give it to me Sam...give it to me." I looked over at Dave and Thomas; the two of them were smiling as they jerked off a bit faster. Thomas said, 'Jessica sounds like she wants the job. Does she impress you with her skills?'

Sam pulled his head out from between my tits. He squeezed each of my tits, and then gave each of them a hard, long suck. I moaned out very loudly as I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, the pleasure was so intense. I kept my pace up knowing it would be a while before he was ready to cum again. I on the other hand was getting very close to my own orgasm. I glanced down at Sam who was still holding onto my tits as I rode his cock. He gave me a lustful grin. He told me to slow down at bit, I really didn’t want to but I did as he said. He pushed open my dress shirt and suit jacket, pushed them so they just barely slid off my shoulders so my tits were fully exposed. I still had my bra on, the cups pushed underneath my tits. Now Dave and Thomas got a good eye full of my 34D tits bouncing up and down as I rode Sam.

Sam let go of my tits and put his hands on my waist, "Lean back Jessica, put your hands on my knees." I did as he said; I reached behind myself and braced myself by placing my hands on his knees. I bent backwards, about 45 degrees or so, my big tits just sticking right out along with my hard, erect nipples.

“Don’t stop showing me how much you want the job Jessica.” Sam said to me, I knew what he meant; he wanted me to keep riding his cock. I did as he told me to, sliding up and down on his hard shaft.

“Go on look at it Jessica.” He then said. I looked down at his hard cock sliding in and out of my pussy. I could see how wet it was from my pussy. “Now watch it Jessica. Watch it as you tell me again how much you want this job.” He laughed a bit. I stared at Sam’s cock, watching it going in and out of my pussy. I could feel my own orgasm building; I began to moan, loudly. Sam told me he wanted to hear me again say I wanted the job.

I moaned loud, “I want it. I want it Sam.” He pulled me up and down on his cock even faster as I worked myself up and down his shaft as well. “Please Sam…please give me the job. Give it to me!” My orgasm was getting closer as I slid faster and faster on his cock. The whole situation was really turning me on, I never thought I could be this big of a horny, slutty woman and that deep down I loved it.

Then Sam glanced at the guys both of whom were staring at my big tits bouncing all around as I rode their bosses cock faster and faster. My shirt and suit jacket had now slipped down my shoulders a bit, my body was glistening with sweat.

“Dave, Thomas, why don’t you suck on Jessica’s tits. Give them a nice, thorough going over.”

The two of them didn’t waste as moment both of them grabbed my tits and immediately they began to suck on them. Thomas and Dave were going to town fondling my tits while the sucked on them, playing with my hard nipples too with their tongues. I was riding Sam's cock even faster; my own orgasm was building up very quickly. Sam began to groan, 'oh shit Jessica, ride my cock. Ride it faster.' My moaning became louder and louder. Soon I found myself moaning to the guys. 'Suck my tits, oh god yes suck on them. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop.' I was riding cock like I had never done to any other guy before.

I was arching my back, trying hard to keep my hands on his knees, keeping my rhythm as the guys sucked on my tits. Sam held on good to my hips helping to pound his hard cock into my wet and tightening pussy. I closed my eyes letting myself get flooded by the incredible pleasure the three men were giving to me. My breathing was very heavy and fast as my orgasm built. Sam must have sensed I was about to orgasm.

"Come on Jessica, ride my cock. Show me how much you want this job." I looked at him with glazed over eyes.

I was almost mewing like a kitten as I said, 'I want it Sam. I want it so bad." He grinned as I felt my orgasm just about to hit. I screamed out,

"OH GOD GUYS! I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum!"

They went wild sucking on my tits even harder, Sam ramming his cock into my pussy as best as he could, repeatedly. I heard him hiss, 'Oh fuck...her pussy is milking my cock! Fuck I'm gonna cum too!"

Then my orgasm hit me, such intense pleasure. I arched my back, thrusting out my stomach and tits as squealed louder than I ever have before. I could feel my pussy almost gushing, coating Sam's cock with my wetness as well as clamping down on his hard thrusting cock.

"OH FUCK! I'M CUMMING JESSICA!!!” Sam yelled out. Thomas and Dave stopped sucking on my tits long enough to give their encouragement to Sam. My eyes were still closed as I was lost in my intense pleasure and I was actually experiencing a multiple orgasm. In a blur, I heard the guys say, 'That's it cum inside her. Fuck her pussy. Give your cum.'

Then I could feel Sam's cock tense up before he groaned out 'Jessica, I'm cummmmmmmming' Dragging out the cumming part as I felt him release. I could feel his cock pumping each surge of cum into my pussy. I didn’t care; it made my orgasm that much better. The guys had to hold me on his lap as I was still wildly writhing around on his cock making us both orgasm. Part of me didn’t want this to end it was pleasurable. Quite quickly, I had drained Sam's cock of his load and my own intense delight was over. He and I were panting away like dogs, I was dripping with sweat, and my dress shirt was soaked with sweat as well.

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Posted by justrealgirls69 1 year ago  |  Categories: Anal, Group Sex, Hardcore  |  Views: 1769  |  
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Aunt Abby and the Artist (Part III)

Aunt Abby Makes Sex Fun... and Funny!

Here is Part III of my reality based fiction, 'Aunt Abby and the Artist', dedicated to my dear friend Abby Rhodes. Again, if you'd like to see the real Abby, here she is... her beauty makes the story even more enjoyable, and she approves of this message:

http://xhamster.com/user/AbbyRhodes

If you haven't read Part I and Part II yet, I suggest you do so. If you have, then on with the show... and there will be a final chapter, Part IV

'Aunt Abby and the Artist... Part III, Aunt Abby Makes Sex Fun and Funny'


When you first wake up in the morning, the mind can blur the lines between a dream and reality, and as David Connelly started to awake from an incredibly deep sl**p, he thought, “Wow, the sex dream I had about Aunt Abby seemed so real.” His mind was still telling him there was no way that something so wonderful could have actually happened, but as he wiped the sl**p from his eyes, and let them adjust to the bright sunlight streaming through the window, he saw how blissfully wrong he was.

As his eyes focused, he realized that he was in his aunt’s room. Then he looked over at the antique chaise in the corner and saw the red bra, matching thong, and red high heel shoes that he ‘dreamed’ she was wearing were thrown on top of it. And finally there was the fact that he was in her big, soft king-sized bed with the silky sheets… and he was naked.

“Holy shit… maybe it wasn’t a dream,” he thought to himself as he sat up. And as his head continued to clear, he ran his hand over his stomach to the light patch pubic hair above his penis, and felt that it was crusty and matted together with a combination of his own sperm and Abby’s pussy juice, and that was when he realized there was no dream, Davey Connelly had definitely had sex with his beautiful aunt!

Now he was fully awake, and the memories came flooding back… the kisses they had shared, the blowjob she had given him, how he had licked her pussy, and finally his hard cock entering her tight pussy for the very first time. It was all real, and very vivid, and as his mind ran through every detail, he instinctively wrapped his hand around his swelling penis.

Davey closed his eyes and replayed the previous day’s events like they were a movie in his head, and as he did he began absent-mindedly stroking his erect penis, but suddenly his concentration was broken when he heard his aunt’s voice say, “Well good morning sl**pyhead, I see you’re up… and I mean up!”

“What,” Davey asked, being totally caught off guard. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn’t even heard her come in, and as she stood in the doorway, wearing the long silk robe she had worn the day before, he followed her eyes down to his crotch and saw the blanket had fallen away and he was openly jerking his erection right in front of her. He quickly pulled the sheet over his crotch and said, “I’m sorry Aunt Abby… I didn’t hear you come in.”

Abby just smiled and said, “Davey, after yesterday I don’t think we need to be embarrassed about anything,” and once again she asked him, “And seriously, is that thing always hard?”

Davey just smiled, and thinking quickly he said, “When I’m around you, I guess it is.”

Abby laughed at his clever reply and said, “Well aren’t you the charmer.” Then she sat on the bed, and as she pulled the sheet down to expose his erection she said, “Why don’t we go have some breakfast and take a ride to the mall, and then just maybe we’ll come back and I’ll give him a nice little treat.”

“What kind of a treat,” her teenage nephew asked in mock sarcasm.

Instead of answering him, Abby lowered her head and took about half of his twitching organ into her mouth. Davey let out a loud groan as she unexpectedly sucked on his cock, but just as he felt the tightness of impending orgasm building at the base of his penis, she let him slip from her mouth, and with a wicked grin she said, “That kind of a treat.” Then she stood up and said, “Now go get a shower, and maybe I’ll finish what I started when we get home.”

Davey got up and headed towards the shower, and as he did his aunt watched in admiration as eight inches of hard, thick teenage cock bounced in front of him, causing her mouth and pussy to drool. It hadn’t been that long since he had been pounding that incredible tool in and out of her, and as she remembered it, she reached inside her robe and began stroking her pussy. For a moment, she thought about fingering herself to a quick orgasm, or even joining Davey in the shower, but she decided there would be plenty of time for that, and reluctantly stopped playing with her inflamed cunt.

Soon they were both showered and dressed… Davey in cargo shorts and a tee shirt with the iconic picture of Andy Warhol on the front of it, and Abby in a stylish top that showed a nice amount of cleavage, a light summer skirt that showed off her legs, and her trademark heels that made her ass look even more magnificent than it already was.

They enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at a local diner and chatted the entire time, but at no point did either of them mention what had happened the night before. They talked about art, music, f****y, and everything else under the sun. But even though they didn’t address it, both Abby and Davey had memories of the previous evening fresh in their minds, and the sexual tension that existed was palpable.

After breakfast they headed to the mall where Davey had spent a lot of his c***dhood before he and his f****y moved. His mom had dragged him there many times despite his protests, but now he was actually glad to be there with his gorgeous aunt. As they walked through the large atrium and took the escalator to the second level, Abby said, “I want to stop in this home store that I know you will just hate, but there is an art store right across from it that you can check out.”

“It’s okay Aunt Abby, I don’t mind going to the home store with you,” Davey said, not wanting to disappoint her.

“Trust me, you’ll hate it,” she replied, and then as she slipped him some money that he didn’t want to take, she winked at him and said, “And besides, for some reason you never got around to sketching me last night, so go get what you need.”

Davey just smiled and said, “Thanks,” and then watched her as she walked towards the home store… and while he couldn’t be certain, he could have sworn she was putting a little extra swing in her ample hips for his benefit as she walked away.

When she disappeared through the shop’s doorway, Davey went into the art store. He found what he needed, a new pad and a variety of pencils, and then headed to checkout. After he made his purchase, he walked out to wait for his aunt, and that was when he saw the three big, macho lunks leaning against the railing that overlooked the first floor of the atrium.

Even though it was summer, they were all wearing football shirts from a local high school he recognized from when he had lived there, and as he tried to inconspicuously walk past them, the obvious leader stepped in front of him and said, “Hey dudes, check out nerd-boy with his coloring book.”

The other two boys laughed as Davey moved to walk around him, but the leader moved into his path again and said, “So who are you supposed to be, dork… some kind of Mozart?”

Davey thought about pointing out to the mental midget that Mozart was a composer, not an artist, but instead he just kept his head down and tried to keep moving. But this time all three of the Neanderthals stepped in front of him, and just as he was deciding what his best course of action would be, he heard Abby’s voice say, “Is everything alright babe?”

When Davey looked up, he saw all three bullies staring at his gorgeous aunt. At first nobody said anything, and then the leader said, “Wow dork, I’m glad your big s****r came to your rescue, because she’s smokin’ hot.”

Abby had to admit she was a little flattered that the gorilla thought she was Davey’s s****r, but instead of expressing gratitude, she glared at him and said, “I’m not his s****r.”

That was when he said, “Holy shit dork… if she’s your mom, then she’s a serious MILF!”

The muscle heads began laughing until Abby walked over to Davey, and as she put her hand on his shoulder, she shook her head and said, “Boy you guys really are morons… I’m not his s****r, and I’m certainly not his mother… I’m just the woman that’s fucking him.” And then as the three macho bullies stopped laughing and watched in stunned silence, she kissed Davey deeply.

Abby made sure the three of them had a good view of her tongue going in Davey’s mouth, and then as she broke the kiss, she looked at the leader and said, “It’s like this pencil-dick, while jocks like you, Dumb and Dumber here are chasing airhead cheerleaders who just send you home to beat your own meat, artistic, sensitive guys like David are actually getting laid by women like me.”

The three boys who had tried intimidating Davey were now speechless, and that was when Abby decided to apply the coup de gras. As they watched, she reached down and cupped a handful of her nephew’s ample crotch, kissed him on the neck and loudly said, “C’mon Baby… lets finish shopping and get home… I need to get this monster inside of me.” Then as she looked at the three stunned jocks, she held up her hands about a foot apart and said, “It’s this fucking big… I swear to God!”

The once boisterous bullies stood in silence as Davey and Abby walked away, with his arm around her waist, and her head resting on his shoulder. Now she was definitely putting some extra hip action in her walk, just to show them what they were missing, and as they watched, she raised her hand, extended her middle finger and hollered, “Later assholes!”

Once they were out of sight and ear shot, Davey and Abby slipped into a department store, and the two of them broke out in hilarious laughter. Then Davey looked at her and whispered, “Thanks Aunt Abby… that was really cool.”

Abby just smiled and said, “Ahh, they deserved it, who do they think they are to make fun of you.” Then she checked to make sure nobody was looking before she grabbed a handful of his crotch again and said, “Besides, I just told the truth, I really do want to get home and get this monster inside of me.”

Davey was wondering how this day could possibly get any better, and that was when Abby got a mischievous grin on her face, grabbed his hand and said, “Come with me… lets have some fun.”

The teenager followed her as they walked to the women’s wear section of the store, and then into the intimate apparel department. Davey watched as Abby leafed through a rack of sheer sl**pwear before picking out a few very sexy negligees. Then she looked at him and whispered, “Just follow my lead,” and after giving him a smile and a wink she started walking towards the dressing rooms.

The upscale department stores had fitting room attendants to help guard against shoplifting, so when they reached their destination, a very proper, spinsterish looking woman of about 60 approached Abby and Davey and said, “May I help you?”

“Yes,” Abby said in a very pleasant tone, “I’d like to try these on,” holding the sexy lingerie up in front of Davey. The older woman gave her a less disapproving glare, but handed her a claim ticket and counted the items. Then she pointed Abby towards the fitting rooms.

Davey watched as his aunt started walking towards the enclosed changing booths, but then she suddenly stopped, turned to him and said, “Well aren’t you coming with me?”

Both Davey and the attendant were surprised at her request, but Abby just smiled at the prudish woman and said, “He’s my fashion consultant.”

This time a more direct glare of disapproval came over the attendants face as Abby and Davey walked back to the dressing room. She wasn’t sure of their relationship, but she did know that the attractive woman would probably need to strip to try on the sexy outfits, and the young man accompanying her would be right there to see it all.

Once inside the dressing room, Abby was like a giddy school girl, and had to suppress a laugh as she whispered, “Did you see the look on her face when I told you to come with me?”

Davey giggled and nodded, still not totally sure what was going on, but then he watched as his aunt pulled her shirt over her head and hung it on a hook before reaching behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it slide down her arms and exposing her magnificent breasts. And finally she unzipped her skirt and pushed it down over her full hips and round ass, showing that she wasn’t wearing panties.

The teenager couldn’t believe what was happening. His aunt had just stripped in front of him in a public place, and immediately he felt his penis starting to swell in his shorts. Then he looked over her shoulder and saw a full length mirror that gave him a perfect view of Abby’s ass, and he was amazed at how round it looked. But if Davey thought she had only taken off her clothes to try on the negligees, he found out how wrong he was when she lowered herself to her knees and began undoing his belt.

“What are you doing,” Davey whispered as Abby tugged his zipper down, and then unbuttoned his shorts… but instead of answering she just looked up at him and held her index finger to her lips, telling him to shush. Then after pulling his cargo shorts and boxers down in one motion, Abby leaned forward, and took his semi-hard cock in her mouth.

Davey slapped his hand over his mouth, only letting out a muffled “Mmmmppphh,” as his aunt started to expertly fellate him. Almost immediately his penis swelled to a full erection, and Abby began sucking him in earnest.

Abby wasn’t just performing oral sex on Davey… she was sucking his cock with a purpose. She had been horny all morning, and making a fool of the three jocks and then toying with the attendant had really gotten her pussy juices flowing. As her mouth and left hand worked their magic on Davey’s thick member, her right hand slipped between her legs and began rubbing her dripping cunt and swollen clit.

Another floor length mirror to his left gave Davey a perfect view of what his aunt was doing. He could clearly see her naked breasts heaving up and down, and her hand moving furiously between her legs. He could see she was rubbing her own pussy, and the thought of his beautiful aunt masturbating while sucking his dick was quickly pushing Davey towards orgasm… and that was exactly what Abby wanted.

As she sucked his cock, Abby pressed her middle finger deep in her sodden cunt… coating it with her juices before returning it to her hard pleasure button. Her hand was a blur as her slippery finger worked furiously on her clit… and at the same time her tongue began massaging the underside of Davey’s raging prick. She tried her best to open her throat and take as much of his enormous organ into her mouth, and that was when he whispered, “Aunt Abby… I’m gonna cum.”

Reluctantly Abby pulled her hand away from her cunt so she could use it to play with her nephew’s balls, while the other hand worked in unison with her talented mouth to bring him off. Just then she felt the muscles in his thighs tighten, and as he clamped his hand over his mouth to suppress a scream of ecstasy, his cock began flexing wildly… flooding her mouth with his thick cum.

“Mmmmmmm,” Abby moaned as his cock came alive between her lips, pumping gouts of warm semen into her mouth. She swallowed the first couple of blasts as the hand that had cradled her nephew’s balls disappeared back between her own legs. She was so overcome with the blatant sexuality of the moment that as soon as her finger stroked her clit again, her own orgasm erupted.

Abby’s muffled groan of pleasure reverberated around Davey’s spurting cock as aunt and nephew came together. Pussy juice poured from her convulsing cunt and covered her invading fingers as a powerful orgasm ripped through her groin. At the same time she could feel the contractions in Davey’s prick began to ease, and she took his twitching organ from her mouth and stroked the shaft, smearing the last dregs of his spunk drip onto her face.

As the final tremors in Abby’s pussy faded away, she fell back onto her pillowy ass and swallowed the rich, salty sperm that was in her mouth. Then she looked up at Davey, and he could see she still had pearls of his thick white liquid still clinging to her face. But instead of wiping it off, she smiled and pulled his pants up.

Once Davey was dressed, Abby put her clothes back on, and as she opened the dressing room door, Davey whispered, “Aunt Abby, on your face…” and as she looked back at him he motioned to his own face, telling her that she still had quite a bit of his sperm on her cheek and chin.

But instead of cleaning herself, his aunt flashed her mischievous grin and winked again, and then walked back to the clerk’s station. When they reached the counter, the older woman looked at Abby’s face, and her eyes almost bugged out of her head. Even if she was a prude, the old spinster knew exactly what was clinging to the younger woman’s face, and as she handed the lingerie back to her, Abby said, “Thanks for your help, but I think I’ll keep looking… these may have been a little too much for the young man.” Then she took Davey’s hand and they quickly walked out of the store… laughing as they did.

As they walked back into the mall area, with Davey’s semen still on Abby’s face, they saw the three bullies from earlier still standing by the railing. Davey thought they would walk around the other way, but he was surprised when his aunt grabbed his hand and began walking straight towards them. As the trio stood silently, still reeling from their earlier humiliation, Abby stopped a few feet away, and loud enough for them to hear, said, “Jeez honey, why didn’t you tell me I still have your cum on my face.”

The three jocks stared in shocked silence as she sc****d the remnants of Davey’s sperm from her cheek and chin, and then put her cum-coated fingers in her mouth. After licking them clean she took Davey by the hand again, and as they walked past the Three Stooges, Abby smiled and said, “I couldn’t wait so I gave him a blowjob in a dressing room… and now I’m taking him home to fuck his brains out.”

Abby and Davey walked hand in hand towards the exit, thinking the incident was done, but they were taken by surprise when they heard the leader holler, “Dude… you are the MAN!” And as they looked over their shoulders, his two sidekicks raised their hands over their heads and began bowing at the waist in the universal sign of ‘we are not worthy,’ while the leader began a rhythmic clap of respect for Davey.

Thanks to his beautiful aunt, the ‘artsy nerd’ had finally gained the respect and admiration of the popular crowd. And as the two of them turned and headed towards the door, with the loud clapping echoing throughout the atrium, Davey smiled and said, “Aunt Abby… this has been the best two days of my life.”

Abby just squeezed his hand and said, “And it isn’t over yet.”

Davey was on cloud nine for the rest of the day. He gleefully helped his beautiful aunt with all the chores she had for him to do, and never complained once… mainly because she was by his side all afternoon wearing a pair of shorts that showed off her incredible ass and a shirt that she tied off just under her magnificent tits, exposing her soft, flat tummy.

The teenager spent half the afternoon putting boxes in the attic, cleaning the yard and organizing the garage, and the other half ogling his barely-clothed aunt... and that was exactly what Abby had hoped for. She had purposely worn the revealing outfit to keep Davey enticed, because even though she had already sucked him off, she figured her provocative outfit would keep him excited for later… and judging by the constant bulge in the front of his shorts, she saw just how right she was.

Davey finished his last task late in the afternoon, and Abby could see his tee shirt soaked with sweat from the Texas heat, and his hands and face blotched with dirt. She told him that she was going to start dinner, and if he wanted he could use her large, walk-in shower to scrub away the day’s activities. He took one more long look at his beautiful aunt in her revealing outfit, and then headed down the hall towards her bedroom… and as he did could hear pots and pans rattling as she got ready to cook.

Davey adjusted the water temperature, and then peeled off his dirty clothes and got into the shower. The hot water felt great as it cascaded down over his body, soothing his skin and relaxing the muscles in his shoulders and back. Then he poured a generous amount of shampoo into his hand and began to massage it into his scalp… and that was when he heard the shower door open and then close.

Lather was pouring over his face, so he couldn’t open his eyes, but he soon felt arms wrap around his torso before pulling him back… and as he felt her large breasts press into his back, and her thick patch of pubic hair brush against his buttocks, he heard his Aunt Abby say, “I thought you might need a little help washing your back.”

Once again Davey’s teenage cock began to inflate as his gorgeous aunt began to soap his shoulders and back. He just tilted his head back and let the rest of the shampoo rinse from his hair, and the additional lather help Abby’s hands glide even more smoothly over his body. Davey let a soft groan slip from his lips as her hands ventured down to his small buttocks, soaping them thoroughly before letting her slippery fingers part his ass cheeks to scrub his tight little hole.

Abby’s hands hadn’t gotten anywhere near Davey’s penis yet, but it was already fully gorged with bl**d and sticking straight out from his body. The teenager couldn’t get over how amazing his aunt’s hands felt as they rubbed the fragrant soap over his body. Then he felt her hands and arms wrap around his waist again, only this time when he felt her breasts press against his back, she also wrapped her soapy hands around his raging erection.

“Oh God Aunt Abby,” Davey groaned as she began sliding her slick hands back and forth along the length of his swollen organ. She planted little kisses on the back of his soft, wet neck and she slowly jerked his cock with one slippery hand while the other dipped between his legs and began massaging his balls.

Even though he had used a soapy hand to jerk his own cock many times, this felt totally different. Abby was slowly manipulating his prick and balls with her soft hands, and that combined with the feel of her huge tits pressed into his back, and her tongue teasing his neck had the pressure already building at the base of his twitching cock. Abby sensed it too, and released him before he could cum… only to tell him, “Turn around and I’ll do your front.”

Davey turned around and was finally able to see his aunt. Her deep red hair was tied on top of her head, and her green eyes sparkled as she looked back at him. As his eyes scanned down, he was amazed at how incredible her wet body looked. The water glistened on her skin accented every curve and swell. Her tits looked so soft and creamy, and her nipples stood out like the erasers on a Number Two pencil. And beads of water clung to the thick patch of dark, curly pubic hair at the apex of her muscular thighs.

After giving Davey a good look at her body, Abby gently kissed him, and then she began soaping his hairless chest. Her hands felt incredible as they rubbed his skin. Then she used her thumbs to tease his hard little nipples before sliding her hands down to his stomach. The warm water was spraying onto his back and flowing over his shoulders, helping keep his skin smooth and slick, and as her hands neared his stiff cock, she lowered herself to her knees in front of him.

Davey’s body shivered as Abby’s hands wrapped around his hard shaft once again. This time she used the water rolling down the front of his body to rinse away any soap residue. As she did, Davey could see the shower spray striking her face, but once all the soap was gone, she leaned forward to use his body to block the spray… and then she opened her lips and sucked his bloated cock into her warm mouth.

“Oh Aunt Abby,” Davey groaned as his beautiful aunt began practicing the fine art of fellatio on his long, thick erection. This wasn’t the first time she had sucked his prick in the last two days, but Davey was certainly not getting bored with it. Each time she put his hard cock in her mouth, it was just as exciting as the first time. Maybe it was because blowjobs were still new to him, or the different circumstances and places she had done it, or the fact that it wasn’t just any girl, but his beautiful aunt using her mouth to give him pleasure… but for whatever the reason, each time she sucked him he immediately felt the pangs of an impending orgasm.

Abby could also sense that it wouldn’t take long for her nephew to begin blasting torrents of thick young cum in her mouth and down her throat, but as exciting and appealing as that was to her, she had something else in mind. So she reluctantly released Davey’s twitching cock from between her lips, causing him to moan in disappointment, and then she stood up and said, “How about washing my back?”

As Abby turned her back to her nephew, she could already feel her pussy melting into a pool of its own juices. Davey rubbed the expensive bath soap between his hands, and then began massaging the combination of soap and bath oil into his aunt’s shoulders. His hands easily glided over her flawless skin, and she let out a soft sigh as he massaged her shoulders and upper back, before sliding down to her sides and hips.

The puffy head of Davey’s swollen cock occasionally bumped into Abby’s hip like a ramrod as he soaped her lower back and sides, then as he pulled her closer to him, the length of his penis pressed between her fleshy ass cheeks, and his hands slid upwards and cupped both of her large, milky white breasts.

“Ohhhhh,” Abby groaned as Davey filled his hands with her ample tit flesh. He began slowly kneading the soft mounds as he hunched his hips forward, pushing the length of his cock upwards and capturing it between her ample ass cheeks. His slippery fingers began playing with her erect nipples as the hard shaft of his swollen prick glided over her puckered anus, causing tiny pangs of pleasure to emanate from the sensitive area, and the dull ache deep in her groin to intensify.

While a few men had used their fingers to play with the hidden jewel, and a few others, including Davey, had used their tongues to tease the tiny hole, she had never experienced anal sex. It wasn’t that Abby was turned off by it. On the contrary, she had always enjoyed having her tight, pink rosebud teased. But even though some may have considered the notion ridiculous, she had decided that if she did get married one day, and she hoped she would, then she would have something to give her husband that no other man ever had… her virgin asshole.

Both aunt and nephew could feel their passion rising, and that was when Davey lowered his hips and slipped his long, thick cock between Abby’s legs from behind. She trapped the pulsing rod between her thighs, and then groaned out loud as Davey began thrusting his hips back and forth, causing the top of his shaft to rub against her pussy lips, and press against her inflamed clit. As she looked down, she could actually see the swollen head of his huge penis pop out beneath her thick patch of lush pubic hair, before disappearing again as he pulled his hips back.

The grinding of her nephew’s hard shaft against her exposed clit had Abby racing to yet another orgasm, but she wanted more. So she bent at the waist and braced her left hand against the shower wall for support, and then she reached back between her spread legs, grasped his cock in her right hand and guided the spongy head to her dripping slit. Davey was like a dog in heat, and as soon as he felt the soft wetness of her pussy lips pressing against the sensitive head of his penis, he slammed his hips forward, and buried eight inches of hard cock in his aunt’s quivering cunt with one violent thrust.

“Agggghhhhh,” Abby screamed as Davey’s long, thick shaft split her cunt wide open. She hadn’t expected such a brutal assault on her womanhood, but her nephew was overcome with lust, and there was a sudden jolt of pain as her sensitive pussy lips were stretched wide, and her vagina was filled to capacity with young, hard cock. But the pain was only momentary, and was quickly replaced by indescribable pleasure as Davey grasped her fleshy hips and began fucking her from behind.

“Oh God Davey, yes… yes… yes…” Abby groaned over and over as her nephew, crazed by passion, began mercilessly pounding her pussy like a jackhammer. She was now using both hands to brace herself against the wall, not wanting her head to slam against the hard tile during Davey’s onslaught. In all her experiences, nobody had ever fucked her so hard or so deep, and even though she didn’t always have an orgasm from intercourse, she knew that wouldn’t be the case today… she was going to cum.

A hard clapping sound echoed off of the tile walls of the bathroom as Davey’s slender hips slapped against his aunt’s magnificent ass. The impact was so hard that he could see the fleshy cheeks ripple with each deep thrust. He had always been fascinated by Abby’s derriere, and she knew it, so as she looked back over her shoulder at him, she groaned, “Davey, you’ve always loved my ass, haven’t you?”

“Uh huh,” the teenager managed to grunt as he kept fucking his aunt… with the all too familiar tightness beginning to build just behind his testicles.

“You used to jerk yourself off while you watched me… didn’t you Davey,” Abby asked in a strained voice… finding it hard to speak while being hammered by her nephew’s huge cock.

All Davey could do was groan “Uh huh,” again, but Abby’s words were having the desired effect, because hearing his beautiful aunt saying such naughty things had him racing towards an orgasm.

Abby’s own orgasm was also getting ready to overtake her, and that was when she said, “Look at my ass Davey… look at my ass while you fuck my pussy.”

“Oh yessss,” Davey groaned as his hips began moving faster. His thrusts were getting deeper, and as he looked down, he could actually see between the fleshy cheeks to where his cock disappearing and reappearing over and over again from her tight, wet cunt. It was truly a dream come true… and the sight was more than a teenage boy could take.

Abby could also feel his thrusts getting more erratic, and knew he was close, and that was when she looked back over her shoulder and said, “Cum for me Davey… fill Aunt Abby’s pussy with your cum!”

Hearing his aunt utter words he only fantasized about her using pushed him to the brink, and as Davey somehow curled his hips under his Aunt’s ass cheeks, driving his cock past her cervix and even deeper into her cunt, he screamed, “AUNT ABBY… I’m CUMMMIIINNNGGGG!”

Davey’s cock began pulsing wildly, causing him to cry out as involuntary muscle contractions pumped jets of searing hot cum up from his balls, through his cock shaft, and into his aunt’s waiting pussy. Her vaginal walls was wrapped so tightly around his prick that she could actually feel it pulsing as he unloaded what felt like a gallon of semen deep inside her cunt.

Abby had also reached the point of no return, and as she screamed, “Harder Davey… fuck me HARDER,” he gripped her thick hips and continued pounding his still spurting cock in and out of her aching pussy. Then, as he buried himself deep inside her with one last hard thrust of his huge prick, she arched her back and came.

“Oh my fucking God… YESSSSSS,” Abby cried out as her pussy had a nuclear meltdown. Her screams of ecstasy echoed off of the tile walls as she came, and her vaginal muscles clamped onto Davey’s spurting shaft so tightly that they almost cut off the rich supply of thick semen he was pumping deep inside her. “Yes… fuck yes,” she groaned over and over as the intense feeling of release spread throughout her body. Each contraction in her pussy and asshole sent a new sensation rippling through her body, and she rode those waves of pleasure until Davey’s hips stopped moving, and the last of his spunk coated her insides.

Abby kept her hands on the wall, trying to keep from collapsing to the hard shower floor as the last waves of orgasm slowly washed over her. Davey’s orgasm had also faded, and as he looked down between her magnificent ass cheeks, he saw his softening penis slip from between her deep red cunt lips, covered by a mixture of syrupy pussy juice and thick white cum.

Davey started to turn himself towards the spray of what was mostly cold water now, getting ready to rinse the remnants of their love making from his still semi-hard cock, but before he could, Abby turned around and dropped to her knees. And then as he watched in amazement, she took his cum-covered prick into her mouth and sucked the gooey mixture of their juices from it.

“Mmmmm,” Abby moaned in satisfying approval as she sucked his cock clean. When she was finished, she leaned back, smacked her lips and said, “I love how good we tasted together.” Then she stood up and kissed her young nephew deeply, sharing what was on her tongue with him… and as some of their mixture coated his tongue, Davey had to admit she was right.

Aunt and nephew shared a long, deep kiss… so engrossed in what they were feeling for each other that they didn’t even notice how cold the water had gotten. Then as they broke their kiss, Davey looked deep into Abby’s eyes and saw sadness. But before he could ask what was wrong, she whispered, “You know tomorrow is our last full day together before you go home.”

Davey had been enjoying himself so much that he hadn’t even thought of that… but now that the realization set in, a lump formed in his throat. At the same time he could see tears filling his aunt’s beautiful eyes. But before they were both completely overcome by emotion, Abby hugged her nephew and whispered, “We’re going to make the very best of our last day… I have something very special planned for you.”

Then, even has tears rolled down her cheeks, Abby managed to smile and give Davey one of her trademark winks… and at that moment he knew their last day was going to be one he would never forget.

FIN

As always, this copyrighted story is property of the author. It is a work of fantasy, is protected by law, and meets all federal and state statutes involving written erotica. It also conforms to all legal restrictions on written erotica and the Byrne Convention. Any attempt to reproduce this story will be met with legal action.

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Posted by DizzyD427 1 year ago  |  Categories: First Time, Mature, Taboo  |  Views: 2730  |  
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The Rambler part 4

That was less than a mouthful, that's for sure.

It was little more than a week after we had pawed through the pictures that the bomb arrived in the mail in the form of a bill, forwarded from my mother's last address, for the next year's storage fee. The bill didn't state what was being stored, just the square footage and a rate per square foot for heated indoor storage space, and a total payable within 30 days or the contents would be seized and disposed for services rendered.

I called, but the attendant didn't know what was in the storage room. The room was was secured by the owner's lock which he couldn't open unless I had proof that the owner was indeed deceased and that I was the rightful owner according to the will. If I presented a notarized document to that effect, he would open the locker and allow me to remove the contents after paying a fee or continue to store it in a new contract in my name.

The next week, I drove up to the storage facility armed with the appropriate legal documents and a lot of curiosity. I wondered what could Mom have been storing so long - the attendant said the storage contract was the oldest one they had on file, almost 20 years he said. Why did she need to store things outside her home, in the next town no less?

With a profound sense of mystery, I eagerly peered under the rising metal door as the attendant lifted it with two hands and pushed it toward the roof where it rolled along the ceiling and bounced back and forth, handrope dangling wildly as the door bounced off the stop springs.

"A car!" the attendant exclaimed.

It was indeed a car ... under a fitted canvas cover.

The attendant stood back to let me by. I walked in, squeezing alongside the car to the far corner. There was nothing else in the room. I bent to lift the cover and the attendant rushed to help, thinking I wanted to remove the cover though I only meant to take a peek.

"I wonder how old it is?" the attendant said, lifting the canvas at the other end.

Together, we exposed the side and I followed as the attendant dragged the canvas over the roof toward the other side of the car. A lump had developed in my throat as soon as the red and black two-tone paint was revealed in the dim light.

"Wow, what kind of car is that?" the k** said. "Some kind of early Lincoln?"

"No," I replied, having difficulty speaking. "It's a 1959 Rambler American Contintental," I informed him, an old yet still familiar defensive tone creeping into my voice.

"A what?" the k** said.

"A Rambler," I muttered, dropping the canvas to the floor and walking over it to the driver's door.

I opened the car. It smelled very musty. I squeezed inside and sat behind the wheel, ignoring the attendant who was saying something. Dust rose up as my weight hit the seat and I looked around the car, then opened the glove box which was empty except for a sheaf of old and dry papers. Insurance papers for the last year the car was driven, 1975, some twenty-four years ago, about a year after Laura and I met and five years before we married.

I closed the glove box but kept the registration papers. Continuing my inspection, I noticed the car keys dangling from the ignition and removed them. Craning my neck over the seat, I confirmed the backseat was empty before extricating myself and walking out of the garage.

"You going to want to keep it here?" the attendant asked as I opened the trunk.

"I don't know yet. For a while anyway," I said.

"OK," he said, walking away. "Stop and let me know before you leave," he called over his shoulder.

"Uh huh," I acknowledged, moving back to lift the trunk.

Spare tire, a small tool box, an old blanket, a picnic basket and a couple of empty wine bottles. The last three items held oodles of memories for me.

* * * * * * *

I wondered what happened to Jeez, Dad. What an ugly car.

Now, it seems, Tom thought the car was 'cool', a great project for his automotive class at school. He and his friends could blow everyone away if they could recondition this 'relic' from the past.

"C'mon, honey. Let him do it," Laura piped in. "Your mom loved that car. Why would she have kept it all these years, in secret, if she didn't?"

"Yeah, Dad," Tom moved in for the kill. "It might even be worth big bucks. I mean, man, it's got to be rare."

"It'll bring back the magic of those days, too, sweetheart," Laura added, delivering the coup d'etat.

I felt cornered. Why was I resisting. It wouldn't cost much if Tom's instructor let him and his pals take it on as a project. I had already dealt with the flood of memories that had assaulted my brain as soon as I had turned up the corner of the canvas covering the Rambler. What was it? Something nagged me to say no but, against my better judgement, I agreed.

"OK. You can ask Mr. Martens, but it has to remain original. Gran wouldn't have wanted to see it all hopped up."

"Awesome," Tom jumped up in a mock cheer, right arm thrust agressively up, ending in a closed fist. Laura looked pleased and I knew it was because she believed this would motivate our son who was not exactly pleasing us with his attitude and performance at school. Maybe that's why I said yes.

* * * * * * *

The project was nearing its end. Tom and three of his friends from class, the 'Rambler' team were meeting in his room. Their meetings, originally held in our kitchen, had moved to his room about a month ago. Just before that, they adopted a curious habit of lowering their voices, stopping their conversation or changing topics whenever anyone else came near the kitchen.

At first, I thought they were talking about something else than the car, some girls or plans to get hold of some booze for the weekend, but eventually I realized they were keeping something secret about the car itself. I became suspicious that they were contravening my rule about not customizing the car.

Rather than go to the school to find out, which might embarrass Tom, I queried Laura whether she knew if Tom and his pals were up to something with the Rambler and was surprised by her response.

"I don't know. Why would you think I would know anything about it," Laura snapped.

I looked at my wife's back as she whirled away from me and pulled something out of one of the cupboards, though she had looked like she was leaving the kitchen when I came in and asked her what she knew about the Rambler and the boys' secretive behavior.

"I don't know," I answered, confused by the intensity of her response. Looking at her, now crouching in front of the lower cupboards that held pots and pans, I noticed her neck and the bit of her face that I could see from behind was rosy red. "I was just wondering."

"Well, I don't know anything about it," Laura snapped.

Bewildered, I backed out of the kitchen. Now, more than ever, I was determined to find out what was going on. I was convinced that Tom and his pals were hopping up the Rambler and that Laura knew about it and was afraid to say anything to me. I went to the school.

"Nope, it's completely stock. All original," Dennis Martens assured me. "Those boys are really into this car. They're here every spare class and after school until I kick them out. They've done a beautiful job, just look at it." He waved his hand at the Rambler, all shiny red and black in the far bay. I had to agree. It looked great, and original.

So what were those boys up to, and why had it upset Laura so much when I asked? Come to think about it, she had been acting kind of funny for the last while. On edge, like.

That was my excuse for searching my son's room. I'm not proud of it, or of the fact that I invaded my wife's privacy, by reading her diary when I came across it.

Tom, it seems, had found a set of diaries hidden in the Rambler, stuffed in the heater blower, easily accessed by a little metal door under the dash. A cold sweat enveloped me.

According to Laura's diary, Millie had had sexual relations with her son and she thought this might have something to do with why he was so different when he came back from Vietnam. It wasn't all the war, she had written. Thank god it was Milie's diary he'd found and not Mom's.

I read on, working back from the middle and then springing ahead, but I'll give it to you from the beginning, from Laura's first relevant entry.

I found a little black book in Tom's room today. It was a diary belonging to Gran's friend, Millie. It was sad, really, because it was mostly about Millie's thoughts about her son Tim. Tim had been Rick's best friend in school. He left for Vietnam before Rick and I met and though he came back twice, I never met him. Sadly, almost every entry was about Tim. Millie must have missed him so much, I thought, but I was shocked toward the end of the little book to find out how much.

Evidently, Tim had started making advances toward his mother. The improper kind. Millie was quite concerned about it, at first sure she was just imaginging it, but realized it wasn't her imagination when her son touched her one morning, innapropriately patting her bottom several times in the kitchen while she was making breakfast. Her husband was right there, sitting at the table, yet after the last pat, Tim let his hand rest on top of her buttock for several seconds, as if daring his father to look.

Millie was beside herself for several days. She hadn't said anything at the first touch because she was so shocked she wasn't sure it had happened. The second time, she just didn't know what to do and the next two times, she was afraid to say anything lest her husband hurt her son. She convinced herself she would give Tim a talking to once they were alone but the last time, when he'd let his hand linger, she was sure Tim thought she was OK with it. All that afternoon, she fretted that she had mistakenly encouraged her son. She vascillated between feelings of incrimination and guilt, the latter because the whole episode had been fraught with danger, and yes, Millie was surprised and loathe to admit, excitement.

Millie didn't get a chance to talk with her son that night and the next day the whole scene was replayed again, but this time, Tim found more opportunities to let his hand rest on his mother's ass. Again, Millie was afraid to move in case she called her husband's attention to what was going on. Unfortunately, her submissiveness encouraged Tim. He stood beside her, blocking her husband's view, put his arm around her and took the full weight of her breast in his hand, squeezing her for many seconds while she did absolutely nothing to stop him. A few minutes later, he did it again, and then sat down at the table as if nothing untoward had happened. Millie confessed in her diary that it was a couple of minutes before she could follow because she could hardly walk, having just leaned against the sink in the throes of a small orgasm.

This nonsense - Millie's words - carried on for several days. Tim was careful not to be alone with his mom, clearly wanting to avoid a confrontation with her. Friday night after supper, Millie insisted that Tim help her with the dishes instead of joining his dad in the living room.

She told her son she wanted to talk. I know, he had replied. Come to the drive-in with me and we can talk all night. At first, Millie was uncertain but then she realized that at the drive-in, she could have things out with her son without fear of interruption, so she agreed. As soon as she did, Tim's hands slipped under her arms and each grabbed a breast, and a very firm boner lodged itself between her cheeks, clearly felt even through the thickness of her pleated skirt.

He whispered in her ear, "We'll get it all settled tomorrow night."

Millie was so shocked, she just set her hands on the bottom of the sink to brace herself against his thrusts as he ground his stiffness against her backside, massaging her tits until he suddenly shuddered, gasped into the hollow of her neck, and stumbled out of the kitchen.

Millie hung her head in shame as another orgasm shimmered through her groin, its warmth spreading as she twisted her legs tightly together, not to squash it, but to wrest every thrilling tingle from it she could. She was more shocked at herself, she wrote, than her son. His teenaged behavior she understood. Her's, she didn't.

I heard Tom coming home so I left, leaving the little book exactly where it was. I would confront him about it later, I thought, but first, I wanted to read more.

* * * * * * *

I couldn't find the little book the next day, though I searched Tom's room thoroughly. That night, after we had all gone to bed, I quietly got up and went to my son's room. He was surprised to see me and even more surprised by what I had to say. He pleaded ignorance but fessed up when I threatened to tell his father about the diary which could only have come from the old car.

He had found them behind a small metal door stuffed in the heater vent under the dash.

"Them?" I asked. Yes. Evidently there was a stack of them in there. "I want to see it."

Tom got up and retrieved the little book from his school backpack. "The others?" Still in the car at school. He brought it to me where I sat on the edge of his bed. I began to read.

Tom sat next to me on the edge, reading along. I ignored him and quickly became immersed again in Millie's story. What had happened during their talk?

They had gone to the drive-in but not alone as Millie had expected. Evidently, Tim had manipulated his friend Rick into talking his mother into coming too. How he'd done this, Millie didn't know. She was angry at first because she couldn't talk but then she got swept up in the excitement of going to a drive-in, like the old days. She could talk with Tim after the show, she reasoned, when they were back in their own car.

It wasn't long after the show started, she wrote, that Tim snuggled close, arguing that they would look like dorks if the other k**s could see them sitting way apart. She didn't remember letting her son kiss her, she just remembers his lips on her and that it felt nice, so she let it continue, thinking a little kissing couldn't do any harm. Anyway, in the darkness, nobody could see and, as in the kitchen that week, she didn't want to call attentin to what was happening.

That was a big mistake she wrote. She drifted with the feeling of his lips on hers, which got better and better. It was quite a while before she realized why. Tim's hand was under her skirt, way up, rubbing her panties. She was wet, soaking!

She started to struggle but Tim whispered frantically in her ear, "Shhhhhh. Don't make a fuss or Rick's mom will know."

In her muddled mind, his logic made sense. Afterward, thinking about the confined space of the car, Millie knew that Mary must already have known. Still, she relaxed and let Tim have his way with her. Soon, despite herself, she was pushing up against his hand, rubbing herself on him even harder. Before she knew it, her son had inserted himself between her legs, loosened his jeans and pushed them down, though his shorts were still on. He replaced his hand with his hard boner, a nice one she thought to herself shamelessly, as he pushed and shoved against her soaked panties.

Rather than pushing her son away, Millie opened her legs and threw her arms around him and held him tight, loosing her hold only when he needed room to get his hands under her sweater, pushing her bra roughly off her breasts and taking a tit into each hand. She didn't even mind how roughly he mauled her tits. In fact, she wrote, she loved it and began bucking against her son as wildly as he was. Twice more that night, in the car, she and her son rubbed themselves to mutual orgasms, each session lasting longer than the last.

Millie wrote in graphic detail, probably because she wanted to record the depth of her feelings at the time so if she questioned herself later she would have a basis to understand what she had done. I know I found it hard to believe that the really nice lady I had known was capable of i****t, but I had seen the diary with my own eyes, and I could feel the intensity of her emotions through her words.

I was surprised to find that Tom was leaning in very close to me, his arm stretched behind, and his right hand was resting on my leg above my knee, his fingers just poking into the crease created by the pinch of my thighs where they pressed together. We were both breathing faster than normal. I know I was excited reading this, so I figured a teenager must be too. I was acutely aware that I was wearing just a nightgown with nothing on underneath, something Tom could easily see by simply looking down to where I held the book a few inches in front of my chest. Tom, having already been in bed when I came in, was sitting in his underwear and nothing else. I was well aware of that, too.

I knew I had to leave but I wanted so much to read more. Tom's hand pressed down on my leg, restraining me, when I started to get up. I looked at him, apprehensively, afraid of what might happen next.

"The book," he said.

I said I would bring it back but he argued that my room wasn't a safe place, not with Dad there. I said OK but said I wanted to read more. Tom nodded and agreed to bring the book home so I could read more the next night.



That first entry had been written in April. Laura had known about this for almost two months!

I can't stop thinking about Millie and her son Tim. They would have been about the same ages as Tom and I. I just can't imagine it. I have to admit that I caught myself looking at my son differently in the days that followed. I gave my head a good shake but I found my eyes following him again a couple of times, and I was regarding him as a handsome young man. Maybe that's normal for mothers, I thought, just before their sons are about to leave home to start their own life.

I snuck into Tom's room today to read more of Millie's diary but I couldn't find it. * * * * * * *

That night, Tom brought the second book home. At midnight, I slipped out of bed and crept quietly down the hall to my son's room. Tom sat up in bed and made room for me beside him. This book was even more graphic. Millie described in detail several encounters with her son in their own home. Evidently, she had decided not to further her i****tous relationship after that bout in the car but was struggling against strong urges for the next few weeks. She couldn't help letting her son touch and rub against her and, in the end, she let him take her while her husband was sitting in the next room! I just couldn't believe it. Millie had had intercourse with her son!

At first, I felt very uncomfortable reading this with Tom sitting next to me in his underwear but I had became so engrossed in Millie's story I actually forgot he was there. I was almost shocked when I realized he was still sitting next to me on the bed, reading about Millie and Tim fucking, and became flustered for a few minutes. He was very excited. I could see his erection poking up in his underwear and his swollen balls below.

Why hadn't I worn a robe? The longer, almost knee-length, slip-like nightgown I was wearing had pulled halfway up my thighs when I had crossed and uncrossed my legs. I tried to get Tom to let me take the the book to read on my own the next day but he refused, ignoring my argument that we were both getting too little sl**p. The book, he said, had to stay in his room. So I leaned back against his pillows to get more comfortable and started reading again.

I had only read four more pages when I realized I was holding the diary with one hand, even flipping pages single handedly. My other hand had strayed down to rest on my belly. Tom was lying on his side, bracing himself on his elbow next to me. My filmy nightgown had parted slightly on my chest, widening the slice of visible skin between my breasts but still leaving them properly covered as did the skirt of my gown, though it had fallen almost to my hips when I raised my knees so I could rest the diary against my bare legs. My breasts, however, couldn't hide their excitement, poking against the flimsy material of the nightgown, but there wasn't much I could do about that, and I wasn't ready to quit reading, not yet. This diary was the hottest thing I'd ever read.

Strange, but I didn't think of Millie as a bad person. She clearly loved her son, and her husband, too. But the incredible excitement she felt when she was with her son shone through her writing and I can understand how she couldn't stop herself. She was at a loss how to explain it herself. A church-going woman, she found it very difficult to resolve and then simply gave up.

The descriptions of the sex in their home would make any woman envious. They did it everywhere: in the basement, the kitchen, and even her son's bed when her husband was home; on the stairs, the living room floor, bent over the dining room table (in those days?) and her own bed when they were alone in the house.

When I finally finished reading, my hand had slipped lower and I was almost cupping myself, my fingers resting not so lazily across the top of my panties. I didn't need to see my nipples poking through my gown to know I was very ready for sex. Shocked, I got up very abruptly and left, yet I turned to toss the book flilppantly back to my son.

"Get another one for tomorrow night," I half whispered.

* * * * * * *

Tom didn't bring the next diary, claiming he forgot. I was distraught but he was calm and suggested I read my favorite parts from the first two books out loud, suggesting it would help him remember to bring the next one. I don't know what he was up to but I didn't want to go back to bed without another serving of Millie soup, so I agreed.

Tom handed me the diaries as I settled on his bed, mentioning that he liked the nightgown I was wearing and was glad I hadn't worn a robe. I snapped that I had left my robe because I didn't want to wake his dad but that wasn't quite true and I had no excuse, even to myself, for putting on one of my sexier nightgowns. I had a fleeting feeling of being a little like Millie.

So I found myself whispering to my son as I lay beside him, reading the part where Millie let Tim inside her from behind while washing the dishes, with her husband watching TV in the living room. This saved Tom from having to read himself and I understood the roots of his demand as I felt his eyes roaming over my body. It's difficult to describe how nervous I was, how fluttery my skin felt. I had a hard time not touching myself and felt strangely glad about the nightdress I had chosen, with its see-through bodice. I knew my son could see my breasts and nipples in all their gory detail. Reading aloud was vastly more exciting and, as much as I didn't want to sense them, reading to my son sent amplified my feelings so high I felt I could shatter.

It was when I re-read the part where Tim first began patting Millie's ass that I felt the first brush of Tom's fingers on the back of my right thigh. I wasn't sure at first, just as Millie had been uncertain. But when he did it again there was no doubt. Still, I didn't object. Why not? My husband wasn't sitting in the room, ready to explode, as in Millie's case.

There it was again. A stroke this time, not a brush. He won't bring the rest of the diaries, I rationalized, if I make a big fuss. He's just tickling my leg, making it feel nice. There's nothing wrong with that.

The strokes grew longer, traveling further, all the way up to the underside of my knee and then slowly down, sometimes in the center and other times outside but later, more often, down the soft inside, coming close but always swerving aside before colliding with my panties. The sparkle of my son's touch reached as far as my toes and spread through my groin. I was ready again and it wasn't just from reading.

I closed the book with a snap. "Time for bed," I said.

Tom implored me to stay a while longer.

"Why?" I asked.

"Could I kiss you?"

"What?"

"Just to see what it feels like. They seemed to like kissing a lot."

It was too far. Tom, seeing my confusion, said, "Just a little one. I promise I'll bring the next book tomorrow."

I relented, holding still and even pushing my lips up as Tom lowered his face to mine. He gave me a little peck, then another, and another. Relieved, I laughed, releasing my nervousness, but when I did, his lips pressed firmly down on mine. We had a real kiss. A nice one. When it was finished, Tom asked, "Just one more?"

I nodded, and we kissed again. The same way but right at the end, Tom let the very tip of his tongue push between my lips, barely inside my mouth, swiveled it from side to side and quickly pulled away.



You can imagine how I felt at this point, can't you. My wife and my son. How could she do this to me?

Tom surprised me by coming home from school at lunch today. My anger about him skipping classes dissipated when he held up two new diaries, one for this afternoon, he said, and one for tonight. I followed him as he walked upstairs, waving them beside his head, and joined him when he sat on the edge of his bed. Tom held the books away. Try as I might, I couldn't reach them, so I gave up.

"I can wait as long as you can," I sulked, not even convincing myself.

"You can't see them until you put on your reading clothes," he said.

"My nightdgown? Tom. I can't put that on in the middle of the day. What if Dad came home?"

"Why would he. It's the middle of the day?"

I made a grab for the diaries, a response to his logic not forthcoming, but he easily held them away.

"All right," I said. "Give me a minute."

I walked away knowing it was wrong for him to ask this of me and even more wrong for me to comply, but I was surprised that I wasn't mad. I even gave my hips a little extra sway as I left his room. For some reason I can't explain, I felt strangely excited and even pleased that he was making a game of our afternoon reading session. Somehow, it made it less sordid.

I was standing in front of my dresser mirror when Tom knocked on my door and poked his head inside.

"You're taking too long," he complained.

I could see in the mirror that he was pleased. I was wearing a deep green nightgown, knee-length but cut too deep in the back to be ordinary sl**ping attire. This one was designed for entertainment, not sl**ping. I felt a tinge of wicknedness for wearing it. I hadn't worn it for years and was pleased it still fit so well.

"I thought we'd read in here," I explained. "It's more comfortable than your bed."

Tom came in and walked up behind me in his own 'sl**ping/reading' clothes. He had taken his shirt and pants off and was wearing only his underwear. He headed for my bed but I stopped him.

"Please undo my necklace for me," I asked, lowering my head and holding my hair to one side to expose my neck, stretching it to make it look long and slim. Why was I teasing my son this way? Because it makes me feel alive, I answered myself.

Tom had a difficult time getting the necklace undone but he finally managed it. I could hear him smelling my hair and neck. I knew he wanted to press against me, like Tim had done to Millie, but he restrained himself. He wasn't so cocky now and I enjoyed putting him in his place.

I turned and padded in my bare feet toward the bed, glancing in the mirror as I passed, mischievously pleased to see the effect I'd had on him. I leaned over in exaggerated fashion to fluff and stack the pillows before settling back into them, holding my hand out for one of the diaries. Tom handed me one and settled in beside me as I opened it and, unasked, began to read aloud.

It was a fantastic story. Millie described how she prepared herself all day to be with her son: soaking in the tub for hours to soften her skin, shaving her private parts, scenting herself, going shopping for sexy underwear with lacy tops, plunging necklines, and panties that barely covered but separated her cheeks. She seemed to revel in recounting every little detail. She described a long kitchen scene in which Tim had come home from school, like Tom had today, and taken her against the door of the fridge. It was very intense and exciting and I imagined myself in her place being thrust hard against an appliance my husband had bought for me.

That thought returned my attention to my son. I don't know how long I had been riveted on Millie's story but I barely noticed when Tom began stroking my thigh, like he had last night. But today he was allowing his hand to stretch out on the downstroke so the back of his fingers could caress the inside of my other thigh. I found, with a little shock, that he was no longer swerving to avoid my panties. Instead, he let his knuckles drag between my legs, skittering over my panties down to my bottom before swooping in a long arc up my leg to start over again.

I was wet. I glanced down at my chest to confirm what I already knew: my nipples were poking shamelessly through my nightgown.

Tom's fingers glided down my inner thigh and sc****d across my panties before starting another ascent. Shameless, I read on. That night, Tim snuck into his mother's room and, while her husband slept, pulled her from her bed, taped her mouth and fucked her standing up right in their room. Millie described how she soaked for hours in the tub the next day, reminiscing and playing with herself as she recalled stretching her hands to the floor to brace herself as her son rocked her from behind.

At some point during that story, Tom had pulled my nightgown off one shoulder, baring my right tit. The skin was incrediby tight over my breast and it was perking up prouder than it had for fifteen years. My nipples were aching and I scolded myself for letting my breast be exposed like this. There was no excuse for going this far, yet when Tom tugged the loose sleeve down my arm, I let go of the diary to let him slide it off my hand.

I started reading again but had barely read three sentences when Tom's head lowered to take my sore nipple into his mouth. I sucked in my breath and lifted my arms to make room for his head so I could keep reading. Tim had skipped classes again and was ramming it into his mother, holding her legs so far back her knees were on the mattress. Millie described this in such detail, I could feel it nudging at my own door.

No. It was Tom. The page blanked before my eyes. My nipple was sucked deep into his mouth but his fingers were no longer sliding up and down my thighs. His palm was pressing against my bottom but his fingertips were on my panties and they had worked their way into my secret crevice. They moved so gently, as if they didn't want to call attention to themselves, to get caught. Oh, so delicately they pressed.

If I don't react, I remember thinking, I can pretend I don't know. I'll stop in a minute. It felt so nice. Oh, god. He was worming his finger around so good. How did he know to do it that way?

I read more, soaking in encounter after encounter, until I butted up against some pages stuck together. No, not stuck. Taped. I banged the book down on Tom's head and showed him the taped pages when he reluctantly pulled his mouth off my tit with an audible, sucking smack.

As he looked at me, groggily, I didn't recriminate him for sucking my breasts or invading the sanctity of my panties. Instead, my eyes pleaded, begging him to remove the tape. I needed to read more. I wasn't just super curious, I was horny as hell. As I looked at my son, he sat up and moved his hand, between my legs like before but now all the way, snug against my mound, cupping his fingers in a firm massaging grip, moving as if trying to squeeze water out of a wet tennis ball.

I should have been outraged, I should have smacked him, but I didn't even look down. I wanted to read more and my eyes must have told the story because Tom kept massaging my panties, pressing his thumb which stretched across the top and curling his fingers to cup my pussy.

Tom nodded at the tape and, with this approval, I removed it and began reading again. I felt my panties sliding up my thighs within seconds, to my knees and over, down my calves. Absently, I lifted my feet so my son could slip my panties over my toes.

I can't say I didn't feel Tom slowly run the tips of his finger along the sole of my foot and then drag his nail up the center of my calf, do a little circle around the back of my knee, and then creep with agonizing slowness down my inner thigh to return to where my panties had been. They paused there for a moment before beginning the first, tentative exploration of their new, unprotected claim. The tiniest little touches, flicks and rubs. For my own sanity, I pushed my nose back into the diary.

I was in the middle of an intense fuck in the Rambler at a drive-in movie when Tom slipped his fingers inside me. Strangely, I felt like part of the story when my son's fingers first pushed into my slit, then slid forward, pushing past my lips and into my wet pinkness. It's just part of the story, I thought, when I felt his knuckles widening my opening.

I offered no resistance when Tom urged my legs wider and his fingers began moving steadily in and out of my pussy. I actually opened my legs more and began twisting my hips to meet his i****tuous hand, reading the story, becoming the story. I don't know how long I let Tom finger me. I know I came, at least once, but I didn't return to the real world until I finished the book and then I knew why Tom had taped it shut.

Millie described it so well, looking over Tim's shoulders while he squirted the last dregs of his spend inside her, watching Rick almost falling over the seat as his hips hunched into his mother's face. This affected Millie deeply; she made a special note in her diary, in capital letters: 'I WANT TO BE MARKED TOO.'

Rick had had sex with his mother? In the Rambler? Was that why she wouldn't let him take me out in it? Why she'd kept it all these years?

I dropped the book. I was barely aware of Tom, pulling my legs wide apart and thrusting his stiff undershorts against my soaking pussy hair, vigorously dry-humping me. Well, not so dry. Within a minute I realized his cock was sticking out of his waistband, just before it began spraying his frothy cum all over his stomach and mine as he groaned his way to his first orgasm on his own mother. Rick got his mother's face, Tom got his mother's belly.

This has to stop before it's too late, I thought, as I sc****d a palmful of Tom's spunk off my tits.



Thank god, Laura had come to her senses before real harm had been done. A fingering. I could live with that. I had no choice. But not I knew that Laura knew about me and Mom. That's why she's been so difficult the past couple of months. If I'd cum on my own mother, then who else wouldn't I try to have sex with? She must be wondering about that. I turned the page, looking for the next entry, to see if she had forgiven me in her mind. There wasn't any more entries, not yet.

I couldn't sl**p. That's my excuse. Lying awake, staring at the dark ceiling and listening to Rick snore, I couldn't get Millie's reference to Rick and his mother out of my mind. That sweet old lady that had looked after her grandson so many times, might have fucked her own son. Had she really, or was it just that one time, a blowjob?

I pointedly didn't think about the afternoon, and Tom, but I convinced myself that I needed to get that next book. I needed to read it tomorrow, to find out. I would demand that Tom give it to me tonight.

Cautiously, I snuck out of bed, easily getting to the door and out without so much as a peep or interrupted snort from my husband. Yes, I admitted. I could have easily slipped on my robe. Without so much as a shrug, I stepped through the door and padded confidently down the carpeted hallway in the darkness.

There was a crack of light showing underneath Tom's door. I opened it and he looked up from reading the diary, smiling, as if he knew I'd come.

"Hi Mom."

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, then stepped toward my son, my hand held out.

"Give it to me," I demanded.

"No," Tom smiled, closing the book and pushing the hand that held it under the covers.

"I mean it. I'm not playing around, Tom."

"I am."

"I want to read it, by myself, tomorrow."

"No way, Mom."

"Yes."

I kneeled on the side of Tom's bed and tried to get my hand under the covers, succeeding easily but several minutes of struggling proved that I wouldn't be able to pry the book from Tom's grip. Flushed and panting from my efforts, I twisted around and sat on Tom's bed. Tom sat up and began fluffing his pillows, setting them vertically against the headboard before leaning back, sitting up, watching me. I ignored him, concentrating on catching my breath, wondering how I could get the book away from him. Tom pulled up on his covers, trying to pull them open but couldn't because I was sitting on them.

"C'mon Mom. Let's read a little tonight," my son said, his voice pacifying.

I shook my head.

"C'mon Mom. You know you want to. I'll let you read the rest tomorrow by yourself if you do."

Tom tugged on the covers and, after a moment, I lifted my weight, allowing him to pull them back. I twisted my back toward him, lifting my feet onto his bed and slipping them beneath his covers.

"Just for a few minutes?"

"Yeah," Tom replied.

"You won't get carried away like this afternoon?" I asked for his self-control, privately doubting my own.

"No way," Tom replied, handing the book to me.

I opened the book and, as I sucked up the first two sentences, Tom's hands pinched my neck, a gentle massaging assurance, then caressed my shoulder and outer arms, pushing the ribbon straps of my nightgown off my shoulders, then down and over my elbows.

"No funny business, Tom," I said, leaning back into the pillows.

"I know," my son acknowledged as I settled into the book, not missing a word as I passed the book from one hand to the other, facilitating his removal of my arms from the straps of my nightgown.

I was deep into the next part of Millie's story but I still felt the rustle and then a thrill as my son tugged the loose front of my nightgown down and away, freeing my breasts. They were already taut, nipples hard, trembling before his gaze. I lifted the book higher, the better for him to see. I turned the page and began reading Millie's description of her conversation with Rick's mom as she twisted around in the Rambler to talk while her son obviously fingered her from behind.

Tom's hand closed over my left tit and squeezed my nipple, released it for a moment, rolled it between his fingers, then tugged it upward, lifting my breast from my chest. He let it fall, then started rolling, squeezing and tugging. I was about to say something when Tom's mouth enveloped my right nipple and sucked it long and hard. I decided to keep reading. I'd already let him do this before. What harm could it do? I let my hand caress the back of his head, my fingers toying with his hair as I concentrated on what Millie had to say.

He fucked her! He fucked her! He took her from behind.

Oh god. Tom's fingers were on me again. Shit! When had he done that? My panties were halfway up my thighs, my legs as open as the stretched panties would allow. Oh god, that felt so good. His fingers were fluttering all around my pussy and dipping, unexpectedly, just a little bit in. Fuck. He was so good at teasing me. There. Now. The little dip. Yesss. Ohhhh and up my slit, opening me, letting my wetness seep out. Oh, yeah. Fluttering, fluttering, dip, slide up my slit, now ... OMG, oh fuck.

Tom had suddeny plunged two fingers deep inside me, right into my pink hole, then shook them like a little vibrator.

"Shhhhh, Mom."

I must have moaned out loud. His fingers pulled out, made a quick circle around my soaked puss, then pushed inside, deep, the thickness of his hand pressing against my pubes, shaking. Ohhhh, jeez.

My panties were at my knees. He must be pulling them off with his other hand. I wasn't reading. My eyes were closed. My legs were pulled back, probably in reaction to his first deep insertion. I couldn't let him take my panties off. They were sliding down my calves, already at my feet. I can't, I can't let him. They were scr****g over my toes. I lifted my feet, stretching my toes in futile resistance, trying to hook the waistband of my panties. They were off. I couldn't stop him.

Immediately, my legs opened wide, very wide. I don't know if Tom pulled them apart or I let them fall but I know I reached out to clasp my knees, holding my legs lewdly back, wide open.

"Tom," I murmured.

"I'll let you take the book," he whispered, his lips pinching the tender inside of my thigh, his fingers already making my lower lips scream again.

"Promise?"

"Yes."

God. His thumb was inside me, his fingers stretching down toward my bottom. What was he doing? His mouth was here. He's ... he's ... licking me. OH GOD. Oh god. Oh god. Don't stop. Wigglling thumb. Tongue. Tongue. Tongue. Magic. Lick me. Lick me. Right there. Oh yes, right there. Suck it. Yeah, suck it. Yeah, licking, I know, licking, suck it again. What's your finger doing? Poking me there. Why?. Oh, yeah ... that's it, suck it, suck it, like a little cock, that's it, suck it, suck my woman cock, yeah, ok, your finger, if that's what you want, just keep sucking, yeah, yeah, yeah, baby, yeah, baby, suck, I'm cumming, cumming, cumming, ohhhhhhhhh, gooooodddd!

Jeez, my hips were humping, humping his face, so hard, ... there, again, ohhhhh, goooood, yeah, humping, fucking my son's face, buck, buck.

Finally, nirvana. Relax. Relaxed. I looked down. Tom's head still between my legs, his thumb inside me, his finger ... in my ass. God, that's so weird. No one has ever done that. He's wiggling it. It's so weird. So different. He's licking again, sucking. No, I'm done. ... Where's that from? That tingle, surging, yess, yess, spiking, yess, ohhhhhh, yeah, wiggle, suck, wiggle suck wiggle, suck, ohhhhhh, ohhhhh, ohhhhh.

Now, finally, RELAXED.

Tom. Climbing over me. NO. I closed my legs, clamping tight. I can't, you must understand, son. He's still climbing, straddling my thighs, my stomach, over my chest. Oh, god, he's naked. His cock is pointing right at me, he's holding it, jacking it, leaning forward, no, Tom, I can't, I can't, mmmphhhhhh, no, Tom, mmmmmphhhhhhh, ok, mppphhhh, ok, slow, mppphhhhh, give me a chance, mmmmphhhh, mmmmphhhh, mmmmphhhhh, jeez, in my mouth, c'mon, not my nose, shit, it's in my hair, how am I going clean that before going back to bed, gurrgle, gurgle, I can't hold any more, Ok, on my face, that's it, empty it, mark me, mark me, mark me.

* * * * * * *

The next day I rushed around getting all my chores done so I could reserve the afternoon for reading Millie's diary and nothing else, in my room, alone. I had a bath first, thinking about it, then settled in on my bed wearing my big white, fluffy, terry cloth bathrobe with only my scented body within. Not long after I began reading, my wicked right finger, the long one, crept under my robe to ruffle my pubic hair. But not for long. Soon it was exploring my sensitive nub, dipping lower to retrieve a little natural lubrication to spread around, in tiny, loving circles.

Millie detailed several encounters with her son. She and Tim were fucking like rabbits now, every chance they could get. Millie had long since passed any semblance of reluctance but she did play it up, though briefly, just to tease her son. She confessed that teasing Tim was the most erotic foreplay she had ever experienced and couldn't help wearing the pleated skirts he seemed to like so much. She found many opportunties to open her legs while they were all sitting in the f****y room to let her son see her naked but nicely trimmed and scented pussy, tripping on the potential danger inherent in a simple twist of her husband's neck. She thrived on the shock on Tim's face and the visibly growing lump in his pants, especially when she lifted both legs from the couch, stretching her legs and curling her toes, perfectly matched with a seductive smile, and sometimes a blown kiss. By the time she snuck out of her room, she had to scurry down to the basement with Tim hard on her heels. He was so worked up the first fuck was inevitably hard and noisy.

Sexy as Mille's record was, I found my mind straying to Tom. I kept wondering if he wanted me as much as that, if he would stay as interested if I actually let him, not that I could ever bring myself to do it. But look what you've done already, Laura, I f***ed myself to face the facts. You let Tom kiss you down there, put his finger in your dirty place, got him so worked up he came on you. Had I secretly been wanting that ever since I read Millie's description of Rick doing it to his Mom?

I dropped the book beside me, opened my robe and legs wide and used both hands to pleasure myself. My eyes closed, I imagined Tom skipping classes, coming home and finding me like this, legs wide open, hot and wet, loving myself. Wide open. Yeah. My finger moved faster while the other rubbed harder. How would he fuck me? I knew he would. There wouldn't be any choice, not with his libido driving him. He'd have to and I wouldn't be able to stop him. I'd have to let him take me.

I orgasmed soon after that. Tom didn't skip school and he didn't come home. I was both pleased and disappointed. I was properly dressed when Tim and then his father came home. I put the diary under Tom's pillow with a thank you note saying I had finished it, that it had been a special time sharing its secrets but now it was over, our own secret to be cherished for the rest of our lives.

"So you finished it," Rick said as soon as he came in.

I blanched, bl**d draining from my face as I turned to look at my husband. How did he know? I tried to wipe the guilt from my eyes as I faced him, but he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at Tom, both of them with huge grins on their faces.

"When?" Rick asked.

"This afternoon," Tom replied. "Do you want to take it for a spin after supper?"

"Let's go now," Rick replied, excited. He turned to me, "Is that OK, Laura?"

"Sure, sure," I said, shooing them off.

So they went for a ride. They were gone over an hour. When they returned, Rick insisted that Tom take me for a drive the next day to show me what I had missed. Tom was more than pleased, assuring his father that me definitely intended to show me what I had been missing.



So now we're up to date. I had begged off joining my son and wife on the Saturday drive. There things I needed to do.

What ludicrous words I had uttered last night, before I found Laura's diary this morning, and the note with Millie's diary she'd left under Tom's pillow. Now I was waiting for their return. They were gone all day and I couldn't read their faces when they came home. If anything, they acted more normal than they had for the past few weeks. Well, we'd see about that. All I had to do was wait for Laura's next entry in her diary. Probably Sunday or maybe Monday after I had gone to work and Tom to school.

Tom had told me he only had the car for a week and then he had to let the other members of the team use it for a week each so it wouldn't be back for at least three weeks after this one. I figured if something was going to happen, it had to be this week.

It was a lovely day for a drive. I was apprehensive about being alone with Tom in the car where it had all happened for his father but thought the confrontation may be necessary for to find closure, for both of us. I made a nice picnic lunch, including a bottle of merlot to take the edge off, should it be needed. What the hell, I thought, I threw in an extra, just in case.

Tom was the perfect gentleman, taking us for a long drive. I wondered if it was the same place he'd taken his Dad because it would certainly have been memory lane for him, in the country outside his old home town. Tom pulled off onto a windy country lane that climbed a small knoll and curled around to the far side, out of sight of the main road. He pulled off of that in the grass and pointed the Rambler toward the valley below us, a small quaint farm in the distance. It was very picturesque.

I started to get out so we could have our picnic on the knoll behind us but Tom suggested we stay in the car and enjoy the view without the bugs. So we did. As we ate and drank our wine - from plastic beaker, such class - I waited for Tom's plea to revisit our new relationship. I girded myself, resolving to stand fast, but the assault never came. We finished our sandwiches and fruit, and then the bottle of wine. Tom pulled the second bottle out of the basket. Against my better judgement, I let him open it after he promised we would stay put for a couple of hours at least to enjoy the splendid scenery. How often did we get to spend a relaxing afternoon in such a beautiful place, he asked?

I was very relaxed, even a little tipsy, when Tom made his move. He lowered the back of his seat and urged me to do the same, so we could have a little nap and let the effects of the wine melt away. I declined, saying I was quite comfortable the way I was but after a few minutes, I found it awkward sitting upright while Tom reclined next to me, so I relented and set my seat back to his level, lying almost flat. The back of the Rambler's front seat reclined all the way until it was resting on top of the back seat, creating a makeshift bed that was almost but not quite flat. Expecting Tom to make a move, I braced myself for the inevitable confrontation.

"Not sl**py?" Tom asked.

"No," I replied quickly, nerves to jumpy, not enjoying the prospect of a fight with my son. I wished it hadn't been such a nice day. It was too warm to wear a coat, so here I was wearing a sleeveless summer dress and sandals with nothing underneath but bra and panties. At least my dress was modestly cut in front, showing the tops of my breasts but that's all, and the loose skirt fell almost to my knees. Actually, I looked like a mom.

"Want to read a little, then?" Tom asked.

That caught me off guard. "Read?"

"Yeah. I have one of the diaries with me."

A tingle raced down my spine and dissipated slowly through my pelvis.

"I don't think so, Tom. I've read Millie's stories. I wouldn't mind reading them again one day, but by myself."

Tom took a long sip of his wine, craning his head up to avoid spilling. "Suit yourself," he said.

Minutes passed until my curiosity finally got the better of me.

"Do you have one I haven't read?"

"Of Millie's? No you read all of them."

"I didn't quite finish it," I said.

"I'll give it back to you, if you want."

"Ok."

Tom craned his neck and finished his wine, tossing the empty beaker behind him. Clasping his fingers behind his head, he sighed, sounding very relaxed.

I was perplexed. My son wasn't going to cause a scene, taking the news about the end of our special relationship calmly, as if he was already resigned to it, or more accurately, that he wasn't bothered by it.

I felt a weird twinge, one I hadn't felt since I was a young teenager during my first year of dating. It felt like I wasn't the one calling it quits, and I didn't like that. I knew I was, but he should be upset, and he wasn't. He's a libidinous teenager, I reasoned, recovering my pride, he must be faking it.

"Tom?"

"I don't have that one with me," Tom said, assuming I was asking about Millie's diary, but I had already forgotten about the diary. Had he not found it under his pillow with the note?

"Didn't you get it with my note?" I asked, suddenly nervous again.

"Yes, I got them," Tom answered. "They're still there."

"Then?" I said, inquisitively, providing the opportunity for him to let loose, to tell me how much he wanted to go further, and for me to deny him, for our own good and that of our f****y. I braced myself for the emotional onslaught I knew would now be forthcoming.

"I thought you'd like to see one of the new ones, so I brought one along," Tom's new information floored me. It was like an unexploded bomb had landed, sizzling between us.

"One of the new ones?"

"Yeah. One of Gran's."

KABOOM!

"One of Gran's?"

"Yeah," Tom turned on his side to face me, lying closer. "Do you want to read it?"

There was a long pause. "Yes," I said breathlessly.

"Turn around then," Tom instructed.

My whole body was tingling. Feeling suddenly meek, I turned around onto my side, facing away from my son. I could hear him fumbling behind me.

"Close your eyes," he said.

As soon as I did, his his passed over me and rested on mine.

Tom didn't say anything, so I opened my eyes to find a small red diary, red like my own instead of black like Millie's.

"Read it," Tom suggested.

I opened the book and began reading, to myself, flipping through entry after entry of mundane stuff until I encountered Mary's misgivings about her son's sudden interest in her, similar to those felt by Millie about Tim. Her misgivings were followed many entries later by a subtle shift in attitude, to one where Mary was piqued by Rick's interest, even flattered.

Considering her son's lust to be a temporary phase, Mary confided that she couldn't help having some fun while it lasted and began engaging in actions she knew would heighten the experience for both of them. She wore clothing she knew would catch her son's attention, walked and sat in ways that would emphasize her legs, and wore soft sweaters that would capture Rick's eyes. The more she play acted, the more she scolded herself, and the more she played the more she enjoyed the feel of Rick's eyes on her body. She became addicted to her son's lustful attention.

And then, Rick said Tim's mom had suggested they go to the drive-in with their sons. Bull as it turned out, but neither Mary nor Millie knew that.

As I read about the first 'date' from Mary's perspective, Tom removed my sandals. I had tucked my legs back on the seat.

"You shouldn't put your shoes on the seat," he admonished me, slipping my sandals from my feet. He didn't explain why his hands needed to stay on my legs, brushing up and down, his fingers scratching along my calves, nor did he offer any reason why his upper hand eventually slipped around my knee and under my dress, caressing the top of my left thigh.

Mary was describing what transpired at home between the first and second drive-in excursions when Tom pulled me closer to him. His leg hand was now caressing the top of my thigh from knee to hip under my dress. Stop him, a little voice whispered in my head. Tom's other hand was tickling my neck, so platonic, so nice. It wasn't until I finished Mary's description of Rick's manipulation under her skirt as the lay on her stomach talking to Millie that I realized that my dress was unzipped and the back of my bra unsnapped. How could I be so focused not to feel myself being undressed?

His fingers finally dug inside my panties, Mary wrote. I was lost again. Dimly, I was aware of Tom pushing my dress up and over my hips, shoving my left hip forward, tipping me onto my stomach. I accommodated his efforts, my sole concern keeping the diary where I could read it easily.

Tom moved in close; he was reading over my shoulder. Mary's description of Rick's surprisingly masterful manipulation of her secret lips was making me very wet. I felt Tom's fingers behind me, scr****g up my inner thighs until they were rubbing underneath my panties, in the damp part between my pussy and my ass. When had I opened my legs to beckon him so blatantly? I knew I had. He rubbed with more and more friction as I read until, suddenly, there was none. His fingers had slipped through the leg, inside my panties. His other hand slid under my dress, outside my lower leg and up my waist, curling around to my tummy and then up to palm my right tit, flattened against the seat. My stiff nipple was firmly grasped between Tom's fingers, squeezing hard. I bit my lip as my son's lips began nibbling my neck.

Put your fingers in me, Mary wrote. The thought echoed in my mind. Put your fingers in me, son. As if he could read my mind, Tom's fingers slipped inside me again. Mary's description of the way Rick fingered her was matched exactly by my own son's invasion of my cunt. He was reading along with me; we were playing roles: Rick and Mary, Tom and Laura. I opened my legs wider, welcoming his fingers, knowing the squishing sound was implicit in Mary's writing. I was lost.

Tom's hand was moving aggressively inside me, pulling out and banging in with a twist. I loved it, as I did the fingers roughly squeezing my tit. It was as if he was fucking me with a big stick, trying to get more and more inside me. Suddenly, he pulled out and grabbed my panties, pulling my hips up, then dragging my panties down over my thighs to my knees. I stayed up, shamelessly presenting my backside with wide open legs, my pussy literally dripping.

I moaned out loud as soon as I heard Tom unbuckling his belt and groaned when his jeans were shoved roughly over his hips. I twisted my head, leaning on my forehead to look under myself, instantly mesmerized by my son's dangling weapon positioning itself behind me. Am I really going to do this? Mary did, she gave herself to her son. Why shouldn't I?

I was still pondering when Tom's cock pushed into my slit. I was watching all along but I guess you can see something and not think about it at the same time, so it surprised me. Now he was through my slit, spreading me. God, he felt so good. It wasn't that he was bigger than Rick, though we may well be, it was the tensile strengh his youthful pole vibrated into my clasping muscle, singing I'm here and I love it. It sang so vibrantly, passionately bursting forth and just as arduously withdrawing, pausing for the chorus to chime in, then thundering through the hall again.

I struggled to help him fit me perfectly like I'd never done before. I had never put such effort into being fucked. Sweat poured down my face, over my forehead into my hair and onto the seat. I dug my toes into the floor to push my ass wantonly up to meet my son, begging him to drill me down to the seat, grind me with exhuberance, and pull back for another onslaught, my trembling ass cheeks following him up to ready my hole for the next attack.

He filled my pussy with his spend, and then some. It overflowed, dripping down my legs. Exhausted, Tom collapsed on the seat, sweating as profusely as I.

I'm proud to say that it was me, and all my years of exercise, that recovered first. Tom was still gasping for breath, his still cock wavering in the air above his lap, when I straddled him and lowered myself, enveloping his manly member, my cuntlips struggling to sc**** down his tired shaft. I felt like my tonsils had been given a tickle when our pubic hair mingled. He was definitely a little bigger than his father. I began fucking him, lifting and letting myself fall with a bang, pulling his head to my tits, shoving my long nipple into his mouth, grinding his face on my chest. Nipple to nipple, again and again, over and over, until his semen seeped into me again, the excess once more spilling down the inside of my legs. He certainly manufactured a lot of cream.

By the time Tom felt ready for another one, it was too late in the day. He tried to convince me, telling me that later in the diary, Gran described an afternoon right here in this spot, that is, the hill behind us, when Tim and Rick had fucked their mothers from behind as they lay over the removed backseat of the Rambler.

"Another time," I told him. "You can't do it all in one day."

Tom smiled, "But it has to be this week. I have to give the car to the other guys for a week each. That was the deal for their help."

"Just the car, right?" I asked.

"And the diaries too. They saw them."

I started to argue but Tom stopped me, "Only the ones about Millie and Tim, not the ones that mention Dad."

I was satisfied. It wasn't until we were on the way home that the implication dawned on me.

"Your friends are going to try to do their moms, aren't they? That's what you've been whispering about for weeks."

Tom turned to me and smiled wickedly, "Yes."

I nodded, digesting this delicious information. I knew all these women, had known them for years.

"Will you tell me everything you find out?" I grinned at my son.

"Of course," he grinned back, dropping his hand from the wheel to grip me firmly between my legs. "Then you can write it down and read it while we ... fuck."

I pulled my son's hand tighter against my reviving pussy, "Don't talk like that."

Despite my protest, his talk made me tingle again. He slipped his finger inside me, wiggling as he drove and talked, whispering to me how he thought his friends would approach the seduction and capture of their moms, my friends. I came again on the long drive home.

But it was such a long drive. I stretched out for a nap, my head lying in my son's lap. In the darkness, I unzipped his jeans and pulled his healthy young cock into my mouth, bobbing and weaving, he loved it all, even when I sc****d my teeth down his shaft. Perhaps he loved that most of all because as soon as I did it he burst inside my mouth, rocketing the last of his jiz into my throat.

I lay quietly the rest of the way while Tom caressed my neck and shoulders. I thought about how Tim and Millie had fucked like rabbits, everywhere they could. I wondered if it would it be like that for us now.



I was angry reading Laura's diary the following week but when I finished, my cock was in my hand and I was masturbating. I too wanted to hear about what happened with the other moms. Even through my anger, I realized a certain balance to it all. Anyway, how could I confront them without bringing it all out into the open. None of us wanted that.... Continue»
Posted by rgough 1 month ago  |  Categories: Taboo  |  Views: 1620  |  
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Wild Call of the Moose - Part 6

Being on a moose hunt with my dad and his friends was a really awesome time for me. Like the slut that I am, I fucked everybody on the trip, including my own father. I drank multiple shots of straight semen and took multiple shots of cum in the pussy, ass and my mouth. The boys got a moose and I got every¬thing I could want and more. I was so enjoying my sl**p, when all of a sudden I was being summoned from my slumber by a familiar voice. It was Jeremy.

“Talina, Talina, wake up,” he kept saying over and over.
I finally woke up and was startled to see that I was no longer in a tent, sl**ping with my dad, but I was in some dark cold place and appeared to be alone, though I couldn’t tell.

“Jeremy? What’s going on?” I said. “Why is it so dark in here?”

“The lights are off,” Jeremy replied.

“Well turn them on,” I said.

“The power is off,” he responded, “otherwise I just might do that.”

“Why is the power off in our condo?” I asked.

“We’re not at your condo Talina,” Jeremy responded.

“What are you talking about Jeremy?” I asked.

“I brought you and your little friend back to my place,” he said.

“In Furrville?” I asked. “What the hell is going on?”

“No, we’re not in Furrville either,” he said. “I took you somewhere else.”

“Where?” I asked, “And why?”

“Where is not important and why I will tell you soon,” he replied.

“Jeremy, you need to tell me what the fuck is going on right now,” I said. “Where have you taken me and where is Kari?”

“She is with your father, in the other room,” he said.

“My father is here?” I exclaimed. “Let me see him now.”

“You will see him soon enough,” he replied, “Right now you need to just rest.”

“I don’t want to rest asshole! Let me see my fucking dad now!” I screamed in his face.

“Talina, you really need to not be worried about them right now and just rest until I come back and wake you up.”

“I’m not tired,” I said, even though I really was exhausted.

“Just rest,” he said, as he held a rag over my mouth and I feel back asl**p instantly. The next thing I knew, I was dreaming of the day that Kari and I had met. I remembered every detail of that day, at least in my dream, things seemed really vivid.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Jeremy had my father tied up, with his hands in front. My dad was working the ropes to get them loose, but without much success. Laying next to my dad, on a bed, was Kari and some other girl that was not related to us in any way.

Kari was out cold and she must have received a higher do¬sage of the knock-out d**gs than I had, because she was show¬ing no signs of waking up. My dad checked her pulse and the pulse of the other girl and they both were breathing, so at least no one was hurt at this point. All of a sudden, the voice of Jeremy came over some kind of loudspeaker and said, “Mr. Jameson, you are here to pay for your sins against god and your crimes against humanity. You are an i****tuous father and you had sex not only with your daughter Talina, but my s****r as well, and for this you will pay.”

“What do you want from me?” Randall Jameson yelled.

“I want you to repay your debt,” the voice of Jeremy spoke again.

“Just how am I supposed to do that,” Randall replied.

“There is a girl on the bed next to you. I want you to have sex with her,” the voice of Jeremy responded.

“What kind of sick joke is this Jeremy?” said Mr. Jameson.

“Oh, it’s no joke sir and you will do what I say or I will hurt Talina,” said Jeremy.

“You better not hurt a hair on her head or I will kill you!” yelled Mr. Jameson. “I am not k**ding Jeremy!”

“I will be giving the orders around here, so get busy or else,” said Jeremy over the loudspeaker.

Mr. Jameson wasn’t perfect, but he was a good father and loved his daughter more than anything. He was not in the mood for sex and especially not being f***ed into it by some sicko like Jeremy.

“You won’t get away with this Jeremy,” Mr. Jameson yelled.

Randall Jameson was not looking forward to something that brought him more pleasure than almost anything, but he knew that Talina’s safety was in his hands and who knew what Jeremy would do if he didn’t comply with his demands. Randall got up and got on the bed where Kari was laying. There was another girl in the room, who was also tied up and she was starting to move as if she was waking up. She must have had something over her mouth, because her whimpering was barely recognizable.

Randall had his hands tied in front of him, but he could still use his hands somewhat. He used his hands to remove the girl’s underwear. She made no sound and didn’t move at all when he did this. He didn’t know about Kari and had no idea that she was Talina’s new roommate from college. He reluctantly got his fingers wet and began to rub Kari’s little snatch. She still didn’t move or make a peep. Mr. Jameson unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down. With Kari lying on her stomach, he entered her from behind and slowly slid his over-sized cock in and out of her tight little pussy. Kari was unresponsive to his every thrust. Mr. Jameson turned Kari over on her back and put his cock back in her moistened hole. She started to squirm a little, as he pushed his bone deep inside that young hot hole. He finally couldn’t stand it and he began to shoot his cum all up inside of Kari. As he came, Kari began to wake up from her d**g-induced stupor.

“What the heel is going on?” said Kari as she gained conscious-ness. “Are you Talina’s ex-boyfriend or something?”

“No,” said Mr. Jameson, “I am actually Talina’s father Randall. Jeremy d**gged us and brought us here against our will and f***ed me to have sex with you and said if I didn’t do it that he would hurt Talina.”

“Is she okay,” asked Kari. “Where is she right now?”

“She must be in one of these other rooms somewhere,” he said.

“Where are we?” asked Kari. “We’re not at the condo anymore?”

“No hun, he took us somewhere else, but I don’t know where yet,” replied a very tired and frustrated Randall Jameson.

“Shut the hell up you two,” came the voice over the speaker. “You’re not through yet. You still have more sex crimes to pay for Mr. Jameson,” said the obviously disturbed Jeremy.

“What is he talking about, `sex crimes’?” asked Kari.

“Well, when Talina was younger her and I had consensual sex and somehow Jeremy found out about it and he thinks that I have crimes to pay for,” explained Randall.

“You guys had sex?” asked Kari.

“Yes,” replied Randall.

“Well, don’t get mad,” said Kari, “but Talina already told me all about it and she is totally fine with it.”

“Really?” said Randall, who was very concerned at this point.

“Yes,” she responded, “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I’m not,” said Mr. Jameson, “but apparently Jeremy is…”

“I didn’t really like that guy when I met him,” said Kari. “I thought it was kinda creepy the way he followed us home, after Talina told him not to.”

“When was this?” asked Randall.

“The night he stayed over and we had wine,” said Kari.

“Roofies,” he said.

“Excuse me Mr. Jameson?” replied Kari.

“Rufilin,” he said. “That’s what Talina gave me one time and she got it from Jeremy. I knew that guy was bad news.

“Oh my god!” exclaimed Kari. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m not sure right now,” said Randall. “There is someone else in here.”

“Is it Talina?” asked Kari.

“No,” he replied, “but I’m pretty sure that she is here too.”

“Why is Jeremy doing this?” Kari asked. “What is wrong with him?’

“He is obviously very sick,” replied Randall, as he scanned the room to see if he could see anything. The light from the moon was coming through a window that had bars on it. Randall Jameson was an ex Navy Seal and if anyone could get out of here, he could.

All of a sudden, Jeremy came over the loudspeaker and said, “There is another girl in the room with you. Pick her up and put her on the bed.”
Randall didn’t want anyone to get hurt, so he obeyed Jeremy’s orders and went and grabbed the girl up and laid her on the bed.

“Pull off her pants and put her face down and butt up, then I want you to eat her ass,” said Jeremy.

Once again, Randall complied with Jeremy’s request and pulled down her pants and began to eat hear asshole. She squirmed, but almost in pleasure and Mr. Jameson couldn’t tell whether she was trying to fight or was just ticklish.

“Very nice,” said Jeremy over the loudspeaker.

While Randall ate her ass, Kari removed the gag over her mouth, so that she could breath.

“Thank you,” she said. “Jeremy is a freak. He gets off on this shit.”

“Try and be quiet,” Randall said to the girl. “He can probably hear us.”

“Okay,” she responded. “I like what you are doing, I just wish it was under different circumstances.”

“Thanks,” he said, “Jeremy said he would hurt my daughter if I didn’t.”

“I understand,” she said. “Is this your daughter here?”

“No,” he said, “this is one of her girlfriends.

Just then Kari whispered in the girl’s ear, “My name is Kari. I am Mr.
Jameson’s daughter’s roommate.”

The girl replied, “Mr. Jameson?”

Kari said, “He has his tongue in your ass.”

“Oh, duh…” she said, as Kari stroked her head and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Mr. Jameson, what you are doing feels really good,” said the girl. “Please fuck me, okay?”

“Are you sure,” he responded.

“Yes, she said and please call me Martina.

“Okay Martina,” he said. “I’m Randall and this is Kari and my daughter Talina is around here somewhere.”

“Talina, as in Jeremy’s ex?” she replied.

“Yes,” he said, do know her?”

“No, but I have heard Jeremy obsess over her a lot,” she said.

“We’re stuck here no matter what,” said Martina, “so we might as well make the best of it.”

“You are right,” said Randall, “Did you still want me inside you?”

“Yes, of course,” she said in an excited tone.

“Will you please kiss me, while he fucks me?” she asked Kari.
Okay,” said Kari. “If it will make you feel better.”

Randall Jameson already had his trousers down and climbed on to the bed and mounted the young girl, with his giant schlong. She liked it, as he slowly thrust in and out. She kissed Kari passion¬ately as she got the fucking of her life.

“That feels so fucking good, oh my god!” she said as he pushed it in deeper each time. “You fuck so good!”

“Thank you,” he said, “I just wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

“It’s okay,” said Kari softly, “Just play along until Mr. Jameson finds a way out of here for us.”

“Hmmmm, I just don’t want this to end,” she said.
Randall Jameson fucked the crap out of Martina, until they came together in an orgasmic fury. As Randall got off her, Kari quickly repositioned herself behind the girl, so that she could eat her pussy and taste Randall’s cum. It was pouring out of the girl’s vagina like a faucet left open and Kari did not miss a drop of it. Suddenly, Jeremy’s evil voice came over the loudspeaker and said, “That is enough for now. We will film more after dinner.”

They had no idea of how long they had been there or what time it was, only that the sun was going down and it was getting dark. The windows were all covered in steel bars and had been sprayed black from the outside, because very little light came through. What was he talking about `filming’ more? Was he filming all of this somehow? With night-vision cameras or something and where exactly where they and what were Jeremy’s plans for them? About a half hour later, there was a rattling at the door and three food trays were slid onto the floor and the door closed quickly. A voice came from the other side saying, “Eat now or starve, it’s up to you.” Randall got up and retrieved the trays and brought them to the girls, who were now dressed and sitting on the bed.

“Here you go,” he said. “Hopefully it isn’t dog food or some-thing.”

“No,” said Kari, “it smells really good! I think Talina made it.”

“I think you’re right,” said Randall, “This is one of her special-ties.”

“It’s really good,” said Martina, “She is a good cook.”

“Yeah, she got that from her mom,” said Randall. “I need to find a way out of here, that’s all I know.”

After dinner, Randall began to snoop around. From what he could see, they were in the basement of some rural building. There were a few closets, but only one way in and one way out. All of the windows had thick bars on them and the windows were small and almost to the ceiling, so that would be difficult.

Randall found a flashlight in the bottom drawer of a cab-inet. The batteries weren’t brand new, but it provided him with enough light, to find a few key things. He found a small toolkit, two old TV sets, a radio of some sort and some wire. He gath-ered it together and hid it under one of the beds. There were three beds in this, what appeared to be the dining hall of a church. There were religious things everywhere and folding tables stacked against the wall. As Randall searched with the flashlight, he found a small hole in the wall that looked like it was where Jeremy was filming them from. He found another one just like it in the ceil¬ing above the bed. There also appeared to be several small micro¬phones mounted in the wall as well. Randall looked around some more and found a roll of black duct tape. There was also a small nightstand next to one of the beds that was filled with condoms and lube and a couple of vibrators. It looks like Jeremy had this all planned out for some time. What a sicko, he thought. Just then there was a rustling at the door and as the door opened, Talina was pushed through the door, to the ground. The door then slammed behind her and locked.

“Babygirl! Are you okay?” asked Mr. Jameson.

“Yeah Daddy, I’m fine,” said Talina.

“Who is here with you?” she asked, but before she could get the words out,

Kari had sprung to her feet and wrapped her arms around her so fast, it almost scared her.

“Oh, it’s you sweetheart… I was so worried about you,” said Talina. “And I have been really worried about you too dad, sending me cryptic text messages.”

“Jeremy took my phone from me when he k**napped me, which was the day after you left for school,” said Randall.

“Who else is here?” asked Talina in a frantic voice.

“Oh, Talina, this is Martina,” said Kari.

“Martina Garrison?” asked Talina.

“Yes,” spoke up Martina.

“That’s the girl that Jeremy cheated on me with and that’s why we ended up ultimately breaking up,” explained Talina.

“I am so sorry Talina, I really am. I have been for a long time, ever since I found out that Jeremy did actually have a girlfriend and that he had cheated on you,” she said. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad Martina. It’s not your fault anyway, so let’s just be friends, okay?” asked Talina.

“Okay,” Martina agreed and the two girls hugged.

Martina was beautiful and she knew it. She didn’t abuse her beauty to use it for cheap gain, but was a true sexpot and an amazing lover for being such a young girl. She was all of 19-years old and Randall Jameson was pushing 45, but there was a mutual attraction. Kari was the only one that he hadn’t fucked yet.

“He’s gonna make us all have sex while he films it you know,” said Martina.

“He’s sick,” said Kari. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing for now,” said Talina, “but I’m sure we will come up with some plan, at least my dad will for sure.”

“Did he already make you guys have sex?” asked Talina.

“Yeah, he made your dad fuck me while I kissed Kari,” spoke Martina.

“Was it fun?” asked Talina to Kari.

“It was weird, cause I felt like I wasn’t being loyal to you,” said Kari.

“When you are being held hostage in the basement of Jeremy’s Uncle’s church, then you do what you have to do,” said Talina.

“So we are in a church,” said Randall to the group.

“Yep, he let me out of my room to cook dinner in the kitchen,” said Talina. “There is no power but the gas is on and he has candles and lanterns everywhere.”

“This is scary,” said Kari to Talina.

“It’s okay, honey,” Talina said to Kari, “My dad is here and he will make sure that Jeremy doesn’t do anything worse than make us have sex together.”

“Yeah, while he films it,” said Martina, ‘That’s fucked up!”

“I like having sex,” said Marina, “and I would have sex with all of you at the same time, if I was doing it because I wanted to and not because Jeremy was making us.”

“You mean you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable having a 4-way right here in the basement of the church?” asked Randall.

“Daddy,” said Talina, “That’s not going to get us out of here.”

“I know that babygirl,” he said, “but if I implement my plan, there is a way that I could cut Jeremy off from filming us and we could just barricade the door and have a free-for-all!!!”

“Then what?” asked Talina. “How do we get out of here?”

“We will worry about that tomorrow when it is light outside,” said Randall, to the girls. “This will really piss him off, if we have sex and he can’t watch or listen.”

“He’s listening to us?” said Kari.
Just then, Jeremy spoke up over the loudspeaker and said, “Everyone get undressed and get ready to film the next scene.” “You have 15-minutes and then it’s show time,” he said.

Talina spoke up and asked her dad, “What now?”

“First, we cut off his ears,” said Randall, as he poked a long screwdriver into the holes in the wall and the ceiling. He could hear a crunching sound, as he twisted the screwdriver around in the holes, covering them with the black duct tape when he was finished reaming the holes.

“That should be all the microphones,” said Randall, “Now let’s cut off his eyeballs, he said, as he covered the hole in the wall and ceiling with the black duct tape.

“Now comes the fun part,” said Randall in a rascal tone, as he pulled that back covers off the TV sets.

“Talina, come hold the flashlight,” he said in a huff.

“Oh dad, I found some batteries when I was in the kitchen and I put them in my pocket,” said Talina.

“Give them to me,” said Randal to his beautiful daughter.

“Here you go,” she said as she pulled them from her pocket.

Randall put them in the flashlight and soon, it was growing brighter than ever.

“Sweet!” said Talina. “What now dad?”

“Hold the light right here,” he said, “and don’t move and don’t touch any of these things on the back of this set.”

“No problem,” she responded. “Do your thing MacGyver.”

Randall snickered, as he used the screwdriver to remove the fly-back transformer from the back of the TV. Using some rubber gloves that he found in one of the cabinets, he removed the same part from each of the two TV’s. He carefully set them aside and stripped some wire that he had found and wrapped the bare end of the wire around the doorknob several times, while he had the girls stack a huge pile of tables in front of the door. There’s no way that Jeremy could make his way in there with that stack of stuff in the way. They found some other furniture and stacked it on top of the tables. Soon, you couldn’t even see the door. The only thing that was exposed, was the doorknob which had the winding of wire connected to it. Randall took one of the flyback transformers and connected the wires to it. “Don’t anyone touch that doorknob for any reason,” said Randall, “Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” said Talina as they all nodded accordingly.

“What will it do?” asked Kari.

“It is good for a one-time shock of a lifetime as long as it hasn’t been somehow discharged,” he replied.

“Will it kill him?” asked Talina.

“No, replied Randall, “but it will knock him on his fucking ass, that’s for sure!”

“What if it’s been `discharged’ as you said?” asked Martina.

“Then nothing will happen and he will just be pissed that he can’t get in,” answered Randall.

“What next?” asked Talina.

“The PA System is really annoying, I think, don’t you?” asked Randall.

“Yes, totally,” said Talina, “What are you going to do?”

“Break it!” said Randall in a happy voice.

“Help me move one of these tables over here, so I can get to the speaker,” said Mr. Jameson to the girls.

They all pitched in and moved a table underneath the speaker where Jeremy’s evil voice emanated from on a regular basis. Randall climbed onto the table and using the screwdriver, took the speaker down and connected two wires to it and dangled them down from the speaker, which was now hanging from the ceiling by its wires. He then connected one of the wires to the other flyback transformer and held it in one hand and the other wire in his opposite hand and waited for Jeremy to speak again.

“If there’s no power at the church, then how is the PA working?” asked Kari. “Is that a stupid question?”

“Yeah dad, how is that possible? Asked Talina.

“There’s power here,” said Randall. “He just has is shut off at the breaker box and it lying to us, saying there’s no power, so screw him! Get ready to hear a scream”

“What if he has a gun or something?” asked Kari.

“He doesn’t have a gun,” said Martina, “He’s afraid of them.”

“That’s a great idea,” exclaimed Randall, “A Stun Gun!”

“What?” said Martina.

“Good idea dad!” said Talina. “ I know what your plan is.”

“Where is that metal pole that was leaning up against the door?” asked Randall.

“I put it right here,” said Talina. “Next to the bed, so I could hit him with it.” She then grabbed the 5-foot long metal pole and handed it to her dad, who wrapped the handle with the black duct tape and then fastened the flyback transformer to the pole using tape and very carefully, as not to discharge the transformer, he connected the wires to the pole and set it on a wooden shelf, within easy reach.

“Okay, rule number one girls… Don’t touch the crazy metal pole, okay? he said, as if it were their first day of school.

“Okay dad,” they all three answered in perfect unison.
Randall laughed and as he did, Jeremy came over the loudspeaker and said, “What have you done to my cameras? I can’t see you.”
The speaker sounded totally different hanging from the ceiling. It was much more tinny and not as scary sounding as before.
Jeremy spoke up again and said, “Why aren’t you answering me? I can’t hear you or see you anymore. What have you done? You’re ruining every¬thing!”
Jeremy sounded very frustrated and it felt good for Randall and the girls, that they were getting his goat so easily.

“What are you demands?” asked Randall.

“I thought he couldn’t hear us, dad?” said Talina.

“I just want to make sure babygirl,” said Randall to his daughter, who was rallying her friends to be strong and prepare themselves for a confrontation with Jeremy.

“That son of a bitch better not try to hurt us!” said Kari.

“Don’t worry Kari, my dad will protect us, right dad?” said Talina.

“You betcha!” he responded, in a confident tone that put the girl’s fears to rest immediately.

“What now?” asked Talina again.

“Okay, everyone get dressed and get your shoes on and your stuff together and be prepared to run the fuck out of here, right behind me,” Randall said to the girls.

“How are we going to get out of here?” asked Martina, “None of us have a car.”

“Jeremy got us all here somehow, so we will just take his wheels when we leave,” said Randall.

“Okay, so it’s a plan,” said Talina and the girls started getting ready.

Jeremy came over the loudspeaker again, but Randall had found the volume control for it and had turned it way down, so now Jeremy was just babbling in the background and we got ready to mount our offensive.

“We’re ready to clear the doorway now,” said Randall. “It’s the only way out of here.”

The girls removed the cabinets and stuff that barred the door. The tables were moved one by one, as Jeremy screamed at the top of his lungs over the loudspeaker, which was now a softspeaker.

“What the hell have you done?” Jeremy yelled.

“Get ready girls,” said Randall, “This is going to get good.” He then placed the pole-mounted taser near the door.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” questioned Martina.

“Well sweetie,” he replied, “it’s not like we have a lot of options at this point. Do you want to stay here until who know when or do you want to go home and sl**p in your bed tonight?”

Talina spoke up and said, “But dad, I thought you said you wanted to wait until morning.”

“Yeah, well then I started thinking about you poor girls and I changed my mind,” he said. “Is that okay with you?”

“Totally pops, I was just asking,” she replied.

Jeremy had pretty much blown a gasket and was screaming through the speaker, “Fix what you have done or I will come down there and fix you!”

“What if….?” Martina started to say, as she was interrupted by Talina, “My dad was a Navy Seal okay? Don’t worry about it. Just listen to my dad and get ready to book it, k?”

“Okay,” she said. Sorry…”

“No problem,” said Talina to the terrified girl. “It’ll be okay.”

Jeremy was ranting on, making all kinds of threats about all these things that he was going to do, like take the video footage he already shot and put it on the Internet on a website and he would show his Uncle and get Mr. Jameson fired from his job for being a sex pervert.

“Have you girls heard about enough of Jeremy’s bullshit yet?” asked Randall, knowing the answer in advance.

“Yes,” they all responded.

“Okay, goodbye Jeremy, you dirtbag,” said Randall, as he reached up and pulled the speaker down from the ceiling, ripping the wires out of it as he did.

Then Randall calmed the mood of things by saying, “Talina, dinner was fantastic! You take after your mother in so many ways.”

“Why? Cause I’m crazy?” she responded, with a laugh.

“No babygirl,” he said, “don’t ever think that your mother’s problems had anything to do with you, because they didn’t.

“I know dad,” she said, as she reached out and hugged him.

“Group hug,” she said to the girls, who then came and joined her around Mr. Jameson.

“Thank you for getting us out of here,” said Kari.

“We’re not out of here just yet,” he said. “Talina, did you happen to see a phone around here anywhere?”

“Yes,” she replied. “There is a phone in the kitchen and I saw where Jeremy was keeping all of our cell phones. They are in the knife drawer, next to the stove.”

“Okay, good. Now, what about the video equipment?” he inquired.
Talina responded by telling him that she had seen a room near the office that had some kind of flickering light that could have been video monitors of some
sort, but other than that she had no idea.

“We need to retrieve any video tapes or DVR equipment that he may have been recording us with,” said Mr. Jameson. To use as evidence against Jeremy, in case for some reason is able to get it first and destroy it.”

“What about keys to a car?” asked Randall.

“I saw a set of keys hanging by the office door,” said Talina, “and they could be to Jeremy’s Forerunner. One of them looked like a Toyota key, but I didn’t get a real good look. They are only a springy plastic keychain.”

“So, here’s the deal,” said Randall, “Jeremy will be here any moment. When he touches the door, he should get zapped, but that will only make him angrier. When he finally does make it through the door, I will zap him with the taser and we will head through that door, locking him in her behind us.”

“Are we clear so far,” he asked.

“Yes, but what if…?” Martina started to asked.

“We can’t deal with `what if’s’ right now,” he said, we can only make a plan and then stick to it.”

“I’m with ya,” said Kari. “What should I do?”

Randall explained to them as simple as he knew how, “First we will head to the office, to get the keys to a vehicle, so we can drive out of here, then Talina, you take Kari and goto the kitchen and get our phones and while you are there, check to see if the landline works and if it does, dial 911 and just set the phone down, but don’t hang it up, then get outside to the car and get in and start it and lock the doors.”

He continued, “While you are doing that, Martina and I will look for the video recorders and see what we can grab and then we will meet you outside.”

“That’s the plan,” said Talina. “Let’s rock!!!”

Just then, they could hear footsteps coming down the old rickety stairs of the church, leading to the basement. They could also hear Jeremy yelling. It sounded like there was someone with him by the way he was talking. Either that or he was talking to him¬self. As he approached the door, we could hear keys jangling.

“Keys!” said Kari.

“Shhh,” said Randall, “Stand behind me and someone be sure to get the keys from him if he drops them.”

“Okay,” they all agreed aloud, as Jeremy drew closer. You could hear Jeremy bitching about not being able to film and just has he put his key in the lock and turned it, he said something like, “You stupid motherfuckers… bla… bla…” and then BAMM!!!, a scream like you have never heard and the sound of Jeremy traveling backwards into the wall behind him, bumping his head.

“What the fuck?” yelled Jeremy as he lay on the floor, on the other side of the door from them.

Randall turned the knob and the door opened, exposing pretty much what they pictured… Jeremy on his ass, looking up, wondering what the fuck just happened.

“Hey, you assholes! Get back in there!” yelled Jeremy, as he started to get up.

“Run girls!” yelled Randall as he took the end of the taser pole and stuck it right in Jeremy’s mouth, giving off the biggest spark you’ve ever seen. Something about the amount of metal in his fillings or something, but it popped and damn near blew his jam apart, with an explosive f***e. The spark gave off a bright light that made Talina and Kari stop dead in their tracks on the stairs and turn around, just as Jeremy let out a bl**d-curdling scream, like you ain’t never heard.

“What did you do to me?” he yelled, as he screamed in agony.

“Go Talina! Now!” he yelled at the two who looked like they had just seen a car wreck.

“Grab his feet Martina. Let’s pull him into this room,” exclaimed Randall, in a frantic tone. Martina grabbed his feet and they carried Jeremy into the dining hall and threw him on the floor. Now this would be his chance to stay in the place they had just spent an unknown amount of time in. Jeremy screamed at them to let go of him, but neither Martina, nor Randall looked at him or said a word to him, as they walked out the door and locked it behind them. They could hear him scream in pain and agony about how much his mouth hurt, but they didn’t say a word, and continued to walk up the stairs, until they entered the main level of the church. It wasn’t a very big church at all, but with the basement, it seemed bigger. Talina and Kari made their way to the kitchen and retrieved the missing cell phones. They checked the phone on the wall in the kitchen, but there was no dial-tone, so they made their way to the office where they grabbed the plastic keychain, that was just where she remembered it was and there was a Toyota key on it. As they made their way out to the car, Randall and Martina searched for the room that Talina had told them about. She was correct again, because there were TV monitors in that room, a bunch of them and a bunch of Digital Video Recorders that were connected through a series of wires to the cameras. Randall unplugged the devices that stored the actual video and threw them into a backpack that was sitting there.

There were a few miscellaneous items in the backpack, which Randall threw on the ground. One of which, was a piece of paper, that Martina picked up off the ground.

“Look Randall,” said Martina, “it’s some kind of map to gold mine.” She handed it to Randall and he looked at it and shoved it back in the pack.

“Here Martina,” he said, “Take this backpack and go get in the car, okay?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” she responded and she made tracks out of there.

Randall stared at the video monitors for a few seconds and real-ized that he was right, there was power to the church, but Jeremy had all of it shut off, except what he needed to run his video equip¬ment. What other sick and twisted things would they find on the DRV systems? And who else had he done this to?

It had to end and it had to end now, Randall thought to himself as he scrambled to make his way to the kitchen. He had given the flashlight to Talina and Kari, who were now safe in Jeremy’s Forerunner, with the engine running and the doors locked. Soon, Martina joined them and they were getting warm as the engine ran. Randall found the breaker box located inside the pantry, off of the kitchen. He switched every breaker to the on position and as he did, the old church lit up like a Christmas tree. He then went back into the kitchen and opened the oven and blew out the pilot light and turned the gas up on high and then did the same thing to the stove. They place was quickly filling up with the pungent odor of propane, as Randall exited the church, slamming the front door behind him. As he came from the church, the girls all repositioned themselves, so that Mr. Jameson could get behind the wheel.

“Okay, we’re rollin’!,” he said as he turned on the headlights and slammed it in reverse, spitting gravel all over the windows to the basement, where Jeremy was now locked. They drove fast, as they rolled down the gravel driveway to the church. The girls had no idea what Randall had done with the gas, as the church exploded in a ball of flames behind them.

“Oh my god!” exclaimed Kari, “Jeremy blew up the church!”

“We got out of there just in time,” said Martina. “We owe it all to you Randall.

Talina interrupted Martina and said, “You know Martina, you really should wait until you get to know my dad a little better, before you start calling him Randall.”

“Talina,” she replied, “Your dad filled my pussy full of cum earlier and your little girly friend here ate it out of my pussy, so I think I know him well enough to be on a first-name basis with him.”

Talina looked at Kari and said, “You ate my dad’s cum out of this tramp’s snatch?”

“Yes,” she responded slowly.

“Oh snap!” said Talina, “High-five sista. You are officially in the f****y now. Hahahaha. You ate my dad’s cum.”

“And Martina, I don’t really think you are a tramp,” said Talina.

“I kinda like being a tramp,” replied Martina, “It has its benefits.”

“Speaking of benefits,” said Randall. “After we get to a city with a motel and a diner, I will get us all something to eat and a room and we can stay the night and get some rest. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great dad, I am not so hungry, but very sl**py,” said Talina.

“Is everybody okay,” asked Randall. “That was quite an ordeal.”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” they all responded. “Just tired.”

“What are we going to tell the cops?” asked Martina.

“Well…” Randall started to say, as he was interrupted by his daughter.

“We aren’t going to tell the cops shit about nothing,” spoke Talina, with authority. “Fuck Jeremy! He was a lying asshole who hurt a lot of people and would have hurt a lot more if we hadn’t stopped him.”

“What about the explosion though?” asked Kari. “Won’t someone see that and won’t the police come to the church?”

Randall took over the conversation by saying, “Kari, just so you know… the explosion at the church was an accident, but what Jeremy did to us was not, it was premeditated and very evil, so as long as everyone understands that we were lucky to get out of there before we got hurt, I think we can all put this behind us and move on with our lives, without involving the authorities.”

“No one say a word about it to anyone,” said Talina, “End of story.” Both girls nodded in agreement, that it would be off limits for discussion by anyone.

“What about the fact that we are driving Jeremy’s car?” said Kari.

“Boy, you just think of everything don’t you?” said Talina.

“I have one of those kinds of minds I guess,” she replied.

“I have an idea what we can do with Jeremy’s vehicle,” said Talina. “We need to have a way home, once we drop it off though.”

“Where do you propose we should dump the Jeremy’s wheels sweetheart?” said Randall.

“Kari and I know where there’s this mine that’s closed and with all of the explosions they’ve had nearby, it won’t be long before that place is covered
in rock and timber,” said Talina.

“Okay,” said Randall, “here is a motel with a restaurant next door, let’s stop and stay the night here.”

“Do you have cash Mr. Jameson?” asked Kari. “Don’t use a credit card, or your real name, or Jeremy’s license plate number, okay?”

“Okay Matlock,” he responded with a chuckle, “I’ll remember that.”

“What I want you girls to do is stay in the car, until I get back, okay?” asked Randall.

“Okay,” they replied.

Randall went inside and paid cash, as Kari had suggested, but he had other plans and used Jeremy’s name and license plate number on the registration card. Hey got the room key and got back in the car and re-parked closer to their room. They unload¬ed what little stuff they had with them, into the room and got freshened up, before going next door and having a huge steak and baked potato. It had been many hours since they ate dinner and they were all hungry. Plus, feeling like they had done the world a favor, was a pretty good feeling as well. They finished eating and went back to the motel.

They watched TV, thinking that the fire at the church would be on the news, but it wasn’t. There wasn’t a word of it anywhere. Maybe no one knew about it yet. Nonetheless, they all felt relieved to be away from Jeremy and his craziness. Bed part¬ners were chosen almost immediately, as Talina and

Kari got into one bed together and snuggled up to one-another.

“I guess that leaves you and I,” said Randall to Martina.

“I look forward to it,” she replied as she turned off the light and got undressed and got into bed with Randall Jameson.

“Good night Randall,” she said softly in his ear.

“Good night,” he replied softly as well.

“Good night John-boy,” said Talina, making a joke of them saying good night like that.”

“Good night Talina” said Randall, “and good night Kari, sl**p well my girls.”

Talina spoke up and said, “We’ll sl**p fine as long as you two don’t keep us awake all night fucking.”

“Fucking, huh?” he responded. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Duh,” she replied, “You are a man. Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Hahahaha,” Kari laughed as they squabbled over whether or not Mr. Jameson was going to fuck the snot out of Martina, with them in the room.

“Let’s just get some sl**p girls,” said Randall. “There will be plenty of time for `fucking’, once we get through this.”

“Yeah, you are right dad,” said Talina, “Good night.”

Randall and the girls were so tired from the whole ordeal, that they fell asl**p almost immediately. The next morning, they woke up early and got a move on, back to Grayson, where they stopped at the condo and grabbed Talina’s car, before driving to the mine to drop off Jeremy’s vehicle.

When they got to the mine, the gate was just as they left it. Talina took the lead in her car, showing Randall where to drive the Fore¬runner to. They reached the mine shaft, where the door was still unlocked. Kari jumped out and slid the large metal door out of the way, exposing the shaft tunnel.

“We will drive this thing down there dad,” said Talina. “You and Martina stay here.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “What if?” He was interrupted by Talina saying, “What if, nothing…. Just wait here. We will be right back.”

“Okay babygirl,” he said, “If you insist. I trust you know what you are doing?”

“Yep,” replied Talina, “We know dad…”

Randall and Martina, swapped vehicles with Talina and Kari. They sat and watched, while Talina drove the Forerunner down the shaft tunnel, with Kari behind her, riding on the skip.

It didn’t take long to drive down the shaft and into the lower level of the mine. Before they knew it, they were parked at the bottom, planning their next move. With the headlights on, they gathered a few items together, like a couple kerosene lanterns and a small pickaxe that was laying nearby. Talina got out of the vehicle and yelled to Kari, to stay on the skip and get ready to go up with it. She then took the small pickaxe and climbing under¬neath the 4x, hacked a hole in the gas tank, which sent unleaded fuel spilling everywhere.

“Quick,” said Talina, “Let’s get out of here!” That was all Kari needed to hear, as she engaged the motor of the skip and it started traveling upward. Talina ran and jumped on the traveling skip and landed right on top of Kari.

“Déjà vu,” said Kari.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” replied Talina.
The skip reached the outer opening of the mine, as they ran as fast as they could to get in the waiting vehicle, driven by Randall Jameson.

“What now? Asked Randall.

Talina spoke up and said, “We left a kerosene lantern burning down that and it should…”, when all of a sudden a huge explosion came from inside the mine. Rock and debris could be seen coming from the shaft, as it completely caved in.

“Well, that’s that,” said Talina. “End of Jeremy.”

“Yep,” said Martina, “He definitely had it coming, that’s for sure.

“Yeah, he was a sicko,” said Kari.

“It’s over,” said Randall, “Now we just need to destroy the DVR’s and everything will be back to normal.”

Talina opened the backpack full of electronic equipment and pulled the two video recording units from inside.

“Give me that screwdriver out of my purse Kari,” said Talina.

Kari reached in Talina’s purse and pulled out a Philips screwdriver and handed it to Talina. Talina then unscrewed the covers to the DVR units and removed the hard drives that stored the video footage.

Talina then spoke up and told her father, “Dad, there are some bluffs on the right-hand side up here. Pull over when you get to Lookout Point, okay?”

“Okay,” replied Randall. They drove a short distance and then pulled off the highway at the Lookout Point exit.

Talina exited the vehicle with both DVR hard drives in her hand. “Be right back,” she said. She then walked to the edge of a huge drop off and threw the devices against the rocks below, where they crashed into a million pieces before her eyes. She knew it was finally over and though Jeremy would never bother them again, that a part of him still lived on in her, as she lived out her life, with Kari and after a short time, Randall married Martina and the four all moved away to California, to a small town called Auburn, located in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains and though they often had sex together and felt no shame about the lifestyle that they had chosen, but knew that compared to some¬one like Jeremy, they were pretty much a normal f****y. Randall kept the paper with the treasure map on it and vowed to someday go there for a moose hunt and see if there really was gold buried there. He doubted it and had found the treasure that he had always longed for. And they all lived happily ever after!
... Continue»
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Slaves of the Amethyst (part nine)


Chapter Sixty Four.

Alice had simply never known an evening like it in her life. To her it was the most defining few hours of her impending adulthood. In common with many a young person Alice had entered into marriage with Daniel with only the vaguest idea of some nebulous future. They’d had hazy ideas of buying a house someday, of Daniel getting a better job, of c***dren someday, of moving out of Teescastle. They’d had dreams but the reality had always been the wage packets that had never seemed enough to cover all the bills on their rented accommodation and still allow a few luxuries in their life. Dreams could shatter on the council tax and the final demand for the electricity. The fantasies were a will of the wisp that vanished in ghostly tendrils before the onslaught of the brown envelopes that cursed the breakfast table like portents of doom. They’d married on the financial grounding of about three months leeway in the bank between themselves and disaster. In the passion of their love they’d gambled against a future in which a single setback could have spelled ruin. They’d walked into a shop of love and placed their meagre resources on a lottery ticket of wild chance. Now the numbers that added up to the winning total were falling at their feet with unerring regularity. Now it was the brown envelopes that belonged to some awful dream to be banished back into the darkness with the coming of light. Alice felt as if they had passed through a portal into another existence the day they had walked around the headland at Bolswick Bay. This new world was a magic realm where anything was possible and Alice stared at the fairy witch queen of this realm with unabashed astonishment and admiration.
From the moment that they had joined Robin, Rebecca and Lady Mathom on the terrace for afternoon tea all the astounding events of the past week or so had been crystallising into a glittering gem that contained the future in its myriad facets. Alice had been slightly worried about how Daniel would conduct himself in front of Lady Mathom but her worries had been unfounded. In fact to her profound surprise she had seen an aspect of her new husband she had rarely observed before. It had taken some time to tease out but it was now evident in every thing that he said. Alice had been prepared to consider an offer of her own slavery to the Mistress of Mathom Hall but what caught her completely by surprise was the all too obvious willingness of her husband to regard himself in that light himself. From the moment that Her Ladyship had warmly greeted them at tea Daniel had quite clearly worshipped the purple-eyed queen that ruled the vast gables of this mighty house. He was infatuated by her, intoxicated by her presence, elevated by her inspiration and willing and ready to declare her his liege lady in perpetuity.
It wasn’t as if Daniel was being crawlingly obsequious however. In fact he seemed to have emerged somewhat from his natural shyness and he fielded Lady Mathom’s questions with reasonable confidence. There was not the slightest remnant of his or Robin’s earlier intoxication discernible. That disgraceful condition had been ruthlessly eliminated by a regime of cold showers, strong coffee and feminine disapproval. It had been a subdued but at least sober pair of chastised men that had led their womenfolk out onto the back terrace for afternoon tea. In Daniel’s case it had also been a very hungry one. In the working class culture from which Daniel hailed “tea” was the name given to the main meal of the day. Dinner was the meal you grabbed at work at noon and tea was the big meal you sat down to when you got home from work. Mathom Hall’s idea of tea as a light repast of fiddling little sandwiches, canapés and pastries to fill in the gap between lunch and the evening dinner was an appallingly insubstantial bill of fare to Daniel’s appetite.
There were compensations however. The best consolation was the magnetic personality of Lady Mathom herself. Daniel had had it more or less fixed firmly in his mind that Her Ladyship’s main interest was focussed on Alice and that he was just to be tolerated as Alice’s husband. To his surprise it hadn’t been like that at all for Lady Mathom had shown a keen interest in him as well, plying him with questions about his work, f****y and future ambitions. Despite being forewarned by Alice he had been astonished upon being first introduced to his hostess. Alice had said she was beautiful and captivating but none of her description had prepared Daniel for the physical shock of encountering the raven haired Mistress of Mathom Hall for the first time. Within minutes he was devoted to her and had he been a medieval knight of the court he would have laid his sword at her feet without hesitation.
Daniel didn’t have a sword but he did have his building crafts and skills to present before his Lady. By the second cup of tea he was agreeing to take a look at the tiling on the roof of the big west wing, over a cucumber sandwich he had taken on responsibility for the reparation of a crumbling wall surrounding the kitchen’s herb garden and by the time he had finished his second muffin he was offering to construct a winter garden annex to the downstairs Rose Parlour. He realised early that Lady Mathom was finely judging his breadth of knowledge and work ethic. Apparently she seemed impressed. Daniel had never before found such pride in his chosen profession, which was odd because he had learned his trade early from his father and he truly loved it and was already highly skilled and conscientious in his application. Most of all Daniel loved old buildings. He was fascinated by the building craft and stone masonry of earlier times and could happily spend an entire day inside a cathedral just examining the flying buttresses or the construction of the arches. He’d taken evening classes in architecture and the experience had left him hungry for greater knowledge. In their little flat in Teescastle there were shelves full of books on architecture and ancient buildings. He’d always harboured a secret ambition to work on the restoration and repair of old historical buildings. Mathom Hall was a dream come true to Daniel and he itched to be allowed to unleash his skills upon it.
To Lady Mathom Daniel was a quite unexpected bonus. She had already been impressed by Alice and was determined to bring her under the patronage of Mathom Hall. She had been concerned however that Alice might have divided loyalties due to her marriage. Therefore she was enormously gratified that Robin and Rebecca had brought not one remarkable young person to the Hall but two. Daniel was an Alpha Sensual. Of that she was certain although the syndrome was often more difficult to discern in the male than in the female. Yet the signs were unmistakeable to her finely tuned awareness and she was busily grooming the young man for a future role in the House of Mathom. That Alice had found a kindred Alpha Sensual to wed was not at all surprising to her. Whether or not either was aware of their inheritance was irrelevant. Like tended to seek out like and the Goddess recognised her own. That two Alphas upon meeting would fall directly in love with each other was the most natural thing imaginable. To come upon two such high potential young people at the very moments of their burgeoning abilities was a true find. Daniel and Alice were as yet only vaguely aware of it but Lady Mathom was already planning their future and shaping their destiny to the needs of the House of Mathom. It was eminently agreeable to have two such fresh young slaves of such potential ability at her disposal.
Rebecca watched in fascination as her Mistress began the slow but inevitable process of chaining the young couple to her will. That they would become slaves of Mathom Hall was never in doubt to Rebecca. They had already gladly surrendered themselves to the Purple Lady and it required only the formality of open declaration. There would come a time Rebecca saw when they would be spending almost as much time at the Hall as in their little house at Bolswick Bay. Daniel would be trained as a master builder and the physical infrastructure of the great house would become his domain and all consuming passion whilst his wife would grace the parlours and gardens as a flowering daughter of the Goddess. Wealth would flow easily into their hands and their life would be enriched beyond measure. Rebecca blessed the blind working of destiny that had brought this young pair around the headland at Bolswick Bay whilst she had reclined naked on the sand before Eugene’s camera.
Eugene! Rebecca had not thought about Eugene for several days now but there was unfinished business there as well wasn’t there? She had shared her bl**d in solemn oath with Eugene yet she knew not where her bl**d s****r was. All she had was an electronic address, a site somewhere on the end of computer network and a mobile telephone number. But Alice would be seeing Eugene at the weekend in Germany. Rebecca began laying her plans to connect up to Eugene via Alice. Rebecca was a woman who never forgot her commitments and promises. There was a mystery about Eugene. How was it that a slave of the Purple Lady had never been allowed to dwell beneath the eaves of Mathom Hall? There was some great sadness behind that story and Rebecca did not like sadness among the people she loved. She had vowed to bring Eugene home and Rebecca took her vows very seriously indeed.
Eugene was having an unqualified bitch of a week. She had flown back to the continent on the Saturday that Jennifer had been elected Festival Queen. She had flown straight into Zurich and that evening had reported to Professor Sehler on her meeting with Rebecca. He’d been mightily disgruntled as if he had expected her to drag young Miss Walpole into his office at White Mountain on the end of a chain with her. Fortunately he’d received an Email from Mathom Hall. Lady Mathom had informed him haughtily that her young slave would report to him at her convenience and until she did then he was counselled to possess himself with patience, an attribute that was not one of the good professor’s more notable traits of personality. Nevertheless the Email had diverted the flak away from Eugene herself and the Professor had instead directed his ire at the Mistress of Mathom Hall, a target that was entirely unmoved by his indignant irritation. Nevertheless it had been an uncomfortable encounter and Eugene had been glad to escape to her own office.
Not that there was much refuge there. White Mountain was an absolute madhouse and Eugene had spent the next few days fire-fighting one security alert after another. The alpine valley in which White Mountain was headquartered was filling up with diverse personnel from all over the world in response to the imperatives of Prophecy One and it was a security nightmare. Eugene had had to call up a half dozen of her operatives from around Europe simply to handle the volume of security checks needed to vet the influx of specialists flooding into the valley. Fortunately she had very able subordinates and nearing the end of the week the process was functioning smoothly enough for her to escape the bedlam and flee back to North Germany to deal with her own private business. The modelling agency had work coming on line as well and there was somewhat of a flap in her studios above the Catacombs nightclub too. There was no rest for the wicked she reflected ruefully and it had taken her two days just to sort out the backlog of contracts and other work.
By the Sunday evening she was exhausted so she put all her calls on hold and determined that tonight was just for herself. She had an inclination to spend the evening with one of her friends in an agreeable restaurant in the St Pauli district of the city. The friend was close enough to her that the prospect of an erotic dalliance was taken as given for the evening’s entertainment and she sat at her dressing table in her big apartment preparing herself meticulously in anticipation of that pleasant interlude in her hectic schedule. It was whilst rummaging through her cosmetics and necessary female accoutrements that the sanitary towels and tampons that she had hastily bought in Zurich came to her attention. In all the assorted panic of the past week she had completely forgotten about them. More to the point her body had not reminded her of them. Eugene frowned. She was late, unusually late. She must be nearly a week overdue. In the madcap rush of the week just past it hadn’t even occurred to her. Now it did and Eugene felt the hair on the nape of her neck tingle in sudden alarm. She willed calm upon herself. There was no need to panic. She’d been late before many times. It was over-whelmingly likely to be just another false alarm. She stared petrified at her reflection in the mirror however. What if it wasn’t a false alarm?
At dinner at Mathom Hall Alice and Daniel were introduced to Helen, Heather and Abigail since all those three young ladies were called upon to wait upon Lady Mathom, Robin, Rebecca and their two guests. There was a subtle informality about the meal since after all the girls were serving their own peers as well as their Mistress and her son. This lent an air of relaxation to the proceedings that would not have been permissible in a more formal setting. Lady Mathom was quite at ease with this laxity since it was important for her new slaves to be introduced to their colleagues. The future status of the pair in the Hall was giving her much thought. It was highly unusual for the Hall to accept married slaves as initial recruits although numbers of them did marry during their servitude. Many of those marriages were single sex marriages of course and frequently extended ones at that. Heterosexual marriages occurred as well but they tended to be somewhat divided since male slaves of the Hall had separate accommodations from the girls or lived off the premises and came under the authority of male mentors. This frequently led to their absence from the Hall for protracted periods of training at establishments specialising in the tutorship of male Alpha Sensuals. Nevertheless there were arrangements made among the lower caste of slaves for mixed quarters. What was more difficult was the position of the higher personal slaves of Lady Mathom herself. These were of course housed in the slave’s wing and it was an exclusively female domain.
The problem was to decide to just which level in the hierarchy of the Hall Alice belonged. There were more slaves at Mathom Hall than merely Her Ladyship’s personal young ladies but not all of them lived in the Hall and some of them were day workers living off the grounds and answered to a lesser Master or Mistress within or without it. For instance the many gardening personnel came under the responsibility of the head gardener and the Alpha Sensuals among them took their oaths to the Hall through his authority, an authority invested in him by his own servitude to the Mistress of the Hall. In ordinary circumstances Daniel would have been placed under the mentorship of the Hall’s Master mason and he would pledge himself to service of the House of Mathom through that gentleman’s office. But he was married to Alice and that made him a special case because it was becoming clear that Alice could not be rendered into the care of one of the household’s matrons or even any other mistress within the valley. Her strong connection with Rebecca and Robin precluded that but there was also the growing impression in Lady Mathom’s mind that Alice was rather special in any case. She was definitely of very pure Alpha lineage and most certainly an Alpha Sensual of powerful potential. The House of Mathom had strong familial ties in Bolswick Bay and Lady Mathom was increasingly beginning to realise that Alice was very likely distantly related to the House by way of her unknown parents. In this respect Lady Mathom’s discreet inquiries had borne some fruit and, whereas Alice’s biological father had proved frustratingly impossible as yet to trace, Alice’s natural mother had been uncovered.
Lady Mathom did not want to reveal the results of her inquiries to Alice as yet. For one thing it was a tragic tale all too familiar among Alpha Sensuals raised without the proper consideration of their special needs. Alice’s mother was not dead but in some respects she might as well have been. She was a d**g addict and she’d spent a considerable proportion of her life in and out of prison for various d**g related offences. It seemed only a matter of time before she killed herself or even possibly killed someone else. Unfettered Alpha Sensuals with ill disciplined enhanced abilities could be very dangerous. Lady Mathom had already talked to Rachel about this woman and there was already an initiative in progress to pull Alice’s biological mother back under the umbrella of the Line. Such people were not unrecoverable and Rachel’s contacts had a high success rate in this regard.
There was no doubt however that the daughter branch of the Line of Mathom in Bolswick Bay and Saltersea had long required a more definite structured organisation. Apart from a few families such as Amanda Braithwaite’s there was a lamentable looseness among the ties in the region and it was likely that Alice and her mother’s case were by no means isolated ones. It was highly desirable therefore that the House cemented a stronger connection to the coastal area and, in Alice; Lady Mathom possessed the means to do so. A personal slave of her own acting on her behalf from a household in the Bay would be a powerful influence in bringing some order into the perilously haphazard and weak affiliations among the local Alpha population. If Alice were tied in bonds of marriage to the House through Rebecca and Robin moreover, then all the better. They could sweep up the entire coastal region and put a stable and ordered structure into place that would capture all the loose cannons drifting about and put them under the lock and key of slavery to the Line where they belonged. It would be a fine legacy to leave. Alice’s house overlooking the sea at Bolswick Bay could become a power lode of dominance in the region. There was no reason why the Bay and its environs could not become as safe and as stable an environment as Mathomdale itself. A powerful deputy connected to the dynasty was the means to forge an outpost of the Purple Empire along the coast. Lady Mathom was already forming her plans for Alice Foreman.
After dinner Lady Mathom invited Alice, Daniel, Robin and Rebecca into a comfortable parlour for coffee and brandy. She had propositions to make to her guests and Alice and Daniel listened to them with growing amazement. It was relatively easy for Lady Mathom. In their own minds Alice and Daniel were already to all intents and purposes enslaved to the Mistress of Mathom Hall. All it really required was to lay down the conditions of their slavery and to point out the mutual advantages of it.
Alice never forgot that conversation in that parlour. She had never heard of anything that sounded so bizarre and yet so exhilarating in her life. In essence Lady Mathom asked her for her allegiance in slavery to the House of Mathom and specifically Alice’s allegiance to her personally. This allegiance would require total obedience and loyalty. She would be expected to attend upon Lady Mathom any time when required to do so. She would have her own chambers in the slave’s wing when her presence was required at the Hall. Should Daniel accompany her on any visit to the Hall they would be assigned married quarters if required. She would be expected to undergo a regime of training and indoctrination and she would be expected to conform to the same disciplinary regime as any other of the Hall’s high caste slaves. Lady Mathom also expected Daniel to take oaths of allegiance to the House and his skills would be developed and utilised by the Hall as required. He would be obliged to realise that his wife had priorities outside of their marriage and that so did he. There should be no conflict Lady Mathom assured them. In a sense they would both be married within the context of their servitude to the House. They would take on the appellation of Mathom in addition to their married name. The House would guarantee their welfare and protection in return. They would be expected to consider their home in Bolswick Bay to be an annex, a daughter house of Mathom Hall itself. They would place the Mathom arms above their doorway in recognition of that fact. They would be honour bound to shelter anybody of close affiliation to the House beneath their roof and in return would be granted the right of shelter at the Hall in perpetuity. They would be expected to conduct themselves as befitting the dignity of bonded slaves of the House of Mathom. Their duties and responsibilities would be explained to them in due course and these would be morally obligatory. They would find their lives busy but rewarding. The House was demanding but generous too. They could make bonfires out of the brown envelopes on the kitchen table if they wanted! Did they have any questions?
Alice cleared her throat and stared at the extraordinary woman quite calmly laying down the conditions under which Alice was obliged to surrender her freedom. “Do yer… I mean do you mean My Lady that me and Danny would ‘ave… have to give up our freedom to you?”
Lady Mathom looked at her “Freedom Alice? What freedom is this? Freedom to work for five pounds an hour in a hotel doing a job you hate? Freedom to live in a rented apartment in a dirty industrial city and count the pennies to pay the gasman? Freedom to join the dole queue if Daniel should lose his job? Freedom to chance the muggers and the burglars of a collapsing society? Freedom to lie awake at night and wonder where all your dreams went to? No Alice. On the contrary I am offering you your freedom. The freedom to realise your dreams.”
“In what way My Lady?”
“Well for instance since I saw you this morning I have telephoned your old tutor, Dr Mannstein in Bolswick Bay. He will be expecting to take up your piano lessons where you left off before you left the Bay previously. His tuition fees will be debited directly to this house. I told you this morning that it was a criminal waste for such a talent to be allowed to wither. In my opinion there is no reason whatsoever why you should not be a concert standard pianist. If your lessons go well we’ll have to see about enrolling you for some courses at a prestigious music academy. We have such an academy here in the North of England that would be a short commute for you. I know one of the directors there. I shall have a word with him.”
Alice was looking at Lady Mathom speechlessly. In the background Rebecca allowed herself a short laugh. Lady Mathom continued. “You’ll need your own car however. Can you drive?”
“Y…yes My Lady.”
“Well I presume that if we come to an agreement then Daniel will be buying a van for his working materials. Is this true Daniel?”
“Yes ma-am. In fact I ‘ad… had a look at one this week ma-am.”
“Do you already have another car?”
“Yes ma-am but its rubbish. It’s allus breaking down.”
“Well you’ll certainly require another vehicle. The public transportation system in this country is a national disgrace. There will be times when Alice will be required here at the Hall when you are unable to drive her owing to your work commitments. If we come to a mutual agreement then Robin can drive you over to our automobile dealers in town this week and you can pick out a suitable vehicle. I’ll budget you to fifteen thousand pounds. That should be more than ample to pay for a good sound, reliable car. Do you agree?”
Daniel was having trouble speaking. Finally he croaked “Y.. yes My Lady.”
“Excellent. Now I’m unfamiliar with your new house. Do you have a lot of room?”
“Well its big enough fer us ma-am.” Daniel told her.
“Big enough for you, Alice and a concert grand piano Daniel?”
“Oo ‘eck I don’t know about that ma-am. Pianos take up a lot of room.”
“Do you have a garage?”
“Yes ma-am. It’s a bit run down but that’s soon fixed.”
“Good. Will it take two cars? Or rather a car and your van?”
“I think so ma-am. It’s quite spacious.”
“What about your work materials? Presumably they’ll take up quite a good deal of space.”
“That’s one of the best things about t’ place ma-am. We ‘ave an old barn adjoining that’ll be perfect for storage.”
“Hmm. It sounds as if you picked up a real bargain for the price.”
“Well it does need a fair bit of work Milady.”
“I have every confidence that you will be able to give it the attention it needs. How big is this barn?”
“Right big ma-am. I’ll have more than enough space.”
“Big enough to partition part off as a music studio for Alice?”
“Well I don’t know ma-am. It’s a bit damp in there for the moment.”
“Yes I see your point. It’s not the environment to put a fine piano in is it?”
Alice interrupted “But My Lady I don’t have a piano!”
“A regrettable circumstance that will be corrected at our earliest convenience Alice. You’ll never achieve consistency of performance without continuous practise. Perhaps we can construct an annex to the house to serve as your studio.”
Daniel frowned. “I don’t know ma-am. The house is a listed building. I don’t know if we’d get planning permission.”
“I have influence on the planning committee Daniel. You’d get permission.”
Daniel cogitated for a moment. “There is one solution ma-am.”
“And that is?”
“Well we was thinking of taking a wall out between two rooms on t’ ground floor to give us a big through lounge. If we did that I’m sure we’d ‘ave enough room for a piano.” Alice’s eyes were shining. She could see it now. Playing her piano by the big French windows with their view over the bay. It was a vision of paradise.
“That sounds like an eminently practical solution Daniel.” Lady Mathom continued. “Very well as soon as the necessary alterations are completed we’ll have the old Steinway that Alice was playing on this morning transported to Bolswick bay and professionally installed.”
“What!” Alice exploded “I’m sorry! I beg your pardon My Lady but yer can’t be serious.”
“I am perfectly serious Alice. That old piano doesn’t get played anything like enough. I would be delighted to think that it was being played regularly by somebody with the talent to do it justice.”
“But it’s beautiful ma-am. It’s far too good for me.”
“Nonsense Alice. I watched you playing it this morning. It was obvious that you loved it. An instrument like that needs to be loved and played with love. I think you will do that.”
“Oh My Lady…”
“I’m lending it to you Alice not giving it to you…. Yet.”
“Wh.. what do yer mean ma-am?”
“Just what I say Alice. The piano is on loan to you. The day that I come to see you perform your first major concert in public it is yours. Do you understand?”
Alice was close to tears “M…my Lady! I don’t know what to say. Nothing ever ‘appened to me like this before!”
“I repeat what I said earlier Alice. A slave of the House of Mathom surrenders only their freedom to be enslaved by others against their will. As a slave of this House you will have the freedom to realise your potential and fulfil your dreams. You will be obliged to do those things. You, both of you, carry the genetic seeds of genius in you. The imperatives of those seeds are your true masters. There is an old saying “Talent does what it can. Genius does what it must” A slave of this House is expected to live up to the full potential of their capabilities. We don’t deal in mediocrities here. You are expected to be exceptional. You Alice will be a concert pianist and you Daniel a master builder and architect. We’ll have to find some way for you to fit your university studies around your work Daniel.”
“My… my university studies ma-am?”
“Oh yes! Didn’t I mention that? I’d like you to do a degree in architecture Daniel, possibly specialising in historic architecture since that seems to be your greatest interest. I’ll see which academic institutions in our area offer part time degrees in the subject and we’ll get you signed up.”
“But I left school at sixteen ma-am! I don’t ‘ave the qualifications.”
“Universities are essentially commercial enterprises Daniel. They’re always looking for money. The sponsorship and wealth of the House of Mathom will be all the qualifications you need believe me.”
“bl**dy ‘ell! Oh I’m sorry My Lady! Forgive my language.”
“I will allow you the occasional epithet Daniel. I will not allow you however to fail in your studies. Do you think you can do the course?”
“Aye! I mean yes ma-am. I did some study at night school in architecture and I loved it. I could do it standing on me ‘ead! I know I could.”
“That’s right Milady!” Alice interjected enthusiastically “Danny’s real clever about things like that. He’s got ‘undreds of books at home about building an’ architecture. Every time we go out to town ‘e’s dragging me around old churches and things an’ showin’ me ‘ow they built them in olden days. ‘E’d be as ‘appy as a pig in … I mean he’d be ‘appy learning more about it.”
Lady Mathom laughed “I’m familiar with the rustic simile you were going to use Alice. Very well Daniel you’ll have all the time and opportunity to wallow at your leisure.”
“My Lady?” said Alice soberly.
“Yes Alice?”
“I …I mean we don’t know ‘ow to thank you for all that yer doin’ for us.”
“You’ll thank me by becoming loyal, obedient and conscientious slaves of this House Alice. That is the price that I am asking for your future. That is the commitment that I expect of you. And it will be a lifetime commitment Alice, bound by solemn oaths and pledges. This House has a shining future to offer you but in return it demands your absolute allegiance to it. It demands that you wear the fetters of slavery to it. This is the way we do things in our Line. These are the bonds that tie us together and make us special. This is what makes us strong. We are not the same as ordinary people Alice. You will learn that all too soon. We are the Line, c***dren of the Goddess and a great deal depends upon us. We don’t have time for the petty considerations and neuroses that bedevil society at large. We have too much to do. This House requires your service. I require it. When will I have your answer?”
Alice took a deep breath “For me My Lady you may ‘ave it now. I don’t know about Danny but you may consider me ter be your new slave My Lady.”
“And you Daniel?”
“What Alice says goes for me an’ all Milady. I’m at your service fer as long as yer want me.”
“Thank you c***dren. I’m delighted and you’ll never regret your decision I promise you. I shall have the formal documents drawn up and there will be an official ceremony to swear you in. In the meantime however I would like to welcome you warmly to your new House. It is customary to seal such an informal commitment with a kiss Alice. Would you….?”
Suddenly filled with an exuberant joy she could barely understand Alice jumped up to cross the floor and accept her Mistress’s embrace. The kiss was tender and Alice melted in its warmth not wanting it to end but she gave way to a sheepish Daniel and Lady Mathom kissed him too and patted him affectionately. “Robin says you are a fine fisherman as well Daniel.” She told him whilst holding his hands. “Did you catch those trout we ate at dinner?”
“Er yes ma-am.” The fish course had been fresh, grilled, devilled trout.
“They were delicious. We’ll have to send you down to the river more often. Wild river trout are far superior to the mushy products of fish farms.” Lady Mathom turned to Rebecca and Robin “Well you two are rather quiet. Aren’t you going to welcome your new b*****r and s****r to the House?”
Rebecca jumped up with gleaming eyes. “I certainly am!” There followed an interlude of warm embraces and Lady Mathom observed it with deep satisfaction, content with a good day’s work in securing two such valuable slaves for her household. It was one of her greatest pleasures to enjoy the company of young people and deeply gratifying to bind them in kindred to herself. Sometimes she thought that she was a parasite on their youth as if she required it to retain some vestige of a youth she had left behind so long ago. She borrowed their youth to feel young herself once more. Eventually she brought a halt to proceedings.
“I’m afraid now I must leave you for I have pressing duties to attend to. Will you entertain Daniel and Alice Robin? And you Rebecca?”
“Of course mother.” Robin replied.
“Good. Perhaps you can take the time to instruct them in a little more detail about the House and their new situation. You are leaving on Thursday I believe Alice.”
“Yes ma-am. That is if it’s all right with you.”
“Yes you have my permission to return to your affairs. Undoubtedly there’ll be much you have to attend to. Rebecca told me that you are flying to Germany for a modelling contract with Eugene Collette at the weekend. Is that true?”
“Yes ma-am. It’s a lingerie contract for a catalogue. Would that be all right?”
“I have no objection Alice. It will be an experience for you and a chance to make a bit of extra pocket money. Just don’t be letting Eugene drag you into the pages of one of her more raunchy publications. I know Eugene. She can be a very wicked girl at times. I’ll be speaking to her in the next couple of days but will you please promise me to run any new contracts she offers you by me before you agree to them.”
“Yes My Lady. I promise.”
“Good girl. You’ll have fun in Hamburg. I’ll certainly see you before you both leave but in the meantime I’d like you both to spend some time familiarising yourself with the Hall. I’ll arrange an interview for you with Mr Coleman Daniel. He’s our head of building works and he can show you around a bit. But now I must get along.” Lady Mathom rose and kissed each of them goodnight. Daniel thought it was almost as if somebody had switched the lights off when she had left the room.
Lady Mathom’s other new slave was passing a quiet evening in the cellars. Jennifer was currently sat at the big table in the dining chamber and working on her essay. Rachel was comfortably reclining in an old threadbare armchair, that Sebastian had found somewhere, by the fire and, of all things, knitting. She was knitting little woollen baby clothes from a pattern in a magazine in great contentment and Jennifer covertly watched her from the corner of her eyes with affectionate pleasure. There was not the slightest sensible reason for Rachel to be knitting clothes for her expected baby Jennifer realised. Rachel was wealthy enough to order up clothes for her new born by the vanload if she wanted. She just liked doing it. The act of producing clothes for her own baby was an act of maternity that had nothing to do with practicalities. It just afforded her the deepest of pleasure to think that her new born c***d would be clad in garments that she had crafted with her own hand. It forged the bonds of her impending motherhood.
After their evening meal Rachel had left her for some time to attend to some chores. Jennifer was becoming mystified by Rachel’s absences on these undefined chores and Rachel herself seemed reticent about discussing them. For the life of her Jennifer could not think of anything that would require Rachel’s labour in the cellars. When asked about it Rachel had just murmured that she was helping out Sebastian with a few things. This made her tasks even more mysterious since Sebastian wasn’t present for the execution of these tasks. In fact during Rachel’s evening absence Sebastian had been helping Jennifer with her notes for her essay in his private chambers over a warm drink. Nor would Sebastian have allowed any task too taxing for Rachel in any case. He was fussing over Rachel in her pregnancy like an old hen and it was hard to see him allowing her any task that would have required more than the barest minimum of physical activity.
Jennifer sighed and tickled the big grey cat on her lap under the chin. Chester responded with an increased volume to his seemingly interminable purr. Chester had rapidly become Jennifer’s most devoted admirer. He followed her everywhere and jumped into her lap whenever she sat down. He’d even tried to follow her into their cell at night but Rachel had banished him ruthlessly and he’d wandered off with his tail twitching in irritation. This helpless devotion was a nuisance at times since he was so often underfoot that Jennifer had to be careful not to trip over him. Still it was difficult to be annoyed with such good natured and single-minded adoration.
Jennifer looked down at her naked body. The red stripes from her whipping that afternoon were fading although she could still feel the twinges from them now and again. She was feeling curiously in two minds about her whipping. It had hurt even more than she had expected but in its aftermath she had felt strangely elevated. Sebastian and Rachel had been wonderfully kind to her afterwards and Rachel had treated her weals with ointment whilst Sebastian had prepared their evening meal. It had been a moment of tenderness and Rachel had seemed very pleased with her for reasons that Jennifer couldn’t fathom. It had almost been worth her whipping for these hours of gentleness. Yet that fact alone couldn’t entirely explain the strange calm euphoria that Jennifer had experienced and eventually she’d asked Rachel about it. Over dinner Rachel had tried to explain the complex issues surrounding the use of controlled physical chastisement among people of the Line.
It went deeper than a simple disciplinary function she explained. It was an entire field of study in its own right with diverse physiological and psychological consequences. To begin with it was more than just a physical matter of pain. The stimulation of the body through physical pain actually had important chemical effects in the body’s nervous system. It released a whole cocktail of powerful natural d**gs within the body that Rachel called endorphins. These were complex neurotransmitters that in some ways resembled opiates in their effects. Endorphins were responsible for a whole range of diverse reactions and medical science was just beginning to realise their full significance. At their most basic endorphins were the body’s natural painkillers that were released into the bl**d stream in response to extreme stimulation. Yet it was more complex than that. Endorphins were released through sexual activity too and the post orgasmic “high” one experienced was a result of these chemicals in the bl**d. This was why a whipping could be both penal and sexual in nature. Pain and ecstasy were very closely linked. Athletes also experienced endorphin highs since high physical activity could also trigger the release of these chemicals.
In some ways exogenous d**gs hi-jacked this chemical process, which was why people became addicted to opiates. Certain endorphins attached themselves to so-called opioid receptors in the nervous system, the very receptors that morphine, for example, acted upon. In fact endorphin, as a word, was a contraction of endogenous morphine or natural internally produced morphine. Endorphins however had many other functions other than a mere analgesic effect. They created euphoric states and had definite psychological impacts. The close bonding between humans after coitus was being increasingly linked to the massive release of endorphins in the system. It was indisputable that endorphin production was a highly desirable condition. It was why people found substitutes for it in chemical d**gs.
Rachel had seemed uncomfortable at this point. She’d not been ready to concede a chemical foundation to the emotion of love. In Rachel’s opinion attributing love to endorphins was a bit like putting the cart before the horse. People in love certainly released endorphins in each other but were they in love because of those chemicals or did they seek to stimulate those chemicals because they were in love? In other words were they the cause or the product of the state? Whatever the truth Rachel was prepared to concede that the complex interplay of these powerful chemicals played an important part in a human being’s physiological and psychological well being. Endorphins reduced stress, had positive cardio-vascular properties and significant gastric benefits for example. Endorphins were good for you. People in love were generally healthier and more balanced mentally. The continuous release of such natural chemicals added up to a greater sense of well being.
To Alpha Sensual human beings, with their more highly developed and sensitive nervous systems, endorphins were very powerful and necessary modulators within the system. Without them sensory overwhelm was eminently possible and it had been shown that endorphin production was much higher among Alpha Sensuals than was usual among other human beings. There were studies suggesting that the intense degree of inter bonding between Alpha Sensuals was a direct result of this chemical reality. Sensitive people always required more loving and this was intensified among Alpha Sensuals. It was also, as Rachel had pointed out, why Alpha Sensuals, placed such high emphasis on extreme physical stimulation. Whipping a person sent their endorphin count off the scale. The curious tranquillity and elevated awareness that you often experienced after being whipped was a result of this.
But it was a vulnerable time too Rachel had explained. A person that had just been whipped required a great deal of loving or would be left in a sort of endorphin vacuum with no focus for their feelings. This was why you were quick to cuddle somebody after you had punished them. One day Rachel had predicted, Jennifer would have slaves of her own. It was important to remember that you most showed them your love for them immediately after you had punished them. In this way the bond between Mistress or Master and slave was cemented and the relationship forged in love. It was one of the ways by which the Line formed such unbreakable ties among its people. There was a whole psychology in the acceptance of submission and the responsibility of domination. Alpha Sensual people had utilised this practise for hundreds if not thousands of years. Only in relatively modern days had the principles begun to filter down into mainstream society. Whole new life-styles had begun to emerge around some derivation of Alpha Sensual culture. There were people that led parodies of the sexual, slave relationships that were the common form of practise among Alpha sub-cultures. Occasionally these were dangerously abusive but nevertheless there seemed to be a growing sense of responsibility among them and a welcome sense that such life-styles were addressing some need among people inclined toward them even if the term “slave” had a purely sexual context and not the greater meanings of mutual personal responsibility endorsed by the Line.
“Do you mean sadomasochism Rachel?” Jennifer had asked.
“Yes.” she’d replied, “Although the term is an unfortunate one. It’s a compound word constructed from the supposedly most famous advocates of the practise; the Frenchman, the Marquis de Sade and the Austrian, Leopold Ritter von Sacher-Masoch. Both of them wrote quite shocking works about the practise but in neither case would you have considered them very inspiring role models for such a life style. Sade himself was a monster and Masoch was a manipulative bastard that bullied his own wife into fulfilling his own sexual fantasies. I think if either of them had been born to the Line their families would have quietly taken them down to the river and drowned them in c***dhood. It’s a real pity that an entire field of human activity with such profound implications has had to be tainted by the title granted to it by such a pair of scumbags like that!”
“But we are still talking about the usage of corporal punishment as a sexual stimulant aren’t we?”
“Yes of course. I think most slaves of the Line recognise the sexual bond between themselves and their owner. This is a bond reinf***ed by the slave’s willingness to be subjected to physical discipline. Don’t forget that the slave’s consent is very important here. If you merely chain somebody up and beat them against their will you are not forming the bonds of slavery recognised by the Line. You are merely abusing them. It would be possible to break somebody’s will in that way and enslave them but they would hate you forever. The Line would not consider such a person a true slave. The authorities of the Line have traditionally fought against such slavery. It is an abuse of the condition to our way of thinking. We form our bondage of slavery on the foundations of love. Our voluntary subjection to the lash is our demonstration of our love of our owners in many respects. It also demonstrates our complete trust in our owners in that we trust them not to abuse the privilege of our subjection.”
“Is this why I am being beaten every day?”
“Yes Jennifer. You are being beaten really to demonstrate quite clearly that you are a slave and are therefore obliged to accept your beatings. You are being imprisoned to demonstrate the same thing. Since these are things imposed upon you by your Mistress you should welcome them gladly. You received a fair few whip marks today Jenny. You should feel pleased about them. The only things you are wearing over your flesh at the moment are your fetters and your whip marks. These are the marks of your Mistress’s ownership. You should wear them with pride.”
“So a punishment is a reward as well in some ways?”
“That’s very true Jenny. I remember once that I really screwed up and protested the regime I was under. The Lady punished me by withdrawing all disciplinary regulations against me. I was simply allowed to do what I wanted. She simply ignored me whilst maintaining strict controls over the other girls. To begin with I felt very clever with myself as if I’d managed to get away with it but the longer it went on the more I felt excluded and alone. The other girls would be excited about a day out they had been granted and spend ages making themselves look attractive before presenting themselves to the Lady and being allowed to leave the Hall. I could just walk in and out as I felt, looking like a tramp if I wanted or for all she cared. I wasn’t required to serve the Lady or even be present for meals if I didn’t feel like it. After three weeks of that I was desperate. I was completely alienated in the Hall and it was made clear that I was at liberty to leave if I wanted to do so. I don’t think that was an option in fact. The Lady was playing a very careful game with me and was certain that I wouldn’t run away but she frightened me into thinking that she couldn’t care less if I did. After four weeks I crawled on my hands and knees before her and begged to be punished. She stripped me down and gave me one hell of a thrashing! But then she forgave me and I was absurdly happy to be back in her favour.”
“She did something like that with me Rachel. On Friday she gave me the option of leaving the Hall or being caned and being allowed to stay.”
“And of course you chose the latter option as she knew you would. The Lady knows what you are made of! She’s a wise woman Jenny. She hasn’t built an empire of devotion on the inability to figure out what’s going on in her little slaves’ minds! I’ll bet she made you ask politely for your caning too.”
“Yes. Yes she did.”
“I’ll tell you a secret that isn’t much of a secret Jenny. We all bitch about it and whinge when we’re up for a beating but there’s not a slave that ever graced the Hall that would want it otherwise. If the Lady told us that we would never be beaten again we would be devastated! I know I would. Some of the best memories I have are of those occasions when the Lady took it upon herself to personally administer my punishment. One game she likes to play with us is to make ourselves award ourselves our own punishment. She’ll make you go away for a couple of days after you’ve committed some sin and then come back and prescribe exactly what punishment with what instrument you wish to receive. When I’ve talked to the other girls about this we’ve decided that we invariably impose a harsher punishment on ourselves than she would have done. You can figure out the psychology of that one yourself!”
“Do we really enjoy being punished then?”
“Depends on the punishment of course. If you’re asking do we enjoy being whipped, well the deep truth is probably yes. It might hurt like hell at the time and we may feel pretty miserable about it but deep down I suspect we all crave it. You got a fairly sound whipping this afternoon and you’ve been purring like Chester there ever since. Would you care to answer your own question?”
“Well it did hurt. But I got well quite… you know… quite…”
“Horny? Randy? Turned on like a 200-watt light bulb? Ready to take on the Regiment? Really Jenny! You surprise me!”
“Isn’t that normal then?”
“Of course it’s normal! I’m like a bitch on heat with the benefit of a good hiding! Nothing strange about that Jenny. Lots of girls experience orgasm whilst being whipped. You’ll find that Alpha girls often play among themselves like that. The Lady keeps her eye on that though in case it gets out of hand. It’s not unknown for people to really injure each other if it gets too frenzied. She’s a great believer in regular whippings for her slaves just to let the head of steam off. Alphas are so downright sexually aroused all the time that they can quite easily go overboard on occasion. You’ll find that a lot of your training will be about keeping your own sexual impulses under control. They can be downright dangerous otherwise.” Jennifer found it all rather confusing but by no means an alien concept. That the administration of punishment within a loving relationship was not only acceptable but also desirable she could well understand. She had much the same sort of relationship with her beloved Julie. That brought her to another thought.
“Rachel I’ve written a letter to Julie but how do I send it?” It was the only means of communication possible. Jennifer was denied the use of a telephone or a computer line even if she’d known how to use one.
“Give it to me honey and I’ll pass it on to Rebecca in the morning to deliver. What have you written to her?”
“Nothing much. I’ve just told her that I’m all right and not to worry about me. That I love her and miss her.” It was all Jennifer could write. Julie was not very good with the written word and the rather c***dish and poorly written letter that Jennifer had received was little more than a clumsy declaration of undying love. There was little of finesse or even much sense to it yet Jennifer could discern Julie’s underlying anxiety in it. Jennifer had simply attempted to compose a letter of reassurance although she was by no means sure that Julie would be reassured were she to know the full extent of Jennifer’s current position at the Hall. As such Jennifer had mentioned nothing about her incarceration in the cellars and instead merely suggested that she was confined to the buildings for the week.
“I was talking to Rebecca about Julie this morning.” Rachel told her.
“Oh really?”
“Yes Jennifer. You really have some issues there to be sorted out don’t you?”
“Issues?”
“Yes Jenny. Don’t be obtuse! You know what I’m talking about. There are issues about what exactly your relationship with Julie is going to be. How is that relationship compatible with your status as a slave of this House?”
“I love her! The Lady has given me permission to remain as Julie’s girlfriend!”
“Whoa Jenny! Don’t get all worked up! I’m not forbidding your relationship with her. I’m just saying that you have to give careful thought to how you are going to proceed with that relationship. Remember as an Alpha you may have very different ideas about what constitutes a relationship than a non Alpha Jenny. Julie isn’t even eighteen yet. You might be just a young girl’s crush. Nevertheless you are a powerful Alpha and you can easily bind Julie into a very intense relationship. There may come a time when you must ask yourself if that is in Julie’s best interests especially since you are pulling her into an extended relationship involving other people Jennifer. Sometimes a true act of love Jenny is knowing when to let somebody go. You might have to do that.”
“The Lady said something similar Rachel.”
“She’s wise Jennifer. You ought to listen to her.”
“I know she is wise but she can’t know everything Rachel. I’ve committed myself to Julie and I can’t just turn around and forget that commitment.”
“The commitment might not be as strong on Julie’s part as your own Jenny.”
“I don’t believe that!”
“Look all young people have these rushes of hormones when they believe themselves in love for ever more. They normally last a few weeks or months Jenny. Alphas though are different. They form very quick and very solid lasting bonds. It is not at all uncommon for very young Alphas in their maturation years to form relationships that can last lifetimes. The intensity of their devotions to their loved ones is dramatic and life altering. Another of the many reasons why young Alphas are better off in slavery is that they have mentors to control with whom they form relationships with.” Rachel frowned “Blast it! I’ve dropped a stitch now! Anyway it’s by no means a bad idea Jenny. I think society, as a whole would be far better off if all young people were subjected to greater restraints on their personal relationships. Most teenagers make pretty rotten choices in their selection of mates. Eastern cultures have far more sensible guidelines to this sort of thing. I wish that our own culture hadn’t lost the sort of parental responsibility and control that would enable its c***dren to come to wise decisions about who to spend the rest of their lives with. Maybe the divorce statistics and teenage pregnancies figures wouldn’t be quite so scary in that case.” Rachel sighed, “It’s not the k**s’ fault for the most part. I think many of them are calling out in the darkness for somebody to put some order and discipline into their lives but their parents and society have failed them. Remember what I was saying earlier? I was going Doolally after four weeks of the removal of restraints from me. Goddess knows what it does to a person to never have them, to grow up without ever feeling the comfort of somebody else making the decisions for you when you are least capable of doing it for yourself. You’d be cast out into a void without a clue about how to deal with it. No wonder our society is a mess. I wouldn’t be cruel enough to raise a dog the way society seems to accept the raising of its c***dren nowadays.”
“You’re changing the subject Rachel!”
“Yes I know but you’re a bit stubborn on this one Jenny. I’m just frightened that you’re seeing your relationship with Julie through the eyes of rapidly maturing Alpha Sensual and not standing back to consider whether or not this is a mutually benevolent relationship. Now you are forming a bond with Rebecca and there I have to cheer you on. She’s a spiritual s****r if you like and I’d see no dangers in such a relationship. If you forged a thing with Abigail or the twins or any other girl or Alpha male of this House then I could see no problem. But Julie is a different scenario Jenny. Julie comes from simple village stock. Within that context she can grow up into a well respected and loved person of the village community. You already told me that her parents envisage her, one day, taking over the business. You thought that wasn’t good enough for her. Ask yourself if you are not putting the same expectations on her as on yourself. Perhaps you wouldn’t be content to be a village shopkeeper but that doesn’t mean for a second that it is unsuitable for Julie. She could live a happy and fulfilled life doing just that. What about marriage and c***dren? Would she settle down with a good solid man whilst involved with a relationship with you? Is it fair on her to be the one non Alpha in an extended marriage?”
“You told me before that Alphas marry non Alphas all the time!”
“And so they do Jennifer. But it is always a difficult decision and especially one for somebody, such as yourself, of a high bl**dline and affiliated with a Great House such as this one. Don’t get me wrong Jenny. I’m not saying that your relationship with Julie is wrong. I’m advising great caution that’s all. Don’t be angry about this. I’m just duty bound to caution you. Do you understand?”
“Yes Rachel. Perhaps you are right but nevertheless I remain committed to Julie. I’m sorry but I can’t help it. I know that my being a slave of this House might make things awkward but one of the reasons that I agreed to my slavery was because it enabled me to remain in Mathomdale and thus close to Julie. I have sworn that I will not let Mathom Hall come between us Rachel. Would you have be untrue to my word? You can’t have been pounding the principles of integrity and honour into me for the past two days and expect that of me!”
“No Jenny I don’t suppose so. You can be a mule headed little madam sometimes!” Rachel folded away her knitting. “Well let’s leave it at that for the moment shall we? Let’s get to bed. You have an appointment with the doctor in the morning.”
“Whatever for? There’s nothing wrong with me is there?”
“Not that I’m aware of honey. It’s just a formality. Every new slave of this House has to undergo a thorough medical examination. Your Mistress just wants to see if she’s invested her money in good sound stock.”
“Where will this examination be?”
“Down here Jenny. We have a small but fully equipped clinic down past the bath chamber. The Doctor’s coming down here at about ten o’clock. OK?”
“Yes Rachel.”
“Good! Now put your books away and come to bed. Let’s see if we can make the endorphins roam shall we?”
__________________________________________________________________________
... Continue»
Posted by Mikebasil 2 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Lesbian Sex  |  Views: 915  |  
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Slaves of the Amethyst (part f******n)



Thursday morning dawned grey and overcast and there had been rain overnight. From the windows of Waterstone House the view was unappealing. The outside was dark and damp and a light drizzle streaked the windowpanes. It didn’t seem likely to be a day that would inspire adventures out of doors. Debra was disappointed at that for she’d wanted to get out with Julie in the afternoon and explore the countryside around Marveaux. On an optimistic note the weather forecast had predicted a change for the better the next day and hopefully their planned excursion would be able to take place. It might even brighten up somewhat later today she hoped. Julie didn’t mind the poor weather at all however because she was having fun. What might seem routine daily chores to Debra were a novelty to Julie and her somewhat bizarre position as a temporary personal slave, albeit under false pretences, was enormous fun. It was not, as Debra had said, Mathom Hall and, if Julie had found herself as a pretender in that establishment, she would have been terrified of being unmasked. But it was still a grand house of respectable lineage and the household just seemed to accept that she was a young lady of the valley, a, what was the term Jennifer had used, a young lady of the Line, a slave in training, possibly up for sale to the highest bidder to be taken in as a pampered favourite into some grand house or other. It was just wickedly funny to Julie and she was determined to extract the full amount of enjoyment from her charade.
It wasn’t as if Julie had deliberately misled anybody or told any lies. On the contrary she was just her normal self, enjoying a temporary role above her humble station. She was experiencing the life, that Rebecca and the other girls at Mathom Hall, and one that Jennifer was to become accustomed to, on a somewhat smaller scale and finding that she liked her elevated status very much indeed. It was the same feeling that she experienced when appearing in public with Jennifer and the Mathom Hall girls when people tacitly included you among their number, the ladies curtsied and the men bowed and tipped their caps to you. You were part of an elite hierarchy in the valley. Julie had long had fantasies about such an inclusion into those respected ranks when, if you walked into the pub, the bargirl would say “Thank you for blessing our house with the Goddess my lady.” instead of “Now then Julie wot are yer ‘avin’!” Now Julie was living that fantasy temporarily and, if it at present only extended to something as mundane as making toast and preparing a bowl of g****fruit segments, it was still deliciously exciting. Debra was busily whisking eggs in a big bowl with great seriousness and looking cute in her silly little white and pink flowered pinafore over her pretty green dress.
“Pass me the Worcester sauce would you Julie?” she was saying. “The Mistress likes a dab of it in her scrambled eggs in a morning. You’ve got to whisk the eggs up properly too. She likes her eggs soft and fluffy so you have to make sure you get plenty of air into them.” Debra consulted the menu list that was specified for this morning. “Now what does she want for cereal? Oh flip! Muesli! I hope to hell we’ve got some in the house! She’ll be bl**dy not amused if we haven’t! I think I ordered some last time. Look in that cupboard just up to your right Julie and see if we’ve got a packet.”
“Aye ‘ere we are Debbie.”
“Thank the Goddess for that! Now then how’s that coffee coming along?”
“Coming along Debbie.”
“Well keep it warm in the percolator until I’ve got the eggs cooked. She likes just a dab of chocolate powder in her coffee and that should be in the cupboard with the cereals. Also she’ll want cream in her coffee. There’re silver jugs in that sideboard and fresh cream in the far fridge. I’ve put a tray for the coffee out, so you be laying that out with cup, saucer, teaspoon, sugar bowl, cream and the coffee pot whilst I put the eggs on. The food goes on the other tray. She’ll want four slices of toast. Damn it have we got lemon marmalade?”
“I saw some in that cupboard there Debbie.”
“Brill! Get one of those little bowls and spoon some out into it Julie and put a little spoon into it.” Debra was transferring the whisked eggs into a hot pan as Julie busily prepared her part of the lady of the household’s morning repast. “You’ve got to get it right Julie. She’s like a bull with three horns until she’s had her breakfast. Get it spot on and she’s purring like a kitten for the rest of the morning. Get it wrong and she’s in a foul mood and that usually means bad news for any wayward slave that happens to cross her path during the course of the morning. More than once I’ve ended up with a sore backside because the coffee was too bitter or her bl**dy kipper was cold or something!”
“Bit demandin’ isn’t she?”
“Not at all Julie. She’s the Lady of the house. She pays through the nose to keep us in pampered luxury, takes care of our every need, protects us and takes care of our futures. She takes the trouble to see that we are not wanting for anything so the very least we can do is provide her with perfect service in return. It’s not as if we’re overworked or anything. The few responsibilities we do have should be well within our capabilities. Ok! Eggs are nearly ready. Bung the toast in the rack. That butter should be soft by now. She hates it when the butter is too hard to spread on her toast!” Fussily the two girls set up the trays for Mrs Waterstone’s breakfast. Debra ran a critical eye over everything as she spooned the eggs onto a plate and garnished them with a sprig of parsley. “OK, looks fine. Let’s get it in there. I’ll go in first with the breakfast tray. You follow me with the coffee and the morning papers. Let’s have a quick look at you.” Debra perused Julie carefully. Julie was in a becoming soft white skirt and a pretty rose coloured top that matched her hair ribbon and gave her a fresh youthful appearance. Julie was bemused that Debra had insisted on her looking her best. She was more used to jumping into a pair of faded jeans or a tracksuit bottom and t-shirt for breakfast but that was a no-no in the Waterstone household as Debra explained. The lady needed to feast her eyes with her breakfast and liked to see her young slaves looking pretty and well turned out first thing in the morning. Her slaves were as much ornamental as anything else and as such they were expected to be suitably attractive ornaments to brighten up their Mistress’s morning.
“Right you look just fine Julie. Now remember how to curtsy very slightly when you bring the coffee in. Don’t over exaggerate it or you’ll have coffee everywhere! Just a little curtsy then lay down the tray, smile and curtsy again as you wish her good morning. Once she acknowledges you then ask nicely if you can pour her coffee for her. If she wants you to hang around then do so. If she dismisses you then curtsy again, say that you hope she enjoys her breakfast and wish her good morning. Always address her as ma-am, milady or mistress. Always give her a nice smile unless she tells you off for anything at which point don’t argue just look humble and penitent. All right?”
“We ‘ave gone ovver this all before Debbie!”
“I’m sorry Julie! I just want you to be perfect for my Mistress! It’s so much fun having you around and helping when I have work to do! I want her to buy you! I’d love to have you as my s****r!”
Julie laughed in pleasure “Come along then or ‘er breakfast’ll be gerrin’ cold!” In great delight the two girls carried their burdens to Mrs Waterstone’s boudoir where she habitually broke her fast. Balancing her tray on one arm Debra knocked at the door. A soft voice bade them enter. The lady of the house was not fully dressed. She was reclining on a stool before her dressing table in an ankle length smoky grey negligee and a pair of slippers. Julie noticed what a fine looking woman she was, tall and slim with shapely legs and a firm bosom beneath the gossamer sheath of her negligee. She was teasing at her wavy hair with a brush.
“Good morning girls!”
“Good morning ma-am.” they replied curtsying prettily.
“Bung the trays on the table there girls. Is that the mail Debra?”
“Yes ma-am.” said Debra curtsying once again. “Official looking letters for the most part ma-am but there’s a personal letter from Scotland.”
“Ah that’ll be from Andrew!” Eleanor turned to look at her two young attendants with great pleasure. They looked lovely this morning and it was always a highlight for her morning’s routine to see how her young slaves dressed and carried themselves for her pleasure. It was the real bright spot in the otherwise dull affairs of managing her household, a moment of fond pride and enjoyment. Today however, her enjoyment was doubled because of the pretty looks and vivacious personality of little Julie Hawthorne. The more Eleanor saw of Julie the more she liked her. The girl had such an unquenchable zest for life. She always seemed to be on the point of bubbling over with enthusiasm. She was polite and respectful to be true but there always seemed to be that irrepressible spirit threatening to break out. Almost certainly she would be a girl forever getting into mischief and misadventure over one thing or another but Eleanor found that more a blessing than anything else. She liked her girls with a bit of spirit and sass to them. It kept life interesting, brought a feeling of youth into the household. She had trouble keeping a straight face whenever talking to Julie. The girl was so ingenuous and her good humour so infectious that it tickled Eleanor’s sense of humour. Anybody that brought laughter into the house was worth their weight in gold.
Moreover Julie had a totally beneficent effect on Debra. Eleanor had been lucky to get Debra she knew. She was of a high line and by no means cheap. Under normal circumstances Debra would have been sold to a much more wealthy f****y. However Debra’s f****y was in dispersal and Eleanor had known Debra’s mother well. Debra’s mother had been keen to sell Debra to Eleanor quite early but her contract price was very high. Debra’s mother had, quite rightly, argued that it would be unfair to lower Debra’s status by agreeing on too low a price for her. It was true that the connection of Waterstone House to the House of Mathom in itself would confer great status on her daughter but she also wanted her to be well settled financially as well. Lady Mathom had solved it by advancing a loan to Eleanor to acquire Debra. Eleanor had used the loan wisely. She had agreed with Debra’s mother to buy the contract when Debra had been thirteen but the actual fee was placed in a fund to accumulate interest until Debra could be legitimately enslaved after her eighteenth birthday. As a result of her wise investments in Debra’s fee she had mostly returned the loan to Lady Mathom and yet was able to donate the agreed upon fee whilst retaining a substantial amount for Debra’s education and future prospects. Since she had been instrumental in Eleanor’s acquisition of Debra, Lady Mathom had taken a great deal of interest in her and always grilled Eleanor regarding her whenever the two met. Lady Mathom was pleased to hear that Debra was turning out to be a wise investment and one likely to be a great asset to the status of the Waterstone line.
Nevertheless the financial burden of acquiring Debra had left little in the way of funds for further additions to the household. That, as we have seen, was a worry because Debra indubitably needed a s****r of equal age to her. It simply wasn’t healthy to bring up a highly sensitive thoroughbred young Alpha girl without a suitable companion. And Debra’s shy and introspective nature made the problem even more urgent. It would be a year or so at the least before Eleanor judged that Debra would be ready to go to university and with Sandra and Andrea approaching marriageable status then Debra was likely to become more isolated than ever. The negotiations for Sandra and Andrea’s marriages were likely to be protracted moreover so there wasn’t the immediate prospect of additional funds from that quarter. Eleanor thought she had found the perfect answer to her dilemma in Julie Hawthorne.
The evening before Eleanor had required the two girl’s presence for some time in the front parlour just so she could observe them together. Debra seemed to emerge from her shell in the presence of the bouncing Julie and Eleanor had seldom seen her so happy and excited. She could understand it. Julie was just good to have around. Julie had a sweet singing voice although her repertoire of songs was a bit on the rustic side. Eleanor had asked Debra to play the songs on the piano whilst Julie sang them and the two girls had often dissolved into giggles whenever they had hit a wrong note or lost the cadence. Eleanor had seldom seen Debra laugh so much. The evening had been enjoyable and there was an atmosphere of gaiety that had been long lacking in the house. The girls had come to say goodnight to her in their nightclothes before retiring to bed. Eleanor had smiled at that. Debra had worn a pretty cotton nightgown but Julie had been attired in silly pink pyjamas with c***dish bunny slippers. She’d insisted on kissing them both goodnight and when Julie had pecked her on the cheek it had almost felt as if the young girl was already her slave.
She wondered if they were already lovers. It was certainly to be desired and to that end she had had an extra bed made up in Debra’s room for Julie knowing that it was more than likely that one of them would climb into bed with the other. She hadn’t yet perceived an intimacy of lovers about them yet but it would probably happen. If not then there were tried and trusted old fashioned ways to make it happen. A wise mistress always made sure that her slaves were sl**ping with each other. That way you kept them healthy, happy and tied to their household. Julie’s contract would be far easier to negotiate if she was already entangled in intimacy with Debra.
Actually Eleanor’s manoeuvring had so far only been partially successful. The girls had indeed crawled into bed with each other but, although they had hugged and cuddled each other, they had stopped short of sex. Debra had become aroused and had started to stroke Julie languidly but Julie had objected. She hadn’t actually rejected Debra but said “Oh Debbie love. Y… yer’ll think I’m barmy but I… I can’t! Don’t get us wrong love! Ah think yer gorgeous an’ I’d love to…. to … you know! It’s just that well … wi’ out Jenny’s say so I feel like I’m cheatin’ on ‘er or summat! If’n Jenny sez it’s ok then I’ll be t’ first ter turn t’ bed upside down but what wi’ ‘er not bein’ ‘ere an’ not able to say owt well it’s like me bein’ unfaithful. Yer don’t mind d’ yer? Don’t be angry wi’ us love!”
“I’m not angry Julie! I understand! Really I do! Don’t be upset. It’s just nice to snuggle up with you in bed anyway. I nearly always have to sl**p alone except when my Mistress has me share her bed.”
“Yer mean yer sl**p wi yer Missus?” Julie was shocked.
“Very rarely but sometimes she likes me to.”
“And does she… yer know.”
“Not usually. She just likes having me near her sometimes, warming her bed and keeping her company. She can get lonely too sometimes. Most of her f****y are s**ttered around all over the place and she doesn’t get to see them very often.”
“But ‘ave yer…. ?”
“Only once or twice she’s had me satisfy her. Don’t be so shocked Julie! Most Mistresses enjoy the pleasure of their slaves occasionally. The lady doesn’t usually approve of sexual relations between Mistresses and slave normally. Says it undermines the proper relationship between them and can be exploitive. Still she has needs like anybody else and occasionally she’ll take a slave to bed for pleasure.”
“Blimey! And yer don’t mind?”
“She’s my Mistress Julie. She owns me! If she wants the use of my body then that’s her privilege. She only has to command and I am obliged to put my body at her disposal.”
“Sod me! D’ yer… I mean… d’ yer like it?”
“Oh yes! She’s my honoured Mistress. I feel proud and happy, flattered when she finds me attractive enough to satisfy her needs. Her wives and husbands are hardly ever there so I’m pleased to be able to gratify her longings when she needs it. I’m there to serve her. It’s no different from me bringing her coffee and brandy. The last time she wanted me to do it she was ever so sweet to me afterwards and bought me a present the next day for being so good. She takes Andrea and Sandra more than me because they’re older, and she’s worried about abusing her position with me since I’m so young, but if she wanted me more I’d be happy to oblige.”
Julie had stroked Debra’s hair thoughtfully in the dark of the bedroom “By eck Debbie! Yer a funny lass!” Julie had chuckled suddenly “Mind you if’n I were yer Mistress yer’d never be out o’ me bed!”
Debra’s hopes had raised and she’d laid a hand on Julie’s thigh “Oh well if you want to then milady!”
Julie’d had laughed “Now now Debbie! I’m sorry love, but wot ah said before still goes. I promise yer though that if our Jen sez it’s all right then t’ next time we’ll pick up from where we left off be’ind Marveaux Abbey t’ other day! Will yer be patient till then love?”
“Of course Julie!” Debra had cuddled closer to Julie in deep pleasure “Oh I do hope my Mistress buys you Julie! Then we can share a bed every night.” Presently she’d drifted off into peaceful slumber but Julie had lain awake a long time after, holding the sl**ping girl in her arms, with the ache in her loins unsatisfied and all the strange new thoughts in her head spinning wildly.
Eleanor Waterstone perused the two girls with increasing pleasure. The day promised to be a trying one and she had to go into town once again to finish off some business but at least the two fresh looking youngsters had brightened up the gloomy morning considerably. “You look very pretty today girls!” she told them. Debra and Julie blushed with pride.
“Why thank you ma-am!” answered Debra on their account.
“Yes very pleasant. I like you in soft colours Julie. Hmm! I saw a pretty dress in a shop in town yesterday that would suit you perfectly. If I get a moment sometime, and they have it in your size, I must remember to buy it for you!”
“Oh ma-am! Yer mustn’t!” Julie protested.
“Nonsense! It will look lovely on you. Now then what have you two got planned for today?”
Debra answered. “We have the silver and brass work to do in the front parlour ma-am. Then we can polish the panelling in the oak room once we’ve finished that. Also I promised Sandra and Andrea that I’d iron their blouses and some other things for them.”
“Hmmph! Don’t be doing all their work for them! They’ve got time enough to press their own clothes! They’ve been getting too lazy recently! I’ll have to take the strap to them one of these days! I won’t have them farming out all their chores to you!”
“I don’t mind honestly ma-am. It’s a horrid day and we won’t be able to get out of the house much.”
“Well it might brighten up a bit later. I’ll be away most of the day so if you get all your chores done get out for a bit of fresh air. You can show Julie around a little bit. She doesn’t know this end of the valley as well as the lower valley and she ought to see more of it. I’ll still be here for lunch and I’ll take that in here because I’ve a lot of work to catch up on. After that I’m away into town. I won’t be back for dinner so, once you’ve finished up what you have to do, you’ve the rest of the afternoon and evening off. Be back by nine o’clock all right!”
“Yes ma-am.”
“I would have liked to take the pair of you with me today but I’ve got all sorts of tedious meetings to attend and it wouldn’t really be convenient. Tomorrow’s another matter however. Perhaps if the weather shapes up we can drive into town and do some shopping. You could do with some new clothes Debra and we can pick up that dress for you Julie and anything else that might be suitable. We could take tea at the Royal and make a day of it. Julie doesn’t have to be home until Sunday so we’ve plenty of time. How does that sound?”
“Oh wonderful ma-am!” Debra cried in delight.
“Excellent! Will your parents be home on Sunday afternoon Julie?”
“Aye… I mean yes ma-am!”
“Good! Perhaps if it’s convenient I’d like to have a chat with them.”
“Y… yes ma-am!” Julie’s heart was fluttering. Life was getting complicated all of a sudden.
“Yes I think perhaps we might be able to do business. Now run along you two and get your breakfast.” The two girls curtsied and left.
Debra was wildly excited. “I knew it! I just knew it! She’s going to buy you Julie! You’re going to be my s****r! Oh I’m so happy!”
“’Ere ‘ang about Debbie! Don’t go ovver board! Me mam an’ dad might ‘ave summat ter say about it yer know!” Julie cringed at the thought of the upcoming interview between Mrs Waterstone and her parents. She could just hear her mother now “Yer want ter do what Mrs Waterstone? Buy our Julie!? Ah think yer might be under some misapprehension ma-am! Now ah know that’s t’ custom like fer young ladies wot’s born ter t’ Lady o’ t’ valley an’ all but our Julie’s just an ordinary lass ma-am. She’s no Jenny Walstow! Just plain ordinary stock! Nowt special about ‘er at all!”
Debra looked troubled “Why Julie. I know it’s not Mathom Hall and all that but this is still a very respected House and affiliated to the House of Mathom. A slave of the Waterstone House has very high credentials and status Julie. You’d be a young lady of the second great house in Mathomdale! Surely your parents would consider a good offer from this House. After all you’d be close by and it’s not as if you were being sold out of the valley.” She paused “Do you think that your parents are holding out for a better offer from somewhere else?”
Julie swallowed “Ah…. Ah don’t think there’s any other upcomin’ offers Debbie!” she prevaricated.
“Well then! Your parents will be bound to consider a good offer from the Lady Eleanor. Oh wow Julie! Just think! A whole day’s shopping in town tomorrow! I bet she spends a fortune on us! She likes her slaves well turned out and she doesn’t skimp when it comes to outfitting them. Goddess! It’s going to be so much fun!”
Julie’s mind was in turmoil. “Well anyway let’s get us some brekkers Debbie love!”
“Yes I’m famished!” Debra’s enthusiasm was not to be dampened. “Do you want tea or coffee s*s?”
At Mathom Hall it was a morning of departures. Alice and Daniel left in the morning after a fond farewell to Rebecca and Robin and kissing their Mistress and promising to return as soon as Alice had finished her photo shoot in Hamburg. There was also a departure in the cellars. Jennifer was devastated. Her last love making with Rachel had been lingering and sweet. Rebecca and Alice had finally departed the evening before to greet their men folk back from the pub. It had been a lovely evening and Alice and Jennifer had unclipped the cuffs on the wrists from each other in great regret so that Alice could dress and leave with solemn promises to return as soon as possible. When Rebecca and Alice had left them with long kisses Rachel had gathered Jennifer up in her arms and swept her away to their little cell to drive her delirious with passion by the light of the candles on the walls. They’d made love for hours and collapsed into blissful sl**p satiated. In the morning the routine had not altered much. Jennifer still got her spanking with the paddle. There’d still been the obligatory course of exercises but after that Rachel had vanished for some time whilst Jennifer had studied a handbook on the Harvard referencing system, provided by Sebastian. When she had returned Rachel had been wearing a smart grey day suit of skirt and jacket over a frilled white blouse, dark stockings and high heeled black shoes and Jennifer’s heart had torn in two.
“Oh you’re leaving already Rachel!”
“Yes Jenny. I have to get off now. Don’t look so glum honey. We’ll see each other soon enough. You’re to report to me at least once a week for the rest of the summer sweetheart. You’ve got some assignments to finish off and I shall be monitoring your progress. Remember just because I’m not there doesn’t mean you can slack off! There’re plenty of suitable instruments to tender to your pretty backside both here and in my house when you report so bear it in mind!”
“Am I to stay here then?” Jennifer had wept bitterly.
“Yes Jenny. Don’t worry you won’t be on your own for long. You have some nice surprises coming to you over the next couple of days. Now come along! Cheer up! Is this a way for a slave of the House of Mathom to comport herself?”
“Oh I’m going to miss you Rachel!”
Rachel had folded her in her arms “There, there Jenny! I’m going to miss you too! Don’t be upset! We won’t be parted for long I promise you. I’m very proud of you Jenny. You’ve made fabulous progress this week. I shall be telling your Mistress that when I go upstairs and she’ll be proud of you too. You’ll be out of here soon and then you’ll see all your s****rs. They’re going to throw a big party for you when you move into your chambers upstairs so that’s something to look forward to isn’t it? Then you’ll be able to see Julie as well! So chin up my sweet! Life’s not all that bad!”
“Oh Rachel! It won’t seem the same without you here!”
“You’ll be just fine honey! Sebastian will look after you. Now give me a big kiss and let me go. I have to report to the Lady before I take off back home.” So Jennifer had kissed her and then she’d parted leaving Jennifer desolate in her loneliness in the cellars. Sebastian was kind to her but Jennifer was inconsolable in her grief at the parting. She sat in the dining chamber trying to study her handbook but her eyes were bleary with tears. Only the softly purring Chester curled up on her lap was any comfort to her sudden desperate loneliness. Sebastian brought her lunch and, because she was so utterly destitute, stayed with her whilst she ate offering words of comfort. In the afternoon she moped about not knowing what to do with herself. The ordered routine of her incarceration had come to an end. Rachel was not there to give her orders and set her tasks. She missed the strict structure Rachel had imposed on her life in the cellars. She wandered out to the garden but it was raining and cold so she spent most of the afternoon sat before the fire in the dining chamber feeling sorry for herself. It was almost welcome when Sebastian appeared and told her that it was time for her daily whipping. There seemed to be some order still in her life and, if Rachel was not there to comfort her afterwards and smear lotion on her weals, then at least Sebastian was not neglecting her. She calmly stood to accompany Sebastian to the whipping chamber. He surprised her though. After he clipped the cuffs on her wrists together in front of her he produced a blindfold and bound it about her eyes. Jennifer was confused and scared. It was the first time she had been denied vision since her first day in the cellars and it seemed to foretell some dreadful ordeal before her.
He led her out by her silver chain attached to her collar and she stumbled along afterwards trembling with fear. She didn’t know that Sebastian had other reasons for blindfolding her this day and, that for once they were nice reasons. There was a surprise waiting for her in the whipping chamber. Jennifer detected something in the chamber through her blindfold but she was at a loss to pin down the sensation that came to her. There was a familiar scent in the air but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Sebastian raised her wrists and she felt him attaching the chain from the ceiling to it. Her arms were raised as the chain tightened up pulled them over her head. She stumbled forward and straight into somebody else. That somebody was quite obviously female and as naked as she was. Jennifer gasped in recognition. Now she knew that scent. It was Rebecca’s favourite perfume.
“Hello darling! Surprised?”
“Oh Rebecca! What are you doing here?”
“Not a lot Jenny dearest! My hands are tied over my head to the roof and it tends to limit your scope for action.”
“Oh Becky I can’t see you!”
“I can’t see you either sweetheart! I’m blindfolded as well. Here we are! Just a miserable pair of slaves trussed up in the dungeons and awaiting their punishment! Now do I get a kiss or not?”
“Oh yes!” Jennifer sought out Rebecca’s mouth with her own and possessed it fiercely. Finally they broke for breath. “But Becky I don’t understand. Why are you here chained up with me?”
Sebastian cleared his throat in the background “I shall leave you two ladies alone for the moment. Undoubtedly there is much you wish to talk about privately. I shall return in due course.” His footsteps receded from the chamber.
“Becky! Becky why are you here? Have you done something wrong?”
“Probably my love but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I asked to be here. I’m spending the night with you. Is that all right?”
“Of course it is! I was feeling so lonely! I can’t believe that you’ve come down to be with me! Oh I love you so much! Did you really come just to keep me company?”
“Yes Jenny. It was something I very much wanted to do. I told you before that I wanted to share your prison and your chains with you darling. I love you. I want to be bound like this to you forever.” Rebecca pressed her body against Jennifer. Chains to the same pulley in the roof held up the two of them to each other and their bodies were in close and sweet contact. Jennifer sighed with the pleasure of Rebecca’s naked skin against her, the soft swell of her breasts against her own and the tickle of Rebecca’s long hair as she nuzzled at her neck.
“Oh Rebecca! This is the most wonderful thing that has happened to me all day! When Sebastian brought me here I thought I was just going to be whipped.”
“You are going to be whipped Jenny! We both are! Very, very hard! I asked that I could share your whipping! I want to be bound in pain to you! I want to share in your agony. I’ve wanted this for a long time Jenny! Everything that is yours I want to be mine also including your torment. I want to prove my love to you under the lash! I want my screams to mingle with yours. I want you to feel my body writhe against you in my agony. I want you to bury your face in my shoulder as the pain gets too much. I want you to be my wife! I want to forge our union in the sharing of our whip marks. From this day hence I want us to be united indeed, s****rs in torment, married by the kiss of the lash on our bodies.”
“Becky I’m scared!”
“So am I darling! But will you endure? Will you undergo this for me? Will you take me for your own in the heat of our pain darling? Will you cry out your love for me as the whip tortures your body?”
“Yes! Yes I will! By the Goddess I will take you for my own by the crack of the whip on my flesh! I swear it!”
“I love you Jennifer!”
“I love you too Rebecca!” And so they waited, talking softly, kissing frequently rubbing their bodies against each other until the ache of their longing became unbearable. In due course Sebastian returned to the chamber carrying a long, long whip and the two girls forged a bonding in pain and ecstasy that only death could tear asunder.
By the latter part of the afternoon the rain had abated and Debra and Julie were finally able to escape the confines of the house. In fact the late afternoon was quite pleasant and, seduced by the gently warming change of weather, the two of them were led into indiscretion. They left the house in exuberant merriment dressed in the clothes they had worn all day around the house and foolishly omitted the precaution of carrying overcoats or umbrellas. It was a bad mistake. The fickle climate was merely playing with them and the pause in the rain was simply a treacherous lull before the final act of spite the cold grey front had to inflict upon Mathomdale that evening.
The two girls were blissfully unaware of this as they walked about the countryside hand in hand however. Debra in fact had rarely felt so carefree. The whole day so far had been just wonderful. Her daily chores had never been so full of light and happiness. Julie’s presence had elevated the mundane into a pleasure and transformed a dull routine into an adventure of shared contentment. Debra was not the most garrulous of girls but she had surprised herself this day with her incessant chatter. Julie was just so easy to talk to. She’d told Julie about her aspirations and dreams as they rubbed metal polish onto the brass-work. She’d whispered secrets about her Mistress as they teased out the shine in the wood panelling in the oak room. She’d confessed her inner feelings as they prepared the table for her Mistress’s lunch. There’d been great joy in their conversations. Debra had never had such a close confidant. Increasingly she was becoming obsessed with the thought that her Mistress would buy Julie. They had served Eleanor her lunch on the stroke of twelve and as they had cleared the plates she had taken her leave of them fondly, insisting on kissing them both before taking the car and driving out of the valley. It was significant to Debra, that farewell kiss, inclusive as it was of Julie. There almost seemed an unspoken assumption that Julie was already her new s****r and the thought made Debra deliriously happy.
In truth, as far as Eleanor was concerned, Julie already was. She drove down the valley thoughtfully, by now determined to make an offer to the Hawthorne f****y for the young and exuberant little blond that had so impressed her. If her business today proved fruitful then there would be ample funds to present an offer that would convey great status on all concerned. She was concerned that Julie’s importance to the Hawthorne f****y business might be a stumbling block in the negotiations but she thought she knew how to deal with that. She could provide a solid investment in the Hawthorne shop and retail business and Julie could still manage its affairs as her commitments at Waterstone House allowed. There was the troubling question of Julie’s education to worry about. Eleanor had gathered that Julie had ceased her education at an early age. Very well then, she would offer to provide a sound post-compulsory education for the Hawthorne’s daughter, possibly a college course in business management or something. Julie seemed to have talents in that respect and it would be a mutually beneficial talent for her to acquire for all concerned. Julie’s potential acumen in the retail trade alone could ultimately repay the investment and then, with a possible marriage into the House of Mathom, the possibilities were endless. Of course Julie still had to come to an acceptance of her slavery but Eleanor was experienced in these matters and there were ways of accomplishing that desirable state of mind. All told the future seemed very rosy to Eleanor.
Debra and Julie ended up at the White Monk. They had walked long and carelessly through the upper valley and by six o’clock they were thirsty and in need of a rest. The cosy little pub by the abbey ruins had been a siren call. Now they were sat in a tiny little snug at the back of the pub and Julie was teaching the locals the futility of challenging her to a game of draughts. Draughts were c***d’s play to a girl who could play three-dimensional chess in her head and she routinely massacred any person foolish enough to take her on. Debra giggled and clapped her hands in delight as Julie’s tally of hapless victims grew and yet another vanquished hopeful was despatched to the bar to settle the stakes. Julie was teasing her prey mercilessly, luring them into believing they had a strong position before launching an annihilating counter attack and leaving them scratching their heads in bewilderment and delving into their pockets to pay for the round. Don Whitelaw, leaning against the bar, warned his friend, Jack Pierce “Don’t be after tekkin’ that young lass on Jack. She’ll murder thee! She’s ‘ad two rounds outer me an’ she wiped t’ board wi’ awd Arthur an’ there’s not many as can do that!”
“She’s a little cracker Don. D’ yer think she might be up fer playin’ fer ‘igher stakes?”
“It’d be your shirt she were off ‘ome wi Jack! Yer’d never get near ‘er drawers!”
“Well one can but ‘ope! I wonder what she’s like at darts!” Julie’s hand to eye co-ordination at darts was very nearly as good as her prowess on a snooker table as Jack Pierce was to learn to his cost. Julie’s dart had thumped with solid finality into the double sixteen whilst he was still struggling along with two hundred plus left on the board. Julie found few brave challengers after that display. After Julie’s sadder and wiser victims had left with their tails between their legs Debra hugged her excitedly.
“Oh Julie! You’re just fantastic! Did you see the looks on their faces? It was so funny!”
“Aye well at least we ‘aven’t ‘ad ter pay fer us drinks Debbie!”
“We’d better not have any more! I’m tipsy as it is!” At this point Debra was interrupted by a loud crash from without. “Goddess was that thunder?”
Julie peered out of the window. “Aye! bl**dy ‘ell it’s teamin’ it down!” Nightfall was beginning to set in and the rain was pelting against the windows.
“Oh Goddess!” squealed Debra in alarm “Look at the time! It’s nearly nine o’clock and we’re supposed to be back by nine!”
“We can’t walk back in this Debbie! We’ve no jackets wi us! We’d get soaked! It’s ‘eavin’ it down!”
“We… we’ll have to Julie! It’s twenty minutes walk back to the house and the Lady’s very strict about punctuality.”
“We’ll catch us death Debbie!”
“Oh damn! I wish I’d taken more notice of the time! We’ll be in awful trouble!”
“T’ Missus won’t expect us to walk back in this lot Debbie! Let’s wait awhile an’ see if it eases off.”
“Oh Julie! Why didn’t we bring an umbrella?” Debra was frantic with worry.
“Calm down love! As soon as it eases a bit we’ll mek a dash fer it.” In the event the rain appeared to have set in although without the venom of its first onslaught. Debra was biting her lip and when the clock approached ten o’clock she was nearly in tears. “All right Debbie! It’s not as ‘eavy as it was. Let’s mek a run fer it!” The two girls were soon flying along in the rain toward Waterstone House. The weather was cruel that evening however for no sooner were they a few minutes on their way when the rain increased in intensity to a drenching downpour. Within a few hundred yards they were soaked to the skin, their clothes hanging on them in sodden rags. To compound their misery Debra, in her haste, stumbled and fell on the dirt track leading across the fields and covered herself and Julie, who had to help her up, in mud. She was crying abjectly and shivering with cold.
“Come on pet!” Julie encouraged her “Not far now!” The last dash was an exercise in sheer wretchedness for the two girls and the warming lights of the big house beyond the last turn were an oasis of salvation as they ran toward them. Once in the hallway they stood and shivered, clutching the wreckage of their clothing about their bodies, and leaving pools of water on the floor. Eleanor had been becoming concerned about their whereabouts and as soon as she heard the door she strode into the hallway to confront the two wretched young girls in astonishment. They were a sight to behold with their hair hanging in soaked disaster over their pinched white faces and their clothes clinging wetly to them in sodden ruin.
“What the blazes do you two think you are doing?” she demanded “It’s nearly half past ten and look at the state of you!”
“I… I’m sorry ma-am.” muttered Debra miserably “We were sheltering from the rain.”
“Obviously not doing a very good job of it! Have you taken leave of your senses? Why the blazes have you gone out without suitable clothing on a night like this? And coming back so late Debra! You were supposed to be looking after Julie and straight away you bring her back at this hour soaked to the skin!”
Debra whimpered in misery “I’m sorry ma-am!”
“Right get yourselves out of those wet clothes, into a hot bath and into your nightclothes this instant! You’ll catch pneumonia stood there like that!”
“Y… yes ma-am.”
“I’ll be in my study. I’ll get Mrs Darcy to make you some supper after you’ve had your bath. Then it’s into bed with you!”
“Yes ma-am.” the two girls fled to the bathroom thankfully. Debra filled the big bath with hot water and they peeled out of their wringing clothes. It was bliss to sink down into the bath and drive the chill out their limbs in the steaming water together. Julie soaped Debra’s back for her and rinsed out her hair feeling a growing fondness for the lovely green-eyed girl.
“I’m right sorry ah got yer inter trouble wi’ yer Missus Debbie.”
“It was my fault Julie! I should have been taking more notice of the time. If we’d set off back in good time we’d have never have got caught in that rain!”
“Well it were me as said ‘ang on a bit ter see if’n it eases off. Ah never thought it’d go on so long.”
Debra hugged her, their bodies warm and soapy against each other in tender embrace. “No Julie. I’ll take full responsibility. I was supposed to be taking care of you as she said.”
“Well give us a kiss anyway Debbie.” Debra smiled and obeyed.
“Eee you taste soapy Julie! Come on turn around and I’ll wash your hair.” By the time they had emerged from the bath their skins were glowing and the chilling rain was a distant memory. They folded each other in warm towels and rubbed themselves dry before using the hair dryers and brushes to put some semblance of order back into their hair. Minutes later they were knocking on Eleanor’s study door in their nightclothes.
“Come in!” the command was imperious and ominously stern. Eleanor was dressed for bed, sitting at her big desk in a dressing gown over gauzy black negligee. Debra and Julie stood before her looking pensive, Debra in a lacy nightgown and Julie in her pink pyjamas. “Are you two properly warmed up now?”
“Y… yes ma-am.” Debra replied penitently.
“I’m very annoyed with you Debra! You should know better than to take Julie out on a rotten day like today without adequate clothing and bring her home so late! Whilst Julie is here we are responsible for her well-being. What would her parents think of us that we had so abrogated that responsibility?”
“I… I don’t know ma-am. I’m really sorry.”
“I have been thinking today that Julie might be the perfect s****r for you Debra. It was my intention to speak to Julie’s parents about the matter. How am I supposed to convince Julie’s parents that she will be well looked after if they know that the minute my back is turned you drag her off into some misadventure? I don’t know what you were thinking of!”
“I… I’m sorry ma-am.” Debra repeated.
“Sorry you will be! We’ve been getting far too slack around this house of late! It’s high time you were taught a little lesson in responsibility young lady!”
“Please ma-am it won’t happen again.”
Eleanor stood and slipped out of her dressing gown, dr****g it over the back of her chair. “Well we shall reinf***e your earnest commitment! Take your nightgown off and lie face down on the desk!” Debra started in shock at her Mistress’s command. Julie started to protest but her words died on her lips at the look of stern resolution in the Lady Eleanor’s face. Eleanor was already striding across the room to a wall cabinet, her negligee clinging to her female curves. Debra saw the futility in protest and pulled her nightgown over her head with tears pricking at her eyes. As Eleanor regarded the choice of implements in her selection in the punishment cabinet Debra climbed up onto the long desk in her white knickers. Eleanor made her choice and Julie gasped as she walked back across the room with it in her hand. It was a thick leather strap, perhaps some two feet long, cut into two strips at its striking end and attached to a wooden handle. Eleanor looked at the trembling figure of Debra stretched out along the desk, clutching the edge of it with her hands. “That’s not good enough young lady and you know it! Please oblige me by displaying yourself properly for punishment!” Debra emitted a pitiful little whimper and raised her hips to slide her knickers down to her knees. Once her bottom was bared she stretched out once more and gripped the edge of the desk with her teeth clenched together and her eyes firmly shut.
Julie watched in fascinated horror as Eleanor raised the strap up well above her shoulder, pausing to let the quivering girl anticipate its first impact. With a frightful sweep of her arm Eleanor brought the strap down hard across Debra’s bottom. Julie jumped at the loud report of the strap and Debra’s eyes flew open as her upper torso jerked up with the fearsome stroke. As Eleanor lifted the strap once more Julie could see the broad crimson stripe that the first stroke had left across Debra’s buttocks. The second stroke was even harder and the twin thongs of the strap curled around the orbs viciously. Debra hissed loudly through gritted teeth, the muscles in her neck bulging as she sought to maintain control. Julie winced at every stinging report but could not wrest her eyes from the spectacle of her friend lying across the desk and convulsing at every agonising stroke of the strap. Her knuckles were white as they clenched the edge of the desk and the strange green eyes were filled with tears but even after a dozen hard strokes to her bottom the punished girl had not given vent to anything louder than strangled gasps and murmurs in the back of her throat. Julie felt sorry for Debra but admired her courage and fortitude. She knew however that Debra’s resilience must have a limit.
Eleanor changed tack and now brought the strap down across Debra’s shoulder blades, reddening them with a series of fast hard strokes. Soft moans were starting to escape from Debra’s lips and her eyes met Julie’s briefly in despair as her flogging continued. Eleanor was talking in irritation as she beat her slave. “Hold still girl! You have thoroughly deserved this! I can’t think what has got into you recently. Well I shall teach you a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry!” She worked her way down Debra’s back and turned her attention once more to the orbs of her bottom already scarlet from their earlier treatment. Lash after lash rained down across Debra’s tormented rear and she began to cry aloud, the cheeks of her face wet with tears. Her cries became all the more demented as Eleanor began to work on the soft flesh at the back of her thighs. The flogging was methodical and relentless as Eleanor moved the focus of her chastisement up and down the naked girl’s body. Debra was shrieking now and pleading for respite but Eleanor continued to whip her mercilessly.
Julie stood riveted by the scene. Debra’s back, bottom and the back of her legs were an angry red in colour. There were bruises appearing on her sides where the strap had curled around her flanks and loins and the centres of her buttocks were turning a livid purple under the onslaught. Tiny flecks of bl**d appeared on her swollen bottom as she howled and wept under her Mistress’s correction. Julie felt torn between conflicting emotions. On one side she felt great pity for the beaten girl and guilty in that she had been at least partially responsible for her fate. On the other side she felt a growing arousal at the sight of Debra’s whipping. It brought to mind the day she had watched Baxter whip Jennifer in the Low Woods whilst she’d masturbated in the concealing bushes. Then there’d been the day when she and Rebecca had caned Jennifer in the hunter’s lodge, the whipping up at Forden Caves and her own beating in the barn at the abandoned homestead. Julie’s nipples were so tautly erect that they were painful and she could feel her sex opening in arousal and the moistness of her juices on her inner thighs beneath her pyjamas. She glanced at Debra’s Mistress, her fine body barely concealed under the thin veil of her negligee. Her full rounded breasts were heaving and there were beads of perspiration on her brow as she belaboured her wayward slave’s body with harsh strokes. Julie could see the distended pupils of her eyes and the partially open lips of her mouth as she flailed away and it was plain that the lady was enjoying chastising her slave. The flimsy negligee did not conceal the erect nipples on her breasts and Julie could even discern the dark vee of her pubic hairs beneath the gossamer covering. Julie knew instinctively that if you ran your hand down and under from that dark triangle you would find a warm place, sopping with moisture, opening invitingly to your caress.
At last Eleanor seemed satisfied. Debra lay prone and limp on the desk sobbing copiously in her pain. “I hope you have learned your lesson young lady! Now stop puling and get up!” Agonisingly Debra heaved herself off the table with her chin quivering and tears streaming down her face. As she stood up stiffly her knickers fell from her knees about her ankles and she stooped to pull them up. “You can leave them down young madam! In fact take them off completely! Stand up against the wall with your hands on your head and your legs apart. No don’t face the wall. You’ve had your strapping now you can witness Julie’s!”
Julie started violently. “Eh what? M… my….. “
“Yes Julie! It’s your turn now! Debra might be guilty of not keeping an eye on you but there’s no excuse for you either. You should know better! Don’t think I don’t know where the two of you were “sheltering” from the rain. When it got so late the first place I phoned up to see if anybody had seen you was the White Monk. The landlady said you had just left after being in there all evening drinking and gambling with the locals! Your parents will be mortified young lady! As soon as you slip the leash you’re off u******e drinking and wagering! Well I’ll not have them say I was letting you run around wild and neglecting my responsibility toward you so you can oblige me by taking your pyjama top off and replacing Debra up on the desk!” Julie gulped and glanced wildly at Debra but there was no help coming from the still blubbering girl. “Come along Julie! I’m waiting!” Eleanor was fingering the thick tawse impatiently.
In a daze Julie walked over to the desk her bottom already twitching in fearful anticipation. She pulled her pyjama top over her head and naked to the waist climbed up to kneel on the desk looking at Eleanor abjectly. Eleanor let her stern gaze slip to Julie’s pyjama bottoms and she nodded significantly. Biting her lip Julie obeyed the unspoken command and slid her thumbs under the elastic of her pyjama bottoms pulling them down to her knees. Once her nether regions were completely exposed for punishment she lay flat on the desk. The polished wood was hard and cool against her breasts and stomach and she glanced fearfully over her shoulder as Eleanor took up position alongside her running the leather of the strap through her fingers. Julie tore her eyes away and focussed instead on Debra, still stood with her hands on the back of her head. She was blinking fiercely and there were still tears trickling down her face. The watery green eyes were fixed on Julie’s prostrate form however. Julie had become aroused watching Debra’s strapping and now she wondered if Debra was feeling the same. It was, of course, quite another matter to be on the receiving end of a belting and Julie had no illusions as to just how painful the coming ordeal was going to be. The last time she had been spanked was by Jennifer with the hairbrush in the bathroom at the Appleton’s house the morning after the crowning ceremony in the village. That had stung to be sure and had left her bottom bright pink but it in no way equalled the severity of the beating Eleanor had just administered to Debra.
She sensed rather than saw Eleanor lift the strap high above her. Instinctively she knew that the first stroke would wrap around her buttocks and she gripped the edge of the desk tightly. Julie was not a girl to suffer in silence and the shocking pain of the leather strap drove a cry of anguish from her throat. For the next few minutes Eleanor worked industriously on the squealing girl. The flogging was every bit as severe as that that Debra had just suffered, covering Julie’s torso from the backs of her legs to her shoulders with angry red swelling. She was brave, Eleanor noted with satisfaction, for while she screamed loudly with each heavy stroke she did not beg or plead, nor did she attempt to squirm out from under the raining blows. Also, although her face was a picture of agonised distress, she took over half the punishment without bursting into tears. That was all well and good but Eleanor needed her to cry cathartically and so she increased the strength and tempo of the strokes until tears began to escape from the tightly shut eyes. For Julie the ordeal seemed interminable. She had pulled herself up onto her elbows arching her back as if that would somehow relieve the awful continuous blaze of pain being dealt to her burning rear and back. She had wanted to hold back her tears but the relentless march of the tawse up and down her naked frame broke her control in the end and finally she cried freely her sobs interrupted by a loud scream at every new explosion of pain across her swollen body. She dreaded the strokes on the backs of her legs the most. The pain of them on that tender flesh was appalling. At one point the tawse curled around her left buttock and the tips of the strap found an entry into the crevice between her buttocks sending a jolt of pain through her as it kissed the bud of her anus. She squeezed her buttocks together tightly and howled at the top of her voice. Through a blur of tears she glanced up to see Debra watching her torment with a comical mixture of horrified pity and deep fascination on her face. After some time she barely registered each new stroke, they all seemed to merge into a blur. Her back, buttocks and thighs were just now a single burning entity. She lost focus on her surroundings and became just a quivering misery of pain jerking with each stroke. Her shrieks lost their volume and descended into a low continual keening.
It was the point Eleanor had been waiting for. “Very well you may get up now Julie.” Her words seemed to come from far away and it was a second or two before they registered on Julie’s brain letting her know that her beating was at an end. Slowly and painfully she eased herself up. Eleanor was watching her calmly, breathing deeply from her exertions. Julie slipped off the desk carefully frightened of falling down and stood up stiffly her pyjama bottoms still around her lower legs. “Step out of your pyjamas Julie and join Debra!” Once Julie had assumed the same stance as Debra with her hands on her head and her legs apart Eleanor addressed the miserable pair. “Now let that be a lesson to the pair of you! Turn around and face the wall!” They turned to stand side by side against the wall and Eleanor stalked up behind them. “You can both remain like that until supper time! Straighten up Debra!” The command was punctuated by the loud report of the strap on Debra’s swollen bottom eliciting a frantic shriek from the girl. “Now not a squeak out of either of you until I give you leave or you’ll be back on the desk for more understand?” The two girls nodded dumbly “Good and the next time there is a repetition of tonight’s disgrace you can expect to be birched!” Debra whimpered under her breath. In the Waterstone household the birch was the most feared instrument of all. Debra had only felt it once but it was an experience that she was in no rush to repeat.
Satisfied Eleanor replaced the tawse in the cupboard and poured herself a brandy from the drinks cabinet. She reclined back in her easy chair and regarded the two young girls with satisfaction. She had to time this period of silent penitence to perfection she knew. They needed just enough time for the pain to die down but not enough for the ache of maintaining their position and boredom to set in. About half an hour should do it. When the burning of their strapping had subsided to a pervasive glow she would forgive them and pamper them, promise them a nice reward for taking their punishment like good girls and send them scampering off to bed with their suppers where they’d climb into bed with each other in mutual commiseration and the heat from their loins would drive them into each other’s arms with mounting passion. Eleanor was very experienced in handling young slaves. She’d raised enough of them and never had a failure yet.
She sighed admiring the two young bodies stood against the wall bearing the marks of their beatings. How lovely they were. When they had scuttled away to bed she would have to see to the urgent demands of her own passion. Chastising the two girls had inflamed her mightily. She let her hand wander to her crutch and squeeze her sex feeling the heat and moisture there. It was late but perhaps Donald and Pauline might be tempted to pop around for a nightcap. She wanted to be ravished, have her negligee torn from her, be taken roughly, be f***ed to perform with the riding crop held over her in threat. Even the Mistress of a grand house needed her moments of submission occasionally.
At last she judged the moment to be right and she pulled a bell rope close at hand. Within a minute Mrs Darcy appeared in the room looking at the two punished girls sourly. “I wonder if you’d make Debra and Julie some hot Horlicks and prepare a tray with some buns and biscuits on Mrs Darcy. I’d make them get their own supper but they’ve been punished and they’re not allowed to move until bedtime.”
“Bin misbe’avin’ ‘ave they ma-am?”
“Yes! Making a disgrace of themselves at the pub and coming home sopping wet and filthy in the rain!”
“Yer too soft on yer young ladies ma-am. In me younger days when Missy Caroline were t’ Mistress in this ‘ouse they’d ‘ave bin sent ter bed wi’out any supper at all!”
“Yes well they’ve been properly punished I can assure you and I’ve promised them the birch if there’s any further similar infractions.”
“Aye that’ll sort their ideas out! Missy Caroline were allus a great believer in t’ birch. She used ter ‘ave ‘er lasses thrashed every month regular as clockwork just ter keep ‘em straight. Fust day o’ t’ month they’d all be lined up in this ‘ere room wi’ nowt on and waitin’ fer an’ ‘idin’. We ‘ad a proper whippin’ bench in ‘ere in them days an’ they’d ave ter tek turns in ‘oldin each other down while she took t’ birch to ‘em. Course folk are a lot softer these days. No wonder t’ young ladies gerrup ter so much mischief! Is this lass ‘ere a new one?” Mrs Darcy pointed at Julie.
“Erm possibly.”
“I don’t know! Not bin ‘ere five minutes an’ she’s gerrin’ inter trouble already! If yer’ll tek my advice Missus yer’ll ‘ave ‘er marched out ter t’ barn, tied ter t’ beams an’ thrashed to within an inch ov ‘er life! That’s what Missy Caroline would ‘ave done! She’d ‘ave showed ‘er t’ error ov ‘er ways an’ no mistake!”
“I shall bear it in mind Mrs Darcy. Now if you would be kind enough to attend to the girls’ supper.”
“Aye I’ll do that ma-am.” Mrs Darcy shuffled off mumbling under her breath “Gerrin supper after misbehavin’! I’ve never ‘eard the like!”
Once the old lady had departed with her tedious reminiscences Eleanor addressed Debra kindly. “Come over here Debra.” Debra turned around and walked over to her Mistress on tenterhooks her face haunted with apprehension. But Eleanor smiled encouragingly at her and held out her hands to take Debra’s in them. In relief Debra saw that she was forgiven. Eleanor’s anger never lasted long and once she had punished her slaves the incident was quickly forgotten. “Turn around and let me look at your back Debra.”
“Yes ma-am.” Debra turned. Julie was still stood against the wall with her hands on her head peering over her shoulder anxiously.
“Hmm. No damage done Debra. You’ll be little sore for the rest of the night and you might have a bit of bruising tomorrow but it’ll soon fade. I’ll give you some lotion to put on your bottom before you go to bed. Turn around.” Eleanor patted her knee and gently tugged at Debra’s hand. Obediently Debra sat on her lap the warmth of Eleanor’s thighs soothing on her burning buttocks. Eleanor loved these moments of intimacy with her slaves when she could have them close, stroke and pamper them. She teased at Debra’s hair affectionately and used a handkerchief to wipe the last of her tears from her cheeks. “You’re a good girl really Debra. You just need correcting occasionally. Have you learned your lesson now?”
“Y… yes ma-am. I won’t do it again”
“I know you won’t Debra. You normally only have to be taught once. Now cheer up my little lovely! I’m going to take you and Julie to town tomorrow and treat you both to something nice.”
“Th… thank you ma-am.”
“We’ll have a nice luncheon and tea at the Royal and do a bit of shopping. You’re going to be Jennifer Walstow-Mathom’s maids of honour at the summer festival aren’t you? Well we can’t have you letting the House down. At the very least we’ll have to pick out a pair of ball-gowns for the festival ball for you won’t we?”
Debra’s eyes were shining in pleasure now “Oh yes! That would be lovely. I’ve only got the one I bought for my debutante ball and that’s ages ago!”
“Well Jennifer’s bound to be strutting around in some fabulous creation courtesy of Mathom Hall and I don’t want you accompanying her in some old faded rags. We’ve got our reputation to uphold dear. We’ll have to find something knockout for you to wear, perhaps something in emerald green to match your eyes. I’ve got a lovely emerald necklace you can borrow to accessory it.”
“Oh ma-am you’re too good to me!”
“Rubbish! I like you to look pretty Debra and at the summer festival ball all eyes will be on you and I’ll not have people saying that I don’t look after my girls. Now then are you still sore?”
“Just a little bit ma-am.”
“I’m sorry I had to spank you Debra but you know you mean the world to me. I was worried sick when you were so late on a wild night like tonight.”
“Yes ma-am. I’m sorry for worrying you and making you angry.”
“Oh I’m not angry any more Debra. I’m just happy that no harm has come to you. You took your spanking bravely and the pain will soon fade. Am I forgiven for punishing you?”
“Oh! Of course ma-am! You were right to punish me.”
“You’re a good girl Debra. Now slip into your night clothes whilst I see to Julie.” Debra slid off Eleanor’s knee happy again now and Eleanor called Julie over. Julie walked over her mind in turmoil. Debra was wincing as she pulled her knickers up. They seemed to be only half their original size as she eased them over her swollen bottom. Debra took Julie’s hands “Turn around Julie and let me see your back and bottom.” Julie turned and flinched as Eleanor ran her fingers over the harsh weals on her buttocks. One of the advantages of using the strap to Eleanor’s thinking was that it rarely left any lasting marks. The centre of Julie’s buttocks were somewhat bruised and she’d probably be a little uncomfortable sitting down tomorrow. Well that was no bad thing. It would help her remember her lesson and keep her meekly obedient for a while although Eleanor was under no illusions. A girl of Julie’s temperament would soon be finding new ways to get into trouble. And that was no bad thing either. Eleanor was attracted to the streak of mischief in her, hopefully, new acquisition. Carefully nurtured and not allowed to lead her into real trouble it was a potential asset. It lay at the root of the young girl’s zest and enthusiasm. It would lend amusement and a touch of devilry to her character. All good thoroughbreds had that irrepressible dash of spirit in them and a wise Mistress kept a leash on it but never broke it. “That’s fine Julie. You’ll heal up soon enough. Come. Sit on my lap for a moment.” Julie obeyed feeling strangely comfortable in doing so. She hadn’t sat on her parents’ laps since she was twelve years old but it felt oddly very natural to nestle on the lap of this maternal woman after she had beaten her. Julie was very conscious of the lady of the house’s sensual allure and she shivered slightly as her bottom rested on the flimsy material of the black negligee.
Eleanor was aware of Julie’s sensations. The girl was meekly penitent and looking sorry for herself but there was no doubt that she was aroused as well. Eleanor could scent her arousal, see her erect nipples and feel the dampness of her sex on her thighs. She laid a hand on Julie’s upper thigh very close to the fuzzy vee of her pubic hair and felt the girl tremble slightly. This was all to the good. Later in the privacy of Debra’s bedroom the heat in her body would drive her into a frenzy of passion. The two girls were as good as lovers already. It was as much to achieve this aim as to punish them that Eleanor had taken the strap to them. She had little doubt that when she took them to town tomorrow they would already locked in the secrecy of intimacy. Eleanor delighted in the thought of the two girls accompanying her to town. She would be meeting friends in town and although they were familiar with Sandra and Andrea they had not seen Debra and not even heard of Julie. It would be entirely agreeable to show off her new slaves in public. In the old days she would have led them around on little silver chains proudly displaying them to her acquaintances. That wasn’t particularly socially acceptable nowadays but it was still a powerful symbol of one’s social status in the Line to parade a coffle of young attractive slaves in public. She’d have them dressed up nicely and on their best behaviour. Anne Withers would be green with jealousy!
“Are you still sore Julie?” she asked.
“A little bit ma-am.”
“Well get Debra to put some ointment on you before you go to bed.” Eleanor smiled to herself. She could see where the action of smearing lotion onto each other’s bottoms would lead immediately. “I’m sorry I had to spank you Julie but really you shouldn’t be out carousing in pubs at your age. You’re not eighteen until October! Your mother would be horrified. You shouldn’t really be drinking at all.”
“No ma-am.” Julie reflected wryly that it wasn’t the only time she’d earned a good hiding for u******e drinking.
“Well now it’s over and done with. We’ll have a nice day in the city tomorrow and I’ll buy you something special for learning your lesson so well. Have you got anything to nice to wear for town with you?”
“Aye… I mean yes ma-am.” Julie blessed her foresight in packing some of her best dresses for her sojourn at Waterstone House.
“Well we’ll see. Otherwise I’m sure we can find something nice to fit you. Tell me now have you thought about your future Julie? I mean what you are going to do for a career and all that?”
“Er not really ma-am.”
“No plans to go to college or anything?
“No. I weren’t much good at school ma-am.”
“Hmm. I suspect your school wasn’t much good at you Julie. You seem a clever girl. I’m sure that you could do better for yourself. We’ll have to look into it Julie. A young lady needs an education you know. It’s about time that somebody took your future in hand. I’m going to have a word with your mother at her convenience on Sunday. Debra here needs a companion and I think you would be just perfect. Possibly we could send the two of you to university together.”
“Me? At university? Eee I don’t know ma-am!”
“Why ever not Julie. I’m sure you could do it if we find a subject that’s right for you. University life is fun and you’d make all sorts of new friends. Then a degree in your back pocket will stand you in good stead for the future. Wouldn’t you like that?”
“I… I don’t know ma-am. I’ve never thought about it!”
“Well you can start thinking. If your mother agrees to my propositions then we’ll soon find you a place at university suitable to your abilities.”
“Don’t ah need qualifications to get inter uni ma-am?”
“Hmmph! We’re not Mathom Hall but at Dorcastle University you’ll find a faculty called the Waterstone Building bequeathed and paid for by this House. We also provide three post-graduate scholarships a year there and fund a professorial seat in the humanities. You’ll have all the qualifications you need my dear! If you were a member of this House they’d lay out the red carpet on your enrolment day even if you couldn’t spell your own name!”
“Blimey! I…I don’t know ma-am! I’d ‘ave ter think about it.”
“Well do so Julie. If you were to join my household as one of my own personal young ladies then you’d need to be fully educated. Would you think about it Julie? Carefully?”
Julie’s mind was reeling. The charade like game she had been playing was catching up on her but there was just a glimpse of a dazzling future, a mirage like vision tantalisingly quivering on the horizon. For long seconds she dared to think of realms she had always known were closed to her. Her stinging bottom was forgotten now as she regarded a fantasy creation of some dream like other world, Julie Hawthorne BA, MA, Doctor Julie Hawthorne! It was absurd but it was delicious to dream for just a little while before the reality of the world came crashing back in. “I…. I’ll think about it ma-am.”
“Good girl!” There was a knock on the door “Ah! That’ll be Mrs Darcy with your supper. Don’t take any notice of her Julie. Her bark’s worse than her bite. Now slip back into your pyjamas and the two of you get off to bed. We’ll have an early start in the morning and a lovely day in town.” Julie dressed hastily and the two girls kissed Eleanor excitedly, their punishment forgotten and dashed up the big staircase, carrying the tray with their supper on, to their room, their heads full of dizzying new ideas.
Once in Debra’s bedroom Debra turned to Julie and cried “Oh Julie! I’m so sorry I got you into trouble!”
“Ah think we got each other inter trouble Debbie love. By ‘ell your Missus ‘as got an ‘eavy ‘and!”
“Julie I’m sorry! She doesn’t spank us often really. Please don’t be mad about it.”
“I’m not mad jus’ sore Debbie. Tell yer what though! I’m keepin’ out o’ t’ White Monk in future! I’d ‘ate ter ‘ave ‘er tek t’ bl**dy birch ter me backside! Ah feel red raw as it is!”
Debra hugged Julie fearfully “Julie please don’t let a spanking stop you from becoming my s****r! Honestly she doesn’t punish us very often. She’s really nice to us most of the time. I want you as my s****r! Really I do! You heard what she said. If she buys you we can go to uni together! Think what fun that’ll be!”
“Ang about Debbie! I don’t know as if I can go to flippin’ university! Ah’m as thick as a plank love!”
“You’re not! You’re not Julie! Don’t say that! You’re really clever! Oh please become my s****r Julie! Please!”
“Well we’ll see love. Nowt’s sorted until yer Missus talks ter me mam an’ dad on Sunday.” Julie felt dreadful. Debra was basing her future happiness on a foundation of false premises and Julie didn’t know how to disillusion her gently. What would she say when she found out that Julie wasn’t really one of the girls that were suitable as a s****r slave to her in a grand house. She felt a great fondness for the lovely shy Debra and it broke her heart to think how devastated she would be to learn that her prospective new s****r was just an ordinary girl after all and not born to the Lady, or Goddess as Rebecca called Her. Julie experienced a wave of sadness at the thought. Just for a little while she had entertained a fantasy above her station and by doing so she threatened to break Debra’s heart in two. She felt a great unfairness in her sorrow. She had so wanted to be a lady of a great house. In such a position her beloved Jennifer would not be ashamed to call her her wife. But Jennifer belonged to the Goddess. Even Debra did. She was just Julie Hawthorne, village shop girl, who ought to know better than to try to emulate her betters.
“Come along love.” She croaked to Debra “Us ‘Orlicks’ll be gerrin cold!”
“Oh yes! Are you still hurting? My Mistress, our Mistress gave me some ointment. Do you want me to put some on for you?”
“Well let’s ‘ave us supper first love.” The two girls ate and sipped the hot milky drink with its delicious malty flavour in contentment. At last they looked to their beds. Julie asked in shyness “Can I climb in wi’ you Debbie?”
“Why of course Julie! I promise I’ll behave.” They both snuggled under the sheets of Debra’s big bed. “Do you want some ointment then Julie?” Debra asked.
“I think I’ll be all right love. Wharrabout you?”
“Oh Julie if you start smearing ointment all over me I’ll get frisky! I know I will and I promised to behave!”
Julie chuckled deep in her throat and, laying her hands on the sweet body beside her, committed herself beyond recall. “I… I don’t want yer ter be’ave Debbie lass!” Debra sighed in sudden complete happiness and thrust her hand down under the waistband of Julie’s pyjama bottoms to clutch at her sex. Julie shuddered in rising pleasure, the heat from her beaten body now just fuelling her overwhelming lust, as she sought out Debra’s naked flesh beneath her nightgown. Out on the landing, beyond their bedroom door, Eleanor listened to their cries and moans of ecstasy with deep satisfaction. She turned and left silently, thoroughly satisfied with her day’s work.
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... Continue»
Posted by Mikebasil 2 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Lesbian Sex  |  Views: 522  |  
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Slaves of the Amethyst (part f******n) reposted.

This is a repost of an earlier piece since in the original post all the apostrophes and speech marks have been converted by the site into question marks for some reason.

Thursday morning dawned grey and overcast and there had been rain overnight. From the windows of Waterstone House the view was unappealing. The outside was dark and damp and a light drizzle streaked the windowpanes. It didn’t seem likely to be a day that would inspire adventures out of doors. Debra was disappointed at that for she’d wanted to get out with Julie in the afternoon and explore the countryside around Marveaux. On an optimistic note the weather forecast had predicted a change for the better the next day and hopefully their planned excursion would be able to take place. It might even brighten up somewhat later today she hoped. Julie didn’t mind the poor weather at all however because she was having fun. What might seem routine daily chores to Debra were a novelty to Julie and her somewhat bizarre position as a temporary personal slave, albeit under false pretences, was enormous fun. It was not, as Debra had said, Mathom Hall and, if Julie had found herself as a pretender in that establishment, she would have been terrified of being unmasked. But it was still a grand house of respectable lineage and the household just seemed to accept that she was a young lady of the valley, a, what was the term Jennifer had used, a young lady of the Line, a slave in training, possibly up for sale to the highest bidder to be taken in as a pampered favourite into some grand house or other. It was just wickedly funny to Julie and she was determined to extract the full amount of enjoyment from her charade.
It wasn’t as if Julie had deliberately misled anybody or told any lies. On the contrary she was just her normal self, enjoying a temporary role above her humble station. She was experiencing the life, that Rebecca and the other girls at Mathom Hall, and one that Jennifer was to become accustomed to, on a somewhat smaller scale and finding that she liked her elevated status very much indeed. It was the same feeling that she experienced when appearing in public with Jennifer and the Mathom Hall girls when people tacitly included you among their number, the ladies curtsied and the men bowed and tipped their caps to you. You were part of an elite hierarchy in the valley. Julie had long had fantasies about such an inclusion into those respected ranks when, if you walked into the pub, the bargirl would say “Thank you for blessing our house with the Goddess my lady.” instead of “Now then Julie wot are yer ‘avin’!” Now Julie was living that fantasy temporarily and, if it at present only extended to something as mundane as making toast and preparing a bowl of g****fruit segments, it was still deliciously exciting. Debra was busily whisking eggs in a big bowl with great seriousness and looking cute in her silly little white and pink flowered pinafore over her pretty green dress.
“Pass me the Worcester sauce would you Julie?” she was saying. “The Mistress likes a dab of it in her scrambled eggs in a morning. You’ve got to whisk the eggs up properly too. She likes her eggs soft and fluffy so you have to make sure you get plenty of air into them.” Debra consulted the menu list that was specified for this morning. “Now what does she want for cereal? Oh flip! Muesli! I hope to hell we’ve got some in the house! She’ll be bl**dy not amused if we haven’t! I think I ordered some last time. Look in that cupboard just up to your right Julie and see if we’ve got a packet.”
“Aye ‘ere we are Debbie.”
“Thank the Goddess for that! Now then how’s that coffee coming along?”
“Coming along Debbie.”
“Well keep it warm in the percolator until I’ve got the eggs cooked. She likes just a dab of chocolate powder in her coffee and that should be in the cupboard with the cereals. Also she’ll want cream in her coffee. There’re silver jugs in that sideboard and fresh cream in the far fridge. I’ve put a tray for the coffee out, so you be laying that out with cup, saucer, teaspoon, sugar bowl, cream and the coffee pot whilst I put the eggs on. The food goes on the other tray. She’ll want four slices of toast. Damn it have we got lemon marmalade?”
“I saw some in that cupboard there Debbie.”
“Brill! Get one of those little bowls and spoon some out into it Julie and put a little spoon into it.” Debra was transferring the whisked eggs into a hot pan as Julie busily prepared her part of the lady of the household’s morning repast. “You’ve got to get it right Julie. She’s like a bull with three horns until she’s had her breakfast. Get it spot on and she’s purring like a kitten for the rest of the morning. Get it wrong and she’s in a foul mood and that usually means bad news for any wayward slave that happens to cross her path during the course of the morning. More than once I’ve ended up with a sore backside because the coffee was too bitter or her bl**dy kipper was cold or something!”
“Bit demandin’ isn’t she?”
“Not at all Julie. She’s the Lady of the house. She pays through the nose to keep us in pampered luxury, takes care of our every need, protects us and takes care of our futures. She takes the trouble to see that we are not wanting for anything so the very least we can do is provide her with perfect service in return. It’s not as if we’re overworked or anything. The few responsibilities we do have should be well within our capabilities. Ok! Eggs are nearly ready. Bung the toast in the rack. That butter should be soft by now. She hates it when the butter is too hard to spread on her toast!” Fussily the two girls set up the trays for Mrs Waterstone’s breakfast. Debra ran a critical eye over everything as she spooned the eggs onto a plate and garnished them with a sprig of parsley. “OK, looks fine. Let’s get it in there. I’ll go in first with the breakfast tray. You follow me with the coffee and the morning papers. Let’s have a quick look at you.” Debra perused Julie carefully. Julie was in a becoming soft white skirt and a pretty rose coloured top that matched her hair ribbon and gave her a fresh youthful appearance. Julie was bemused that Debra had insisted on her looking her best. She was more used to jumping into a pair of faded jeans or a tracksuit bottom and t-shirt for breakfast but that was a no-no in the Waterstone household as Debra explained. The lady needed to feast her eyes with her breakfast and liked to see her young slaves looking pretty and well turned out first thing in the morning. Her slaves were as much ornamental as anything else and as such they were expected to be suitably attractive ornaments to brighten up their Mistress’s morning.
“Right you look just fine Julie. Now remember how to curtsy very slightly when you bring the coffee in. Don’t over exaggerate it or you’ll have coffee everywhere! Just a little curtsy then lay down the tray, smile and curtsy again as you wish her good morning. Once she acknowledges you then ask nicely if you can pour her coffee for her. If she wants you to hang around then do so. If she dismisses you then curtsy again, say that you hope she enjoys her breakfast and wish her good morning. Always address her as ma-am, milady or mistress. Always give her a nice smile unless she tells you off for anything at which point don’t argue just look humble and penitent. All right?”
“We ‘ave gone ovver this all before Debbie!”
“I’m sorry Julie! I just want you to be perfect for my Mistress! It’s so much fun having you around and helping when I have work to do! I want her to buy you! I’d love to have you as my s****r!”
Julie laughed in pleasure “Come along then or ‘er breakfast’ll be gerrin’ cold!” In great delight the two girls carried their burdens to Mrs Waterstone’s boudoir where she habitually broke her fast. Balancing her tray on one arm Debra knocked at the door. A soft voice bade them enter. The lady of the house was not fully dressed. She was reclining on a stool before her dressing table in an ankle length smoky grey negligee and a pair of slippers. Julie noticed what a fine looking woman she was, tall and slim with shapely legs and a firm bosom beneath the gossamer sheath of her negligee. She was teasing at her wavy hair with a brush.
“Good morning girls!”
“Good morning ma-am.” they replied curtsying prettily.
“Bung the trays on the table there girls. Is that the mail Debra?”
“Yes ma-am.” said Debra curtsying once again. “Official looking letters for the most part ma-am but there’s a personal letter from Scotland.”
“Ah that’ll be from Andrew!” Eleanor turned to look at her two young attendants with great pleasure. They looked lovely this morning and it was always a highlight for her morning’s routine to see how her young slaves dressed and carried themselves for her pleasure. It was the real bright spot in the otherwise dull affairs of managing her household, a moment of fond pride and enjoyment. Today however, her enjoyment was doubled because of the pretty looks and vivacious personality of little Julie Hawthorne. The more Eleanor saw of Julie the more she liked her. The girl had such an unquenchable zest for life. She always seemed to be on the point of bubbling over with enthusiasm. She was polite and respectful to be true but there always seemed to be that irrepressible spirit threatening to break out. Almost certainly she would be a girl forever getting into mischief and misadventure over one thing or another but Eleanor found that more a blessing than anything else. She liked her girls with a bit of spirit and sass to them. It kept life interesting, brought a feeling of youth into the household. She had trouble keeping a straight face whenever talking to Julie. The girl was so ingenuous and her good humour so infectious that it tickled Eleanor’s sense of humour. Anybody that brought laughter into the house was worth their weight in gold.
Moreover Julie had a totally beneficent effect on Debra. Eleanor had been lucky to get Debra she knew. She was of a high line and by no means cheap. Under normal circumstances Debra would have been sold to a much more wealthy f****y. However Debra’s f****y was in dispersal and Eleanor had known Debra’s mother well. Debra’s mother had been keen to sell Debra to Eleanor quite early but her contract price was very high. Debra’s mother had, quite rightly, argued that it would be unfair to lower Debra’s status by agreeing on too low a price for her. It was true that the connection of Waterstone House to the House of Mathom in itself would confer great status on her daughter but she also wanted her to be well settled financially as well. Lady Mathom had solved it by advancing a loan to Eleanor to acquire Debra. Eleanor had used the loan wisely. She had agreed with Debra’s mother to buy the contract when Debra had been thirteen but the actual fee was placed in a fund to accumulate interest until Debra could be legitimately enslaved after her eighteenth birthday. As a result of her wise investments in Debra’s fee she had mostly returned the loan to Lady Mathom and yet was able to donate the agreed upon fee whilst retaining a substantial amount for Debra’s education and future prospects. Since she had been instrumental in Eleanor’s acquisition of Debra, Lady Mathom had taken a great deal of interest in her and always grilled Eleanor regarding her whenever the two met. Lady Mathom was pleased to hear that Debra was turning out to be a wise investment and one likely to be a great asset to the status of the Waterstone line.
Nevertheless the financial burden of acquiring Debra had left little in the way of funds for further additions to the household. That, as we have seen, was a worry because Debra indubitably needed a s****r of equal age to her. It simply wasn’t healthy to bring up a highly sensitive thoroughbred young Alpha girl without a suitable companion. And Debra’s shy and introspective nature made the problem even more urgent. It would be a year or so at the least before Eleanor judged that Debra would be ready to go to university and with Sandra and Andrea approaching marriageable status then Debra was likely to become more isolated than ever. The negotiations for Sandra and Andrea’s marriages were likely to be protracted moreover so there wasn’t the immediate prospect of additional funds from that quarter. Eleanor thought she had found the perfect answer to her dilemma in Julie Hawthorne.
The evening before Eleanor had required the two girl’s presence for some time in the front parlour just so she could observe them together. Debra seemed to emerge from her shell in the presence of the bouncing Julie and Eleanor had seldom seen her so happy and excited. She could understand it. Julie was just good to have around. Julie had a sweet singing voice although her repertoire of songs was a bit on the rustic side. Eleanor had asked Debra to play the songs on the piano whilst Julie sang them and the two girls had often dissolved into giggles whenever they had hit a wrong note or lost the cadence. Eleanor had seldom seen Debra laugh so much. The evening had been enjoyable and there was an atmosphere of gaiety that had been long lacking in the house. The girls had come to say goodnight to her in their nightclothes before retiring to bed. Eleanor had smiled at that. Debra had worn a pretty cotton nightgown but Julie had been attired in silly pink pyjamas with c***dish bunny slippers. She’d insisted on kissing them both goodnight and when Julie had pecked her on the cheek it had almost felt as if the young girl was already her slave.
She wondered if they were already lovers. It was certainly to be desired and to that end she had had an extra bed made up in Debra’s room for Julie knowing that it was more than likely that one of them would climb into bed with the other. She hadn’t yet perceived an intimacy of lovers about them yet but it would probably happen. If not then there were tried and trusted old fashioned ways to make it happen. A wise mistress always made sure that her slaves were sl**ping with each other. That way you kept them healthy, happy and tied to their household. Julie’s contract would be far easier to negotiate if she was already entangled in intimacy with Debra.
Actually Eleanor’s manoeuvring had so far only been partially successful. The girls had indeed crawled into bed with each other but, although they had hugged and cuddled each other, they had stopped short of sex. Debra had become aroused and had started to stroke Julie languidly but Julie had objected. She hadn’t actually rejected Debra but said “Oh Debbie love. Y… yer’ll think I’m barmy but I… I can’t! Don’t get us wrong love! Ah think yer gorgeous an’ I’d love to…. to … you know! It’s just that well … wi’ out Jenny’s say so I feel like I’m cheatin’ on ‘er or summat! If’n Jenny sez it’s ok then I’ll be t’ first ter turn t’ bed upside down but what wi’ ‘er not bein’ ‘ere an’ not able to say owt well it’s like me bein’ unfaithful. Yer don’t mind d’ yer? Don’t be angry wi’ us love!”
“I’m not angry Julie! I understand! Really I do! Don’t be upset. It’s just nice to snuggle up with you in bed anyway. I nearly always have to sl**p alone except when my Mistress has me share her bed.”
“Yer mean yer sl**p wi yer Missus?” Julie was shocked.
“Very rarely but sometimes she likes me to.”
“And does she… yer know.”
“Not usually. She just likes having me near her sometimes, warming her bed and keeping her company. She can get lonely too sometimes. Most of her f****y are s**ttered around all over the place and she doesn’t get to see them very often.”
“But ‘ave yer…. ?”
“Only once or twice she’s had me satisfy her. Don’t be so shocked Julie! Most Mistresses enjoy the pleasure of their slaves occasionally. The lady doesn’t usually approve of sexual relations between Mistresses and slave normally. Says it undermines the proper relationship between them and can be exploitive. Still she has needs like anybody else and occasionally she’ll take a slave to bed for pleasure.”
“Blimey! And yer don’t mind?”
“She’s my Mistress Julie. She owns me! If she wants the use of my body then that’s her privilege. She only has to command and I am obliged to put my body at her disposal.”
“Sod me! D’ yer… I mean… d’ yer like it?”
“Oh yes! She’s my honoured Mistress. I feel proud and happy, flattered when she finds me attractive enough to satisfy her needs. Her wives and husbands are hardly ever there so I’m pleased to be able to gratify her longings when she needs it. I’m there to serve her. It’s no different from me bringing her coffee and brandy. The last time she wanted me to do it she was ever so sweet to me afterwards and bought me a present the next day for being so good. She takes Andrea and Sandra more than me because they’re older, and she’s worried about abusing her position with me since I’m so young, but if she wanted me more I’d be happy to oblige.”
Julie had stroked Debra’s hair thoughtfully in the dark of the bedroom “By eck Debbie! Yer a funny lass!” Julie had chuckled suddenly “Mind you if’n I were yer Mistress yer’d never be out o’ me bed!”
Debra’s hopes had raised and she’d laid a hand on Julie’s thigh “Oh well if you want to then milady!”
Julie’d had laughed “Now now Debbie! I’m sorry love, but wot ah said before still goes. I promise yer though that if our Jen sez it’s all right then t’ next time we’ll pick up from where we left off be’ind Marveaux Abbey t’ other day! Will yer be patient till then love?”
“Of course Julie!” Debra had cuddled closer to Julie in deep pleasure “Oh I do hope my Mistress buys you Julie! Then we can share a bed every night.” Presently she’d drifted off into peaceful slumber but Julie had lain awake a long time after, holding the sl**ping girl in her arms, with the ache in her loins unsatisfied and all the strange new thoughts in her head spinning wildly.
Eleanor Waterstone perused the two girls with increasing pleasure. The day promised to be a trying one and she had to go into town once again to finish off some business but at least the two fresh looking youngsters had brightened up the gloomy morning considerably. “You look very pretty today girls!” she told them. Debra and Julie blushed with pride.
“Why thank you ma-am!” answered Debra on their account.
“Yes very pleasant. I like you in soft colours Julie. Hmm! I saw a pretty dress in a shop in town yesterday that would suit you perfectly. If I get a moment sometime, and they have it in your size, I must remember to buy it for you!”
“Oh ma-am! Yer mustn’t!” Julie protested.
“Nonsense! It will look lovely on you. Now then what have you two got planned for today?”
Debra answered. “We have the silver and brass work to do in the front parlour ma-am. Then we can polish the panelling in the oak room once we’ve finished that. Also I promised Sandra and Andrea that I’d iron their blouses and some other things for them.”
“Hmmph! Don’t be doing all their work for them! They’ve got time enough to press their own clothes! They’ve been getting too lazy recently! I’ll have to take the strap to them one of these days! I won’t have them farming out all their chores to you!”
“I don’t mind honestly ma-am. It’s a horrid day and we won’t be able to get out of the house much.”
“Well it might brighten up a bit later. I’ll be away most of the day so if you get all your chores done get out for a bit of fresh air. You can show Julie around a little bit. She doesn’t know this end of the valley as well as the lower valley and she ought to see more of it. I’ll still be here for lunch and I’ll take that in here because I’ve a lot of work to catch up on. After that I’m away into town. I won’t be back for dinner so, once you’ve finished up what you have to do, you’ve the rest of the afternoon and evening off. Be back by nine o’clock all right!”
“Yes ma-am.”
“I would have liked to take the pair of you with me today but I’ve got all sorts of tedious meetings to attend and it wouldn’t really be convenient. Tomorrow’s another matter however. Perhaps if the weather shapes up we can drive into town and do some shopping. You could do with some new clothes Debra and we can pick up that dress for you Julie and anything else that might be suitable. We could take tea at the Royal and make a day of it. Julie doesn’t have to be home until Sunday so we’ve plenty of time. How does that sound?”
“Oh wonderful ma-am!” Debra cried in delight.
“Excellent! Will your parents be home on Sunday afternoon Julie?”
“Aye… I mean yes ma-am!”
“Good! Perhaps if it’s convenient I’d like to have a chat with them.”
“Y… yes ma-am!” Julie’s heart was fluttering. Life was getting complicated all of a sudden.
“Yes I think perhaps we might be able to do business. Now run along you two and get your breakfast.” The two girls curtsied and left.
Debra was wildly excited. “I knew it! I just knew it! She’s going to buy you Julie! You’re going to be my s****r! Oh I’m so happy!”
“’Ere ‘ang about Debbie! Don’t go ovver board! Me mam an’ dad might ‘ave summat ter say about it yer know!” Julie cringed at the thought of the upcoming interview between Mrs Waterstone and her parents. She could just hear her mother now “Yer want ter do what Mrs Waterstone? Buy our Julie!? Ah think yer might be under some misapprehension ma-am! Now ah know that’s t’ custom like fer young ladies wot’s born ter t’ Lady o’ t’ valley an’ all but our Julie’s just an ordinary lass ma-am. She’s no Jenny Walstow! Just plain ordinary stock! Nowt special about ‘er at all!”
Debra looked troubled “Why Julie. I know it’s not Mathom Hall and all that but this is still a very respected House and affiliated to the House of Mathom. A slave of the Waterstone House has very high credentials and status Julie. You’d be a young lady of the second great house in Mathomdale! Surely your parents would consider a good offer from this House. After all you’d be close by and it’s not as if you were being sold out of the valley.” She paused “Do you think that your parents are holding out for a better offer from somewhere else?”
Julie swallowed “Ah…. Ah don’t think there’s any other upcomin’ offers Debbie!” she prevaricated.
“Well then! Your parents will be bound to consider a good offer from the Lady Eleanor. Oh wow Julie! Just think! A whole day’s shopping in town tomorrow! I bet she spends a fortune on us! She likes her slaves well turned out and she doesn’t skimp when it comes to outfitting them. Goddess! It’s going to be so much fun!”
Julie’s mind was in turmoil. “Well anyway let’s get us some brekkers Debbie love!”
“Yes I’m famished!” Debra’s enthusiasm was not to be dampened. “Do you want tea or coffee s*s?”
At Mathom Hall it was a morning of departures. Alice and Daniel left in the morning after a fond farewell to Rebecca and Robin and kissing their Mistress and promising to return as soon as Alice had finished her photo shoot in Hamburg. There was also a departure in the cellars. Jennifer was devastated. Her last love making with Rachel had been lingering and sweet. Rebecca and Alice had finally departed the evening before to greet their men folk back from the pub. It had been a lovely evening and Alice and Jennifer had unclipped the cuffs on the wrists from each other in great regret so that Alice could dress and leave with solemn promises to return as soon as possible. When Rebecca and Alice had left them with long kisses Rachel had gathered Jennifer up in her arms and swept her away to their little cell to drive her delirious with passion by the light of the candles on the walls. They’d made love for hours and collapsed into blissful sl**p satiated. In the morning the routine had not altered much. Jennifer still got her spanking with the paddle. There’d still been the obligatory course of exercises but after that Rachel had vanished for some time whilst Jennifer had studied a handbook on the Harvard referencing system, provided by Sebastian. When she had returned Rachel had been wearing a smart grey day suit of skirt and jacket over a frilled white blouse, dark stockings and high heeled black shoes and Jennifer’s heart had torn in two.
“Oh you’re leaving already Rachel!”
“Yes Jenny. I have to get off now. Don’t look so glum honey. We’ll see each other soon enough. You’re to report to me at least once a week for the rest of the summer sweetheart. You’ve got some assignments to finish off and I shall be monitoring your progress. Remember just because I’m not there doesn’t mean you can slack off! There’re plenty of suitable instruments to tender to your pretty backside both here and in my house when you report so bear it in mind!”
“Am I to stay here then?” Jennifer had wept bitterly.
“Yes Jenny. Don’t worry you won’t be on your own for long. You have some nice surprises coming to you over the next couple of days. Now come along! Cheer up! Is this a way for a slave of the House of Mathom to comport herself?”
“Oh I’m going to miss you Rachel!”
Rachel had folded her in her arms “There, there Jenny! I’m going to miss you too! Don’t be upset! We won’t be parted for long I promise you. I’m very proud of you Jenny. You’ve made fabulous progress this week. I shall be telling your Mistress that when I go upstairs and she’ll be proud of you too. You’ll be out of here soon and then you’ll see all your s****rs. They’re going to throw a big party for you when you move into your chambers upstairs so that’s something to look forward to isn’t it? Then you’ll be able to see Julie as well! So chin up my sweet! Life’s not all that bad!”
“Oh Rachel! It won’t seem the same without you here!”
“You’ll be just fine honey! Sebastian will look after you. Now give me a big kiss and let me go. I have to report to the Lady before I take off back home.” So Jennifer had kissed her and then she’d parted leaving Jennifer desolate in her loneliness in the cellars. Sebastian was kind to her but Jennifer was inconsolable in her grief at the parting. She sat in the dining chamber trying to study her handbook but her eyes were bleary with tears. Only the softly purring Chester curled up on her lap was any comfort to her sudden desperate loneliness. Sebastian brought her lunch and, because she was so utterly destitute, stayed with her whilst she ate offering words of comfort. In the afternoon she moped about not knowing what to do with herself. The ordered routine of her incarceration had come to an end. Rachel was not there to give her orders and set her tasks. She missed the strict structure Rachel had imposed on her life in the cellars. She wandered out to the garden but it was raining and cold so she spent most of the afternoon sat before the fire in the dining chamber feeling sorry for herself. It was almost welcome when Sebastian appeared and told her that it was time for her daily whipping. There seemed to be some order still in her life and, if Rachel was not there to comfort her afterwards and smear lotion on her weals, then at least Sebastian was not neglecting her. She calmly stood to accompany Sebastian to the whipping chamber. He surprised her though. After he clipped the cuffs on her wrists together in front of her he produced a blindfold and bound it about her eyes. Jennifer was confused and scared. It was the first time she had been denied vision since her first day in the cellars and it seemed to foretell some dreadful ordeal before her.
He led her out by her silver chain attached to her collar and she stumbled along afterwards trembling with fear. She didn’t know that Sebastian had other reasons for blindfolding her this day and, that for once they were nice reasons. There was a surprise waiting for her in the whipping chamber. Jennifer detected something in the chamber through her blindfold but she was at a loss to pin down the sensation that came to her. There was a familiar scent in the air but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Sebastian raised her wrists and she felt him attaching the chain from the ceiling to it. Her arms were raised as the chain tightened up pulled them over her head. She stumbled forward and straight into somebody else. That somebody was quite obviously female and as naked as she was. Jennifer gasped in recognition. Now she knew that scent. It was Rebecca’s favourite perfume.
“Hello darling! Surprised?”
“Oh Rebecca! What are you doing here?”
“Not a lot Jenny dearest! My hands are tied over my head to the roof and it tends to limit your scope for action.”
“Oh Becky I can’t see you!”
“I can’t see you either sweetheart! I’m blindfolded as well. Here we are! Just a miserable pair of slaves trussed up in the dungeons and awaiting their punishment! Now do I get a kiss or not?”
“Oh yes!” Jennifer sought out Rebecca’s mouth with her own and possessed it fiercely. Finally they broke for breath. “But Becky I don’t understand. Why are you here chained up with me?”
Sebastian cleared his throat in the background “I shall leave you two ladies alone for the moment. Undoubtedly there is much you wish to talk about privately. I shall return in due course.” His footsteps receded from the chamber.
“Becky! Becky why are you here? Have you done something wrong?”
“Probably my love but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I asked to be here. I’m spending the night with you. Is that all right?”
“Of course it is! I was feeling so lonely! I can’t believe that you’ve come down to be with me! Oh I love you so much! Did you really come just to keep me company?”
“Yes Jenny. It was something I very much wanted to do. I told you before that I wanted to share your prison and your chains with you darling. I love you. I want to be bound like this to you forever.” Rebecca pressed her body against Jennifer. Chains to the same pulley in the roof held up the two of them to each other and their bodies were in close and sweet contact. Jennifer sighed with the pleasure of Rebecca’s naked skin against her, the soft swell of her breasts against her own and the tickle of Rebecca’s long hair as she nuzzled at her neck.
“Oh Rebecca! This is the most wonderful thing that has happened to me all day! When Sebastian brought me here I thought I was just going to be whipped.”
“You are going to be whipped Jenny! We both are! Very, very hard! I asked that I could share your whipping! I want to be bound in pain to you! I want to share in your agony. I’ve wanted this for a long time Jenny! Everything that is yours I want to be mine also including your torment. I want to prove my love to you under the lash! I want my screams to mingle with yours. I want you to feel my body writhe against you in my agony. I want you to bury your face in my shoulder as the pain gets too much. I want you to be my wife! I want to forge our union in the sharing of our whip marks. From this day hence I want us to be united indeed, s****rs in torment, married by the kiss of the lash on our bodies.”
“Becky I’m scared!”
“So am I darling! But will you endure? Will you undergo this for me? Will you take me for your own in the heat of our pain darling? Will you cry out your love for me as the whip tortures your body?”
“Yes! Yes I will! By the Goddess I will take you for my own by the crack of the whip on my flesh! I swear it!”
“I love you Jennifer!”
“I love you too Rebecca!” And so they waited, talking softly, kissing frequently rubbing their bodies against each other until the ache of their longing became unbearable. In due course Sebastian returned to the chamber carrying a long, long whip and the two girls forged a bonding in pain and ecstasy that only death could tear asunder.
By the latter part of the afternoon the rain had abated and Debra and Julie were finally able to escape the confines of the house. In fact the late afternoon was quite pleasant and, seduced by the gently warming change of weather, the two of them were led into indiscretion. They left the house in exuberant merriment dressed in the clothes they had worn all day around the house and foolishly omitted the precaution of carrying overcoats or umbrellas. It was a bad mistake. The fickle climate was merely playing with them and the pause in the rain was simply a treacherous lull before the final act of spite the cold grey front had to inflict upon Mathomdale that evening.
The two girls were blissfully unaware of this as they walked about the countryside hand in hand however. Debra in fact had rarely felt so carefree. The whole day so far had been just wonderful. Her daily chores had never been so full of light and happiness. Julie’s presence had elevated the mundane into a pleasure and transformed a dull routine into an adventure of shared contentment. Debra was not the most garrulous of girls but she had surprised herself this day with her incessant chatter. Julie was just so easy to talk to. She’d told Julie about her aspirations and dreams as they rubbed metal polish onto the brass-work. She’d whispered secrets about her Mistress as they teased out the shine in the wood panelling in the oak room. She’d confessed her inner feelings as they prepared the table for her Mistress’s lunch. There’d been great joy in their conversations. Debra had never had such a close confidant. Increasingly she was becoming obsessed with the thought that her Mistress would buy Julie. They had served Eleanor her lunch on the stroke of twelve and as they had cleared the plates she had taken her leave of them fondly, insisting on kissing them both before taking the car and driving out of the valley. It was significant to Debra, that farewell kiss, inclusive as it was of Julie. There almost seemed an unspoken assumption that Julie was already her new s****r and the thought made Debra deliriously happy.
In truth, as far as Eleanor was concerned, Julie already was. She drove down the valley thoughtfully, by now determined to make an offer to the Hawthorne f****y for the young and exuberant little blond that had so impressed her. If her business today proved fruitful then there would be ample funds to present an offer that would convey great status on all concerned. She was concerned that Julie’s importance to the Hawthorne f****y business might be a stumbling block in the negotiations but she thought she knew how to deal with that. She could provide a solid investment in the Hawthorne shop and retail business and Julie could still manage its affairs as her commitments at Waterstone House allowed. There was the troubling question of Julie’s education to worry about. Eleanor had gathered that Julie had ceased her education at an early age. Very well then, she would offer to provide a sound post-compulsory education for the Hawthorne’s daughter, possibly a college course in business management or something. Julie seemed to have talents in that respect and it would be a mutually beneficial talent for her to acquire for all concerned. Julie’s potential acumen in the retail trade alone could ultimately repay the investment and then, with a possible marriage into the House of Mathom, the possibilities were endless. Of course Julie still had to come to an acceptance of her slavery but Eleanor was experienced in these matters and there were ways of accomplishing that desirable state of mind. All told the future seemed very rosy to Eleanor.
Debra and Julie ended up at the White Monk. They had walked long and carelessly through the upper valley and by six o’clock they were thirsty and in need of a rest. The cosy little pub by the abbey ruins had been a siren call. Now they were sat in a tiny little snug at the back of the pub and Julie was teaching the locals the futility of challenging her to a game of draughts. Draughts were c***d’s play to a girl who could play three-dimensional chess in her head and she routinely massacred any person foolish enough to take her on. Debra giggled and clapped her hands in delight as Julie’s tally of hapless victims grew and yet another vanquished hopeful was despatched to the bar to settle the stakes. Julie was teasing her prey mercilessly, luring them into believing they had a strong position before launching an annihilating counter attack and leaving them scratching their heads in bewilderment and delving into their pockets to pay for the round. Don Whitelaw, leaning against the bar, warned his friend, Jack Pierce “Don’t be after tekkin’ that young lass on Jack. She’ll murder thee! She’s ‘ad two rounds outer me an’ she wiped t’ board wi’ awd Arthur an’ there’s not many as can do that!”
“She’s a little cracker Don. D’ yer think she might be up fer playin’ fer ‘igher stakes?”
“It’d be your shirt she were off ‘ome wi Jack! Yer’d never get near ‘er drawers!”
“Well one can but ‘ope! I wonder what she’s like at darts!” Julie’s hand to eye co-ordination at darts was very nearly as good as her prowess on a snooker table as Jack Pierce was to learn to his cost. Julie’s dart had thumped with solid finality into the double sixteen whilst he was still struggling along with two hundred plus left on the board. Julie found few brave challengers after that display. After Julie’s sadder and wiser victims had left with their tails between their legs Debra hugged her excitedly.
“Oh Julie! You’re just fantastic! Did you see the looks on their faces? It was so funny!”
“Aye well at least we ‘aven’t ‘ad ter pay fer us drinks Debbie!”
“We’d better not have any more! I’m tipsy as it is!” At this point Debra was interrupted by a loud crash from without. “Goddess was that thunder?”
Julie peered out of the window. “Aye! bl**dy ‘ell it’s teamin’ it down!” Nightfall was beginning to set in and the rain was pelting against the windows.
“Oh Goddess!” squealed Debra in alarm “Look at the time! It’s nearly nine o’clock and we’re supposed to be back by nine!”
“We can’t walk back in this Debbie! We’ve no jackets wi us! We’d get soaked! It’s ‘eavin’ it down!”
“We… we’ll have to Julie! It’s twenty minutes walk back to the house and the Lady’s very strict about punctuality.”
“We’ll catch us death Debbie!”
“Oh damn! I wish I’d taken more notice of the time! We’ll be in awful trouble!”
“T’ Missus won’t expect us to walk back in this lot Debbie! Let’s wait awhile an’ see if it eases off.”
“Oh Julie! Why didn’t we bring an umbrella?” Debra was frantic with worry.
“Calm down love! As soon as it eases a bit we’ll mek a dash fer it.” In the event the rain appeared to have set in although without the venom of its first onslaught. Debra was biting her lip and when the clock approached ten o’clock she was nearly in tears. “All right Debbie! It’s not as ‘eavy as it was. Let’s mek a run fer it!” The two girls were soon flying along in the rain toward Waterstone House. The weather was cruel that evening however for no sooner were they a few minutes on their way when the rain increased in intensity to a drenching downpour. Within a few hundred yards they were soaked to the skin, their clothes hanging on them in sodden rags. To compound their misery Debra, in her haste, stumbled and fell on the dirt track leading across the fields and covered herself and Julie, who had to help her up, in mud. She was crying abjectly and shivering with cold.
“Come on pet!” Julie encouraged her “Not far now!” The last dash was an exercise in sheer wretchedness for the two girls and the warming lights of the big house beyond the last turn were an oasis of salvation as they ran toward them. Once in the hallway they stood and shivered, clutching the wreckage of their clothing about their bodies, and leaving pools of water on the floor. Eleanor had been becoming concerned about their whereabouts and as soon as she heard the door she strode into the hallway to confront the two wretched young girls in astonishment. They were a sight to behold with their hair hanging in soaked disaster over their pinched white faces and their clothes clinging wetly to them in sodden ruin.
“What the blazes do you two think you are doing?” she demanded “It’s nearly half past ten and look at the state of you!”
“I… I’m sorry ma-am.” muttered Debra miserably “We were sheltering from the rain.”
“Obviously not doing a very good job of it! Have you taken leave of your senses? Why the blazes have you gone out without suitable clothing on a night like this? And coming back so late Debra! You were supposed to be looking after Julie and straight away you bring her back at this hour soaked to the skin!”
Debra whimpered in misery “I’m sorry ma-am!”
“Right get yourselves out of those wet clothes, into a hot bath and into your nightclothes this instant! You’ll catch pneumonia stood there like that!”
“Y… yes ma-am.”
“I’ll be in my study. I’ll get Mrs Darcy to make you some supper after you’ve had your bath. Then it’s into bed with you!”
“Yes ma-am.” the two girls fled to the bathroom thankfully. Debra filled the big bath with hot water and they peeled out of their wringing clothes. It was bliss to sink down into the bath and drive the chill out their limbs in the steaming water together. Julie soaped Debra’s back for her and rinsed out her hair feeling a growing fondness for the lovely green-eyed girl.
“I’m right sorry ah got yer inter trouble wi’ yer Missus Debbie.”
“It was my fault Julie! I should have been taking more notice of the time. If we’d set off back in good time we’d have never have got caught in that rain!”
“Well it were me as said ‘ang on a bit ter see if’n it eases off. Ah never thought it’d go on so long.”
Debra hugged her, their bodies warm and soapy against each other in tender embrace. “No Julie. I’ll take full responsibility. I was supposed to be taking care of you as she said.”
“Well give us a kiss anyway Debbie.” Debra smiled and obeyed.
“Eee you taste soapy Julie! Come on turn around and I’ll wash your hair.” By the time they had emerged from the bath their skins were glowing and the chilling rain was a distant memory. They folded each other in warm towels and rubbed themselves dry before using the hair dryers and brushes to put some semblance of order back into their hair. Minutes later they were knocking on Eleanor’s study door in their nightclothes.
“Come in!” the command was imperious and ominously stern. Eleanor was dressed for bed, sitting at her big desk in a dressing gown over gauzy black negligee. Debra and Julie stood before her looking pensive, Debra in a lacy nightgown and Julie in her pink pyjamas. “Are you two properly warmed up now?”
“Y… yes ma-am.” Debra replied penitently.
“I’m very annoyed with you Debra! You should know better than to take Julie out on a rotten day like today without adequate clothing and bring her home so late! Whilst Julie is here we are responsible for her well-being. What would her parents think of us that we had so abrogated that responsibility?”
“I… I don’t know ma-am. I’m really sorry.”
“I have been thinking today that Julie might be the perfect s****r for you Debra. It was my intention to speak to Julie’s parents about the matter. How am I supposed to convince Julie’s parents that she will be well looked after if they know that the minute my back is turned you drag her off into some misadventure? I don’t know what you were thinking of!”
“I… I’m sorry ma-am.” Debra repeated.
“Sorry you will be! We’ve been getting far too slack around this house of late! It’s high time you were taught a little lesson in responsibility young lady!”
“Please ma-am it won’t happen again.”
Eleanor stood and slipped out of her dressing gown, dr****g it over the back of her chair. “Well we shall reinf***e your earnest commitment! Take your nightgown off and lie face down on the desk!” Debra started in shock at her Mistress’s command. Julie started to protest but her words died on her lips at the look of stern resolution in the Lady Eleanor’s face. Eleanor was already striding across the room to a wall cabinet, her negligee clinging to her female curves. Debra saw the futility in protest and pulled her nightgown over her head with tears pricking at her eyes. As Eleanor regarded the choice of implements in her selection in the punishment cabinet Debra climbed up onto the long desk in her white knickers. Eleanor made her choice and Julie gasped as she walked back across the room with it in her hand. It was a thick leather strap, perhaps some two feet long, cut into two strips at its striking end and attached to a wooden handle. Eleanor looked at the trembling figure of Debra stretched out along the desk, clutching the edge of it with her hands. “That’s not good enough young lady and you know it! Please oblige me by displaying yourself properly for punishment!” Debra emitted a pitiful little whimper and raised her hips to slide her knickers down to her knees. Once her bottom was bared she stretched out once more and gripped the edge of the desk with her teeth clenched together and her eyes firmly shut.
Julie watched in fascinated horror as Eleanor raised the strap up well above her shoulder, pausing to let the quivering girl anticipate its first impact. With a frightful sweep of her arm Eleanor brought the strap down hard across Debra’s bottom. Julie jumped at the loud report of the strap and Debra’s eyes flew open as her upper torso jerked up with the fearsome stroke. As Eleanor lifted the strap once more Julie could see the broad crimson stripe that the first stroke had left across Debra’s buttocks. The second stroke was even harder and the twin thongs of the strap curled around the orbs viciously. Debra hissed loudly through gritted teeth, the muscles in her neck bulging as she sought to maintain control. Julie winced at every stinging report but could not wrest her eyes from the spectacle of her friend lying across the desk and convulsing at every agonising stroke of the strap. Her knuckles were white as they clenched the edge of the desk and the strange green eyes were filled with tears but even after a dozen hard strokes to her bottom the punished girl had not given vent to anything louder than strangled gasps and murmurs in the back of her throat. Julie felt sorry for Debra but admired her courage and fortitude. She knew however that Debra’s resilience must have a limit.
Eleanor changed tack and now brought the strap down across Debra’s shoulder blades, reddening them with a series of fast hard strokes. Soft moans were starting to escape from Debra’s lips and her eyes met Julie’s briefly in despair as her flogging continued. Eleanor was talking in irritation as she beat her slave. “Hold still girl! You have thoroughly deserved this! I can’t think what has got into you recently. Well I shall teach you a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry!” She worked her way down Debra’s back and turned her attention once more to the orbs of her bottom already scarlet from their earlier treatment. Lash after lash rained down across Debra’s tormented rear and she began to cry aloud, the cheeks of her face wet with tears. Her cries became all the more demented as Eleanor began to work on the soft flesh at the back of her thighs. The flogging was methodical and relentless as Eleanor moved the focus of her chastisement up and down the naked girl’s body. Debra was shrieking now and pleading for respite but Eleanor continued to whip her mercilessly.
Julie stood riveted by the scene. Debra’s back, bottom and the back of her legs were an angry red in colour. There were bruises appearing on her sides where the strap had curled around her flanks and loins and the centres of her buttocks were turning a livid purple under the onslaught. Tiny flecks of bl**d appeared on her swollen bottom as she howled and wept under her Mistress’s correction. Julie felt torn between conflicting emotions. On one side she felt great pity for the beaten girl and guilty in that she had been at least partially responsible for her fate. On the other side she felt a growing arousal at the sight of Debra’s whipping. It brought to mind the day she had watched Baxter whip Jennifer in the Low Woods whilst she’d masturbated in the concealing bushes. Then there’d been the day when she and Rebecca had caned Jennifer in the hunter’s lodge, the whipping up at Forden Caves and her own beating in the barn at the abandoned homestead. Julie’s nipples were so tautly erect that they were painful and she could feel her sex opening in arousal and the moistness of her juices on her inner thighs beneath her pyjamas. She glanced at Debra’s Mistress, her fine body barely concealed under the thin veil of her negligee. Her full rounded breasts were heaving and there were beads of perspiration on her brow as she belaboured her wayward slave’s body with harsh strokes. Julie could see the distended pupils of her eyes and the partially open lips of her mouth as she flailed away and it was plain that the lady was enjoying chastising her slave. The flimsy negligee did not conceal the erect nipples on her breasts and Julie could even discern the dark vee of her pubic hairs beneath the gossamer covering. Julie knew instinctively that if you ran your hand down and under from that dark triangle you would find a warm place, sopping with moisture, opening invitingly to your caress.
At last Eleanor seemed satisfied. Debra lay prone and limp on the desk sobbing copiously in her pain. “I hope you have learned your lesson young lady! Now stop puling and get up!” Agonisingly Debra heaved herself off the table with her chin quivering and tears streaming down her face. As she stood up stiffly her knickers fell from her knees about her ankles and she stooped to pull them up. “You can leave them down young madam! In fact take them off completely! Stand up against the wall with your hands on your head and your legs apart. No don’t face the wall. You’ve had your strapping now you can witness Julie’s!”
Julie started violently. “Eh what? M… my….. “
“Yes Julie! It’s your turn now! Debra might be guilty of not keeping an eye on you but there’s no excuse for you either. You should know better! Don’t think I don’t know where the two of you were “sheltering” from the rain. When it got so late the first place I phoned up to see if anybody had seen you was the White Monk. The landlady said you had just left after being in there all evening drinking and gambling with the locals! Your parents will be mortified young lady! As soon as you slip the leash you’re off u******e drinking and wagering! Well I’ll not have them say I was letting you run around wild and neglecting my responsibility toward you so you can oblige me by taking your pyjama top off and replacing Debra up on the desk!” Julie gulped and glanced wildly at Debra but there was no help coming from the still blubbering girl. “Come along Julie! I’m waiting!” Eleanor was fingering the thick tawse impatiently.
In a daze Julie walked over to the desk her bottom already twitching in fearful anticipation. She pulled her pyjama top over her head and naked to the waist climbed up to kneel on the desk looking at Eleanor abjectly. Eleanor let her stern gaze slip to Julie’s pyjama bottoms and she nodded significantly. Biting her lip Julie obeyed the unspoken command and slid her thumbs under the elastic of her pyjama bottoms pulling them down to her knees. Once her nether regions were completely exposed for punishment she lay flat on the desk. The polished wood was hard and cool against her breasts and stomach and she glanced fearfully over her shoulder as Eleanor took up position alongside her running the leather of the strap through her fingers. Julie tore her eyes away and focussed instead on Debra, still stood with her hands on the back of her head. She was blinking fiercely and there were still tears trickling down her face. The watery green eyes were fixed on Julie’s prostrate form however. Julie had become aroused watching Debra’s strapping and now she wondered if Debra was feeling the same. It was, of course, quite another matter to be on the receiving end of a belting and Julie had no illusions as to just how painful the coming ordeal was going to be. The last time she had been spanked was by Jennifer with the hairbrush in the bathroom at the Appleton’s house the morning after the crowning ceremony in the village. That had stung to be sure and had left her bottom bright pink but it in no way equalled the severity of the beating Eleanor had just administered to Debra.
She sensed rather than saw Eleanor lift the strap high above her. Instinctively she knew that the first stroke would wrap around her buttocks and she gripped the edge of the desk tightly. Julie was not a girl to suffer in silence and the shocking pain of the leather strap drove a cry of anguish from her throat. For the next few minutes Eleanor worked industriously on the squealing girl. The flogging was every bit as severe as that that Debra had just suffered, covering Julie’s torso from the backs of her legs to her shoulders with angry red swelling. She was brave, Eleanor noted with satisfaction, for while she screamed loudly with each heavy stroke she did not beg or plead, nor did she attempt to squirm out from under the raining blows. Also, although her face was a picture of agonised distress, she took over half the punishment without bursting into tears. That was all well and good but Eleanor needed her to cry cathartically and so she increased the strength and tempo of the strokes until tears began to escape from the tightly shut eyes. For Julie the ordeal seemed interminable. She had pulled herself up onto her elbows arching her back as if that would somehow relieve the awful continuous blaze of pain being dealt to her burning rear and back. She had wanted to hold back her tears but the relentless march of the tawse up and down her naked frame broke her control in the end and finally she cried freely her sobs interrupted by a loud scream at every new explosion of pain across her swollen body. She dreaded the strokes on the backs of her legs the most. The pain of them on that tender flesh was appalling. At one point the tawse curled around her left buttock and the tips of the strap found an entry into the crevice between her buttocks sending a jolt of pain through her as it kissed the bud of her anus. She squeezed her buttocks together tightly and howled at the top of her voice. Through a blur of tears she glanced up to see Debra watching her torment with a comical mixture of horrified pity and deep fascination on her face. After some time she barely registered each new stroke, they all seemed to merge into a blur. Her back, buttocks and thighs were just now a single burning entity. She lost focus on her surroundings and became just a quivering misery of pain jerking with each stroke. Her shrieks lost their volume and descended into a low continual keening.
It was the point Eleanor had been waiting for. “Very well you may get up now Julie.” Her words seemed to come from far away and it was a second or two before they registered on Julie’s brain letting her know that her beating was at an end. Slowly and painfully she eased herself up. Eleanor was watching her calmly, breathing deeply from her exertions. Julie slipped off the desk carefully frightened of falling down and stood up stiffly her pyjama bottoms still around her lower legs. “Step out of your pyjamas Julie and join Debra!” Once Julie had assumed the same stance as Debra with her hands on her head and her legs apart Eleanor addressed the miserable pair. “Now let that be a lesson to the pair of you! Turn around and face the wall!” They turned to stand side by side against the wall and Eleanor stalked up behind them. “You can both remain like that until supper time! Straighten up Debra!” The command was punctuated by the loud report of the strap on Debra’s swollen bottom eliciting a frantic shriek from the girl. “Now not a squeak out of either of you until I give you leave or you’ll be back on the desk for more understand?” The two girls nodded dumbly “Good and the next time there is a repetition of tonight’s disgrace you can expect to be birched!” Debra whimpered under her breath. In the Waterstone household the birch was the most feared instrument of all. Debra had only felt it once but it was an experience that she was in no rush to repeat.
Satisfied Eleanor replaced the tawse in the cupboard and poured herself a brandy from the drinks cabinet. She reclined back in her easy chair and regarded the two young girls with satisfaction. She had to time this period of silent penitence to perfection she knew. They needed just enough time for the pain to die down but not enough for the ache of maintaining their position and boredom to set in. About half an hour should do it. When the burning of their strapping had subsided to a pervasive glow she would forgive them and pamper them, promise them a nice reward for taking their punishment like good girls and send them scampering off to bed with their suppers where they’d climb into bed with each other in mutual commiseration and the heat from their loins would drive them into each other’s arms with mounting passion. Eleanor was very experienced in handling young slaves. She’d raised enough of them and never had a failure yet.
She sighed admiring the two young bodies stood against the wall bearing the marks of their beatings. How lovely they were. When they had scuttled away to bed she would have to see to the urgent demands of her own passion. Chastising the two girls had inflamed her mightily. She let her hand wander to her crutch and squeeze her sex feeling the heat and moisture there. It was late but perhaps Donald and Pauline might be tempted to pop around for a nightcap. She wanted to be ravished, have her negligee torn from her, be taken roughly, be f***ed to perform with the riding crop held over her in threat. Even the Mistress of a grand house needed her moments of submission occasionally.
At last she judged the moment to be right and she pulled a bell rope close at hand. Within a minute Mrs Darcy appeared in the room looking at the two punished girls sourly. “I wonder if you’d make Debra and Julie some hot Horlicks and prepare a tray with some buns and biscuits on Mrs Darcy. I’d make them get their own supper but they’ve been punished and they’re not allowed to move until bedtime.”
“Bin misbe’avin’ ‘ave they ma-am?”
“Yes! Making a disgrace of themselves at the pub and coming home sopping wet and filthy in the rain!”
“Yer too soft on yer young ladies ma-am. In me younger days when Missy Caroline were t’ Mistress in this ‘ouse they’d ‘ave bin sent ter bed wi’out any supper at all!”
“Yes well they’ve been properly punished I can assure you and I’ve promised them the birch if there’s any further similar infractions.”
“Aye that’ll sort their ideas out! Missy Caroline were allus a great believer in t’ birch. She used ter ‘ave ‘er lasses thrashed every month regular as clockwork just ter keep ‘em straight. Fust day o’ t’ month they’d all be lined up in this ‘ere room wi’ nowt on and waitin’ fer an’ ‘idin’. We ‘ad a proper whippin’ bench in ‘ere in them days an’ they’d ave ter tek turns in ‘oldin each other down while she took t’ birch to ‘em. Course folk are a lot softer these days. No wonder t’ young ladies gerrup ter so much mischief! Is this lass ‘ere a new one?” Mrs Darcy pointed at Julie.
“Erm possibly.”
“I don’t know! Not bin ‘ere five minutes an’ she’s gerrin’ inter trouble already! If yer’ll tek my advice Missus yer’ll ‘ave ‘er marched out ter t’ barn, tied ter t’ beams an’ thrashed to within an inch ov ‘er life! That’s what Missy Caroline would ‘ave done! She’d ‘ave showed ‘er t’ error ov ‘er ways an’ no mistake!”
“I shall bear it in mind Mrs Darcy. Now if you would be kind enough to attend to the girls’ supper.”
“Aye I’ll do that ma-am.” Mrs Darcy shuffled off mumbling under her breath “Gerrin supper after misbehavin’! I’ve never ‘eard the like!”
Once the old lady had departed with her tedious reminiscences Eleanor addressed Debra kindly. “Come over here Debra.” Debra turned around and walked over to her Mistress on tenterhooks her face haunted with apprehension. But Eleanor smiled encouragingly at her and held out her hands to take Debra’s in them. In relief Debra saw that she was forgiven. Eleanor’s anger never lasted long and once she had punished her slaves the incident was quickly forgotten. “Turn around and let me look at your back Debra.”
“Yes ma-am.” Debra turned. Julie was still stood against the wall with her hands on her head peering over her shoulder anxiously.
“Hmm. No damage done Debra. You’ll be little sore for the rest of the night and you might have a bit of bruising tomorrow but it’ll soon fade. I’ll give you some lotion to put on your bottom before you go to bed. Turn around.” Eleanor patted her knee and gently tugged at Debra’s hand. Obediently Debra sat on her lap the warmth of Eleanor’s thighs soothing on her burning buttocks. Eleanor loved these moments of intimacy with her slaves when she could have them close, stroke and pamper them. She teased at Debra’s hair affectionately and used a handkerchief to wipe the last of her tears from her cheeks. “You’re a good girl really Debra. You just need correcting occasionally. Have you learned your lesson now?”
“Y… yes ma-am. I won’t do it again”
“I know you won’t Debra. You normally only have to be taught once. Now cheer up my little lovely! I’m going to take you and Julie to town tomorrow and treat you both to something nice.”
“Th… thank you ma-am.”
“We’ll have a nice luncheon and tea at the Royal and do a bit of shopping. You’re going to be Jennifer Walstow-Mathom’s maids of honour at the summer festival aren’t you? Well we can’t have you letting the House down. At the very least we’ll have to pick out a pair of ball-gowns for the festival ball for you won’t we?”
Debra’s eyes were shining in pleasure now “Oh yes! That would be lovely. I’ve only got the one I bought for my debutante ball and that’s ages ago!”
“Well Jennifer’s bound to be strutting around in some fabulous creation courtesy of Mathom Hall and I don’t want you accompanying her in some old faded rags. We’ve got our reputation to uphold dear. We’ll have to find something knockout for you to wear, perhaps something in emerald green to match your eyes. I’ve got a lovely emerald necklace you can borrow to accessory it.”
“Oh ma-am you’re too good to me!”
“Rubbish! I like you to look pretty Debra and at the summer festival ball all eyes will be on you and I’ll not have people saying that I don’t look after my girls. Now then are you still sore?”
“Just a little bit ma-am.”
“I’m sorry I had to spank you Debra but you know you mean the world to me. I was worried sick when you were so late on a wild night like tonight.”
“Yes ma-am. I’m sorry for worrying you and making you angry.”
“Oh I’m not angry any more Debra. I’m just happy that no harm has come to you. You took your spanking bravely and the pain will soon fade. Am I forgiven for punishing you?”
“Oh! Of course ma-am! You were right to punish me.”
“You’re a good girl Debra. Now slip into your night clothes whilst I see to Julie.” Debra slid off Eleanor’s knee happy again now and Eleanor called Julie over. Julie walked over her mind in turmoil. Debra was wincing as she pulled her knickers up. They seemed to be only half their original size as she eased them over her swollen bottom. Debra took Julie’s hands “Turn around Julie and let me see your back and bottom.” Julie turned and flinched as Eleanor ran her fingers over the harsh weals on her buttocks. One of the advantages of using the strap to Eleanor’s thinking was that it rarely left any lasting marks. The centre of Julie’s buttocks were somewhat bruised and she’d probably be a little uncomfortable sitting down tomorrow. Well that was no bad thing. It would help her remember her lesson and keep her meekly obedient for a while although Eleanor was under no illusions. A girl of Julie’s temperament would soon be finding new ways to get into trouble. And that was no bad thing either. Eleanor was attracted to the streak of mischief in her, hopefully, new acquisition. Carefully nurtured and not allowed to lead her into real trouble it was a potential asset. It lay at the root of the young girl’s zest and enthusiasm. It would lend amusement and a touch of devilry to her character. All good thoroughbreds had that irrepressible dash of spirit in them and a wise Mistress kept a leash on it but never broke it. “That’s fine Julie. You’ll heal up soon enough. Come. Sit on my lap for a moment.” Julie obeyed feeling strangely comfortable in doing so. She hadn’t sat on her parents’ laps since she was twelve years old but it felt oddly very natural to nestle on the lap of this maternal woman after she had beaten her. Julie was very conscious of the lady of the house’s sensual allure and she shivered slightly as her bottom rested on the flimsy material of the black negligee.
Eleanor was aware of Julie’s sensations. The girl was meekly penitent and looking sorry for herself but there was no doubt that she was aroused as well. Eleanor could scent her arousal, see her erect nipples and feel the dampness of her sex on her thighs. She laid a hand on Julie’s upper thigh very close to the fuzzy vee of her pubic hair and felt the girl tremble slightly. This was all to the good. Later in the privacy of Debra’s bedroom the heat in her body would drive her into a frenzy of passion. The two girls were as good as lovers already. It was as much to achieve this aim as to punish them that Eleanor had taken the strap to them. She had little doubt that when she took them to town tomorrow they would already locked in the secrecy of intimacy. Eleanor delighted in the thought of the two girls accompanying her to town. She would be meeting friends in town and although they were familiar with Sandra and Andrea they had not seen Debra and not even heard of Julie. It would be entirely agreeable to show off her new slaves in public. In the old days she would have led them around on little silver chains proudly displaying them to her acquaintances. That wasn’t particularly socially acceptable nowadays but it was still a powerful symbol of one’s social status in the Line to parade a coffle of young attractive slaves in public. She’d have them dressed up nicely and on their best behaviour. Anne Withers would be green with jealousy!
“Are you still sore Julie?” she asked.
“A little bit ma-am.”
“Well get Debra to put some ointment on you before you go to bed.” Eleanor smiled to herself. She could see where the action of smearing lotion onto each other’s bottoms would lead immediately. “I’m sorry I had to spank you Julie but really you shouldn’t be out carousing in pubs at your age. You’re not eighteen until October! Your mother would be horrified. You shouldn’t really be drinking at all.”
“No ma-am.” Julie reflected wryly that it wasn’t the only time she’d earned a good hiding for u******e drinking.
“Well now it’s over and done with. We’ll have a nice day in the city tomorrow and I’ll buy you something special for learning your lesson so well. Have you got anything to nice to wear for town with you?”
“Aye… I mean yes ma-am.” Julie blessed her foresight in packing some of her best dresses for her sojourn at Waterstone House.
“Well we’ll see. Otherwise I’m sure we can find something nice to fit you. Tell me now have you thought about your future Julie? I mean what you are going to do for a career and all that?”
“Er not really ma-am.”
“No plans to go to college or anything?
“No. I weren’t much good at school ma-am.”
“Hmm. I suspect your school wasn’t much good at you Julie. You seem a clever girl. I’m sure that you could do better for yourself. We’ll have to look into it Julie. A young lady needs an education you know. It’s about time that somebody took your future in hand. I’m going to have a word with your mother at her convenience on Sunday. Debra here needs a companion and I think you would be just perfect. Possibly we could send the two of you to university together.”
“Me? At university? Eee I don’t know ma-am!”
“Why ever not Julie. I’m sure you could do it if we find a subject that’s right for you. University life is fun and you’d make all sorts of new friends. Then a degree in your back pocket will stand you in good stead for the future. Wouldn’t you like that?”
“I… I don’t know ma-am. I’ve never thought about it!”
“Well you can start thinking. If your mother agrees to my propositions then we’ll soon find you a place at university suitable to your abilities.”
“Don’t ah need qualifications to get inter uni ma-am?”
“Hmmph! We’re not Mathom Hall but at Dorcastle University you’ll find a faculty called the Waterstone Building bequeathed and paid for by this House. We also provide three post-graduate scholarships a year there and fund a professorial seat in the humanities. You’ll have all the qualifications you need my dear! If you were a member of this House they’d lay out the red carpet on your enrolment day even if you couldn’t spell your own name!”
“Blimey! I…I don’t know ma-am! I’d ‘ave ter think about it.”
“Well do so Julie. If you were to join my household as one of my own personal young ladies then you’d need to be fully educated. Would you think about it Julie? Carefully?”
Julie’s mind was reeling. The charade like game she had been playing was catching up on her but there was just a glimpse of a dazzling future, a mirage like vision tantalisingly quivering on the horizon. For long seconds she dared to think of realms she had always known were closed to her. Her stinging bottom was forgotten now as she regarded a fantasy creation of some dream like other world, Julie Hawthorne BA, MA, Doctor Julie Hawthorne! It was absurd but it was delicious to dream for just a little while before the reality of the world came crashing back in. “I…. I’ll think about it ma-am.”
“Good girl!” There was a knock on the door “Ah! That’ll be Mrs Darcy with your supper. Don’t take any notice of her Julie. Her bark’s worse than her bite. Now slip back into your pyjamas and the two of you get off to bed. We’ll have an early start in the morning and a lovely day in town.” Julie dressed hastily and the two girls kissed Eleanor excitedly, their punishment forgotten and dashed up the big staircase, carrying the tray with their supper on, to their room, their heads full of dizzying new ideas.
Once in Debra’s bedroom Debra turned to Julie and cried “Oh Julie! I’m so sorry I got you into trouble!”
“Ah think we got each other inter trouble Debbie love. By ‘ell your Missus ‘as got an ‘eavy ‘and!”
“Julie I’m sorry! She doesn’t spank us often really. Please don’t be mad about it.”
“I’m not mad jus’ sore Debbie. Tell yer what though! I’m keepin’ out o’ t’ White Monk in future! I’d ‘ate ter ‘ave ‘er tek t’ bl**dy birch ter me backside! Ah feel red raw as it is!”
Debra hugged Julie fearfully “Julie please don’t let a spanking stop you from becoming my s****r! Honestly she doesn’t punish us very often. She’s really nice to us most of the time. I want you as my s****r! Really I do! You heard what she said. If she buys you we can go to uni together! Think what fun that’ll be!”
“Ang about Debbie! I don’t know as if I can go to flippin’ university! Ah’m as thick as a plank love!”
“You’re not! You’re not Julie! Don’t say that! You’re really clever! Oh please become my s****r Julie! Please!”
“Well we’ll see love. Nowt’s sorted until yer Missus talks ter me mam an’ dad on Sunday.” Julie felt dreadful. Debra was basing her future happiness on a foundation of false premises and Julie didn’t know how to disillusion her gently. What would she say when she found out that Julie wasn’t really one of the girls that were suitable as a s****r slave to her in a grand house. She felt a great fondness for the lovely shy Debra and it broke her heart to think how devastated she would be to learn that her prospective new s****r was just an ordinary girl after all and not born to the Lady, or Goddess as Rebecca called Her. Julie experienced a wave of sadness at the thought. Just for a little while she had entertained a fantasy above her station and by doing so she threatened to break Debra’s heart in two. She felt a great unfairness in her sorrow. She had so wanted to be a lady of a great house. In such a position her beloved Jennifer would not be ashamed to call her her wife. But Jennifer belonged to the Goddess. Even Debra did. She was just Julie Hawthorne, village shop girl, who ought to know better than to try to emulate her betters.
“Come along love.” She croaked to Debra “Us ‘Orlicks’ll be gerrin cold!”
“Oh yes! Are you still hurting? My Mistress, our Mistress gave me some ointment. Do you want me to put some on for you?”
“Well let’s ‘ave us supper first love.” The two girls ate and sipped the hot milky drink with its delicious malty flavour in contentment. At last they looked to their beds. Julie asked in shyness “Can I climb in wi’ you Debbie?”
“Why of course Julie! I promise I’ll behave.” They both snuggled under the sheets of Debra’s big bed. “Do you want some ointment then Julie?” Debra asked.
“I think I’ll be all right love. Wharrabout you?”
“Oh Julie if you start smearing ointment all over me I’ll get frisky! I know I will and I promised to behave!”
Julie chuckled deep in her throat and, laying her hands on the sweet body beside her, committed herself beyond recall. “I… I don’t want yer ter be’ave Debbie lass!” Debra sighed in sudden complete happiness and thrust her hand down under the waistband of Julie’s pyjama bottoms to clutch at her sex. Julie shuddered in rising pleasure, the heat from her beaten body now just fuelling her overwhelming lust, as she sought out Debra’s naked flesh beneath her nightgown. Out on the landing, beyond their bedroom door, Eleanor listened to their cries and moans of ecstasy with deep satisfaction. She turned and left silently, thoroughly satisfied with her day’s work.
_________________________________________________________________________

... Continue»
Posted by Mikebasil 2 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Lesbian Sex  |  Views: 212  |  
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The Girl on the Train, part 1

First of a multi-part, disjointed but semi-sequential tale I started some time ago. Here's the first part, just a bit of gentle exhibitionism to get started :) Worth pursuing? Comment and let me know!

The Girl on the Train

Part One of ???

Sitting alone on the train, she yawned and checked her watch. It was just before 4am. She'd had to rush to catch this one actually, having finished work at the studio only 20 minutes earlier.
Not many others were up and about at this time, in fact the carriage only contained three other people, two guys and a woman, all sat in reasonable proximity, allowing for the polite distance of personal space.
A movement caught her eye and she glanced over to the youngish guy sat across the aisle from her as he shifted his legs slightly trying to get comfortable. She had grabbed a seat with a table, but even without one, her petite 5'5 frame usually meant that legroom wasn't a problem. He noticed her look and smiled politely, then maybe a little too eagerly. She was attractive, she knew, hence her job in front of the camera, so she was used to it.
The train moved off and picked up speed. As her crossed legs began to roll back and forth slightly with the movement of the train she automatically tugged the adventurous hemline of her denim skirt back down a little. It wasn't particularly short, not compared to most of the ones she owned actually, but even so, sitting as she was had pulled it up to nearly mid-thigh. That didn't really bother her, as it showed off her legs nicely, but as she let her eyes linger on them she saw immediately that, since she'd been in a hurry as she changed before leaving work, she still had on the pair of black hold-up stockings she'd been wearing with her on-screen outfit.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the guy's head turn away from her. Of course, his eye had been drawn to her movement of the skirt, as sure as two iron filings would be drawn to a magnet. His attention reminded her of her work shift this evening and she smiled inwardly, mischievously, and the thought occurred that this trip might not be as dull as usual.
She shifted her position slightly, easing her bottom forward a little in her seat and, as she thought it would, the rough denim stayed in place against the seat, raising the hemline a couple of inches over her thighs. The guy had missed her movement, but she waited patiently, a small flutter of excitement building in her stomach. It wasn't long before the guy glanced back, his eyes flickering over her from top to bottom in the u*********s manner she was used to. This time though, even not properly looking in his direction, she saw his double-take as he noticed the sudden appearance of an inch of stocking top.
She laughed inwardly at the reaction, enjoying the feel of the gaze roaming over her legs. For a little while, no other adjustments were necessary, just that small patch of lace-top was more than enough to hold her target's attention. She commended him; he was trying hard not to gratuitously stare, sometimes managing to last as long as ten or twenty seconds without stealing another glance in her direction.
Feigning boredom, she turned to stare out of her window at the distant splashes of colour slowly flowing by in the midst of the darkness. The view from her window was perfect. Not that there was anything to see outside at 4am, but the reflection cast back from the illuminated carriage showed her prey was taking advantage of her supposed distraction. She grinned behind her hand as she watched him bend forward for a better look at her legs, eyes locked to the lace top of her stocking peeping out from under the tight denim. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed his mobile phone from a pocket and began fiddling with it.
She frowned slightly. That spoilt the game. Here she was, putting on a nice display, and he wanted to chat to some friend? She was about to sit up and tug down the skirt when she caught sight of movement in the window reflection. The guy had finished toying with the phone and swiftly aimed it in her direction, before snatching his arm back and studying the display. Of course. Her good spirits returned. Turning off the camera-phone's snapshot sound effect. Clever boy!
Still gazing out of the window in apparent dreamland, she slowly uncrossed her legs and stretched them out. She wished now that she hadn't changed into her trainers, they weren't as ideal a match to black stockings as a good pair of heels, after all. Still, her voyeur didn't seem to mind, as a second picture swiftly joined the first in his phone's Memory Stick. She wondered idly if she might find herself posted online somewhere soon. It hadn't been the first time.
Bringing her legs back out of their stretch, she crossed them again, this time with her upper leg crossing away from the guy. Her movements had raised the hemline another inch or so, enough to put both of the stocking tops on show, and certainly enough to ensure, as she'd intended, that her upper leg tugged the skirt up far enough to display the entirety of the dark black lace together with a substantial amount of bare thigh. She felt cool air flutter over the bare skin, a nice counterpart to the increasing warmth she felt inside. She took her gaze away from the window now, stretching out her hands on the table top and pretending to study her nails. She spied the guy jerk his head away hastily. So, he still had some sense of propriety. She liked that. That was worth a little more.
A number of times her voyeur chanced a look over, but he didn't seem to fancy his chances with the camera-phone while her attention was in front of her. She thought for a moment for another way to prolong her state of apparent distraction, and then came upon an answer. Her bag was on the seat beside her, on the same side as her window, so she turned and opened it. Peering up in the reflection, she happily saw her voyeur return his full attention to the appreciation of her legs, and she grinned as his phone rose again. He surprised her this time, leaning over a little and reaching out with the phone to get what must have been a good close-up image of her exposed stocking top. She leaned over her bag as a reward, letting her bottom ease up, as she rummaged through the bag. Still leant to one side, she let her legs uncross, extending the upper leg out towards her admirer as if in counterbalance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the phone quickly extended and smirked, wondering if her stretched-out leg afforded a view up under her skirt. From the amount of pictures the guy was taking, she suspected it did.
Of course, she couldn't stay hunched over her handbag for ever. As she wondering what else she might do to prolong the game, the train began to slow, and the automated P.A. announced the first stop along her route. The man across the aisle hurriedly began getting his things in order and as she closed up her bag and straightened, letting her legs cross once more, he stood, reluctantly, she was sure. He paused beside her and seemed about to say something, but instead just nodded with a half smile before hurrying towards the end of the carriage.
As the train pulled away again she sighed. The other two people in the carriage were some distance away, out of her line of sight. No fun to be had there tonight. She tilted her head back in her seat and closed her eyes; it had been a long day.

End of part one. Worth pursuing? The next part is... weird. Comment and let me know!
... Continue»
Posted by abbiuk 1 year ago  |  Categories: Voyeur  |  Views: 1145  |  
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Mom, Dad, and Us Part 2a (the missing part)

After reading Mr22000 remarks I went back into the desk top again and found the missing part misfiled. My apologies. Again I am not the author and the original story name is 'F***ly Games.' Again thank you Mr22000 for making me search again!

Mom, Dad, and Us Part 2a (the missing part)

Lorena thought she had never seen anything so beautiful as her b*****r and the girl, naked together. She had come back too late to actually watch them screwing in the pool, but she knew they had. The look of love was upon them both, and their naked, dripping bodies were glowing with what they had just done.

"Maybe we'd better go in the house," she said. "Somebody could be looking down into the patio from the taller houses over there."

Her b*****r answered with a kind of strangled okay, and Jean smiled wickedly over a bare shoulder as she led the way back into the house, her small but shapely ass swinging seductively from side to side. Lorena followed them, thinking that she couldn't have done better than to bring those two together, Jean was always talking about how she was just about insatiable, that she loved to screw, and Glynn was getting started right.

But Lorena always knew what might have been a faint flash of jealousy. After all, he was her b*****r, and she had taken his boyish cherry. But a moment later, she knew how very foolish that was. If she loved Glynn, she wanted to see him happy, and if he was happy fucking the lovely little redhead, then she could only be happy, too, not jealous.

Besides, she was very interested in seeing him do it to her friend, and all excited about the prospect of joining them herself. Jean Marks turned in the middle of the living room and said, "Here, k**s?"

"Why not?" Lorena asked. "I locked the front door when I came in."

Glynn was staring at her, and she could feel his eyes licking hotly over her tits, so she let the wrap-around towel slide down and expose them. Her nipples were hard and erect, and her pussy was throbbing softly between her thighs. He said, "You really want to join us, s*s? I mean – screw with us?"

"I really want to," she answered. "I never did this before, either, but I'm sure we can work it out and ball."

"Oh yes," Jean breathed heavily. "This ought to be a wild scene for everybody. Oh wow."

Jean had such a beautiful body, Lorena thought; it was so modeled, every tiny curve exactly in place and tantalizingly shaped, the pale white skin flawless and silken. She dropped her towel the rest of the way and let her own body gleam nudely for them.

Bigger than Jean, with different coloring and different shapings, she was just as firm, just as pretty in a sexy design of her own, and the look she caught in her b*****r's widened eyes told her so. She smiled at him, and at the erect pole of his long, slim cock. The boy had just dipped that hard shaft into the red-haired pussy over there, but he was ready to go again.

Funny, she thought, but she wasn't at all embarrassed. It seemed so natural and right that they share their bodies with each other, if that was what they wanted.

"You're really beautiful," Jean Marks murmured.

"Yeah," Glynn agreed, his eyes raking her from head to toe, seeing her snatch, the hard points of her tits. She thrust her groin forward for him, spreading her thighs just a little.

Nobody had ever turned her on like her b*****r; nobody had ever done such a wonderful job of fucking her, and Lorena suspected that they were just beginning to explore and understand the mysteries of each other's bodies.

And there was Jean – ah, yes, Jean of the miniature body so wonderfully shaped; Jean who had been so open about seeking new sexual thrills. Was it bad to look at another girl's body and get excited? Lorena didn't know about that, only that she was stimulated as she had seldom been before.

Jean said, "You were right, Lorena; your b*****r has a wonderfully hard prick. I wish I had a b*****r like him."

"Be my guest," Lorena said, moving closer so that she could bring her belly next to Glynn's.

Their thighs brushed, and she pressed against his cock, pushed it up between their bellies. It was long and round, next to her skin, and she could feel the hungry pulsing of the organ, as if it were about to demand she do something to soften it.

Her nipples dug into his chest, boring hotly there, as insistent as his prick was. Glynn's hands slid over her hips, caressing, and he said, "I still can't believe I'm so lucky."

Lorena kissed him, softly at first, then with an avid fury that thrust her tongue over his own and as far back into his mouth as she could reach. They rolled their nude bodies together, and their hands were everywhere, fondling and cupping, stroking and petting. Their breath mixed hotly, and she found that she was making sensual, thrusting motions with her crotch.

Gasping, she backed away from him, conscious of the new lubrication that was making her pussy oily inside, that was bringing little drops of warm dew to glisten along the cunt lips and among the curly pubic hairs. "Oh wow, Glynn. I could take it standing up like this, but there's Jean…"

Jean came to them, putting a small hand on each of their shoulders.

"To share with, darlings. Look – neither of us wants to be disappointed right away, although I think that Glynn here could go all day, if he wanted. Sa what do you say we – you and me, Lorena – stretch out on the floor here, so that he can take turns."

Lorena stared. "You mean, screw us in turn?"

"Not all the way, baby," Jean grinned. "I mean he screws one of us awhile – without coming – then the other; taking turns that way. Of course, when he has to come, then he can just let it go into whoever he happens to be fucking at the moment."

"That sounds groovy," Lorena agreed. "Glynn?"

"Oh hell yes," he grinned. "Man, oh man! Dipping my wick into two beautiful cunts. one right after the other. I'm liable to flip right out."

Holding hands, Lorena sank to the carpet with the other girl, little hot waves of anticipation skipping madly up and down her spine. It was all so wild, so unreal; all her sexual fantasies were coming true, one at a time.

She didn't have to worry now about how Mom and Dad were getting along, didn't have to feel the antagonism between her parents heavy in the air. She was being loved; she was loving, and the outside world didn't count against that.

The nap of the rag tickled the cheeks of her ass as she sat down, caressed her spine as she lay back, still holding hands with Jean Marks. The other girl's foot rubbed hers and made it tingle. Eyelids fluttering, Lorena looked up and saw her b*****r kneeling between her outspread legs.

Glynn was staring down at her pussy, the fingers of his right hand wrapped around the white column of his cock. It was the first way she'd seen that wondrous prick, since they'd both grown up, when he was masturbating it. The head glowed lavender and it was bluntly pointed; she could see the veins throbbing beneath the shaft, and her eyes briefly touched the sack of his down-hanging balls.

"You first," Glynn said. "You don't mind if my cock-head is still a little sticky from going off inside Jean's pussy?"

"N-no," Lorena answered hoarsely, "I don't mind."

She was shaking inside and out, fascinated by the glistening drop of whitish fluid that dangled from the very tip of her b*****r's cock.

She was also crazily turned on by her hip touching Jean's, by the other girl's softly throbbing presence. Lorena glanced quickly over at her friend, and saw the nipples of the girl's tits standing high and hard, saw the deepness of the green eyes focused upon her own.

"Fuck him hard!" Jean breathed, and squeezed Lorena's hand.

Lorena flinched when her b*****r reached down to caress her hips. His hands ran lightly and teasingly over her belly, barely touched her pussy, then stroked over the extremely sensitive insides of her trembling thighs.

He said to her: "You're so beautiful, s*s! I almost came just looking down at your cunt. Your pussy hair is so deep and thick, and I can see the lips kind of pouting out through the curls."

Glynn touched a fingertip to her labia, and Lorena's hips rolled in immediate reflex. He fondled her dewy cunt lips, tickled into the hairs around her ass, and she heard him catch his breath. Then his finger slid inside her body, feeling around within the tight, hot gripping of her vagina. She gasped as it went in to the knuckle, as the round length of it massaged gently across her stimulated clitoris.

"D-darling," she breathed. "Oh Glynn – I'm so hot I can't wait. Please…"

When he set the pulsing end of his swollen cock-head into the giving hairs of her pussy and pushed it down so that it kissed the hot, wet lips, Lorena clamped down hard on Jean's hand, and her left leg lifted to coil itself sinuously around the other girl's leg.

"So hot," she murmured, her eyelids fluttering, "so very hot inside my pussy…"

"Here," her b*****r said, and shoved the head of his strong young prick into the hungry lips of her steamy cunt. It spread them apart, slid long and round between them, up into the pit of her vagina, up and up until she felt the marvelously soft sack of his balls come to rest in the cleft of her ass.

Head turned aside, she said to Jean Marks: "It's all the way up my pussy, so long and hard. Oohh – I love it; oh, how I love my b*****r's prick!"

Jean turned on her side, rubbing her leg along Lorena's, now able to press the twin mounds of her firmly molded tits into Lorena's shoulder. The piquant face was very close, and so appealing, the deep green eyes smoldering, the pink lips parted in damp invitation.

As Glynn began to stroke his cock within the confines of her shuddering snatch, Lorena did the most natural thing that occurred to her: she kissed the other girl's beckoning mouth. The lips were soft and tender, trembling against her own, and the little hot tongue darted questingly into her mouth where her own tongue met it with consuming passion.

Her b*****r's breath panted hotly into her ear, and his hands took a grip upon the rolling of her hips, pinning them down for a long, conquering moment as he jammed his cock home to the hilt again.

"Uhhh!" Lorena grunted into the other girl's avid mouth, and shivered to the feel of Jean's hands when they started to caress the heavy tenderness of her swollen tits.

It was wild and insane, but her heart threatened to tear out of her chest with crazy leapings of joy, and her lower body moved in sinuously thrusting happiness as her pussy contracted and rode up and down the greased pole of her b*****r's cock. To be fucked by him, of all people, to be screwed by her very own b*****r, while another girl kissed her and played with the rigid nipples of her aching tits – this was all out of the world, so far out she hadn't really imagined it before.

Lorena let herself go, bit down lightly upon the other girl's lips and used her own hands to discover the textured shapings of Jean's breasts. She rocked upon the pistoning cock that moved so steadily and powerfully inside her gripping cunt, reveling in every move of the meaty rod, loving every tiny vein along its length, every miniscule bump and pore of the slippery skin.

She was loved, loved, adored in duplicate and who was to say it was wrong to love one of your own sex? Certainly not anybody who didn't even know how to love on their own; certainly not her mother and father.

Only her beloved b*****r with the steadily surging prick shoved up her pussy; only this gorgeous little girl whose tits felt so wonderful – only Lorena herself, screwing so wonderfully, churning her cunt around the now hammering cock; these were the only people who had any say-so over what they wanted to do, what they needed to do. For each other and to each other.

"s*s – oh wow, s*s! You're so hot and juicy – your cunt is just eating up my prick – oh – ahh – I'm coming, darling. I'm coming!"

With a last, twisting thrust, Glynn shoved his meat far up her pussy, and she felt the head of it bumping her womb, felt the wet slap of his balls in the crack of her ass. Her vagina vibrated strongly around his glans as her b*****r began to come, as he started to shoot the essence of his heaving testicles up inside her snatch.

His hotly bubbling semen splashed against her cervix, flooded boiling into the cup of her cunt, soaking the clinging tissues of her vaginal walls. Lorena flexed her cunt around the embedded cockhead, and when she gave another long, sensuous gyration of her crotch on the shaft, knew her own orgasm as it came rising swiftly from the epicenter of her thrumming clit.

"Umm, umm!" she moaned, her mouth held captive by Jean's, her tongue curling and uncurling with the other girl's. Her belly hammered at her b*****r's pelvis, and she sucked upon Jean's lips while the waves of ecstasy roared throughout her pussy.

Warmly, she swam in a slow river that carried her through undulating curves of soft, sweet flesh, that bore her upon its breast; that yet somehow held her impaled upon the penetration of the adored shaft. Lips nibbled her cheek, her ear, and gentle hands manipulated the cones of her tits; Lorena lay relaxed and limp, unable to remotely imagine any better feelings, any more wondrous place than this moment in enchanted time.

"Terrific," Jean Marks said softly. "I never saw anyone screwed before, and its terrific. Especially when I know I'm going to take that same great prick, in a few minutes."

Slowly, Lorena came back to the world. With some regret, but with more interest, she turned over onto one side, so that she could face the girl. When she made the move, her b*****r's cock slipped from the wet glove of her cunt. She felt its head leaking, and sensed the sticky trail of semen left across the inside of one thigh.

"Can I do anything – anything special?" she asked Jean.

The redhead sat up, her neat little tits bouncing. She smiled and said, "I'd like to ride Glynn this time – that is, if he can go again soon."

"Sure," Glynn said. "Just give me time to catch my breath, and I'll be ready again."

"Isn't he amazing?" Jean asked, coming to her knees and grinning fondly at her new lover.

"That he is," Lorena agreed, for her b*****r was much better than both the lovers she had known, and so ready to screw again, after such a short time between fucks. He was amazing, all right, and very, very special. She would give him anything he wanted, all he needed or craved or desired, no matter how far out his newly awakened sexual tastes might become.

They were all each had – besides a friend like Jean here; if they clung together, gave all they had, took all there was to receive, then what power could separate them?

Not their parents. Lorena would not allow that, now.
... Continue»
Posted by horneman54 1 year ago  |  Categories: Taboo  |  Views: 971  |  
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Aunt Abby and The Artist (Part II)

This is the continuing saga of Abby and her nephew. While it is a work of fiction, it has been inspired by and dedicated to my dear friend Abby Rhodes, in case you haven't already figured that out. I had intended on uploading some of her pictures with her permission, but they wouldn't upload, so if you would like to see more of the incredible woman who inspired this piece of reality-based fiction, here is her page.

http://xhamster.com/user/AbbyRhodes

If you haven't read Part I yet, I suggest you do so. If you have, then on with the show... and there will be a Part III

Aunt Abby and the Artist, Part II

‘This can’t be happening’, Davey thought to himself. There was no way that the most beautiful woman in the world had just given him his first blowjob. This was his Aunt Abby, the woman he idolized, admired and fantasized about… the woman who he had secretly watched lay by the pool in a skimpy bikini as he stroked his boyish cock to his first ever sperm-squirting orgasm. She just couldn’t have sucked his hard penis until he came in her mouth. But as Abby led him by the hand to her bedroom, with her magnificent, naked ass swaying in front of his eyes, he knew that it was all too real.

Davey’s mind flashed back just a few minutes to the moment when his gorgeous aunt took his hard dick in her mouth. He remembered the incredible feeling as it was encased by a warmth and wetness that even his most vivid fantasies could have imagined. Then there was her tongue, and the way it swirled around and around before finding the sweet spot right underneath the head. And finally there was the moment when he surrendered himself to Abby’s expert oral ministrations, and his thick cock began spewing young cum into her mouth as she moaned an approving “um hummmm,” while swallowing every drop of bittersweet juice that he could feed her.

Now as they walked back towards her bedroom, the teenager wondered what was going to happen next. But if he had any worries that the sexual activity had ended for the evening, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Sucking her nephew’s cock, and swallowing his thick load of rich cum had left Abby with a dripping pussy that needed to be satisfied… and she was about to teach her young lover exactly how to do it.

When they reached her bedroom, Abby swung Davey around and pushed him back onto the bed. As he landed on his back with a slight bounce, she could see that his beautiful penis was already semi-erect again, and smiled in approval at the amazing recuperative powers young men had. Then as her eyes moved up from the inflating tube of man-flesh lying on his stomach to his handsome face, she saw a look of apprehension. It was then that she realized things might be moving a little too fast for her virgin nephew, so she decided to slow things down a bit.

Abby crawled onto the bed, and then lay next to Davey with her right leg d****d over his, and her wet pussy pressed against his thigh. At the same time she could feel the length of his growing erection pressing against her hip. As her beautiful face hovered over his, she smiled and whispered, “Davey, can I kiss you like a girlfriend kisses a boyfriend?”

The lump in throat felt like the size of a baseball, so as he stared into her beautiful green eyes he just nodded and said, “Uh huh.”

With her nephew's blessing, Abby leaned forward and gently kissed him. At first she felt his mouth tighten with uncertainty, but as she began massaging his lips with hers, she felt him relax, and the two shared in a deep, romantic kiss. This wasn’t’ their first kiss, but the one they had shared after his blowjob had been urgent and f***eful, while this one was sensual and loving. And as their tongues teased each other, Davey could still taste the feint remnants of his semen in her mouth.

As they kissed, Abby began pressing her pubic mound against her nephew’s thigh, causing small, almost orgasmic tremors to reverberate deep in her groin. She could also feel his cock pressing against her hip as it swelled to a full erection. And Davey could feel the damp, matted hair of his aunt’s full bush pressing against his leg as she ground herself on him in a hard circular motion. What he may not have realized was Abby’s cunt was aching now, and in desperate need of attention.

After showing Davey what a real kiss felt like, Abby looked into his eyes and said, “So did you enjoy your first blowjob?”

“Oh Jeez Aunt Abby, it was the best… I mean you were, the way you… ummm, yeah I really liked it a lot,” Davey replied as he stumbled for the right words.

Abby thought it was adorable that he was still a little uncomfortable, and giggled a little as she said, “Well I’m glad you liked it Davey,” and then she asked, “So how would you like to return the favor?”

“Huh?” Davey asked, uncertain if he understood what she was asking.

But then she removed all doubt when she said, “I’m asking you if you would like to try licking my pussy?”

“Oh wow, I mean yeah I’d really like to try licking your… ummm, you know,” Davey replied, nervously.

Abby giggled again at his awkwardness and then she said, “Davey, it’s okay… you can call it my pussy, or cunt… and you can say, tits, ass, dick, cock, whatever you like… you won’t offend me honey, alright.”

Her nephew smiled, and as he looked at her beautiful face, he inhaled deeply and then said, “Okay… I’d love to eat your pussy, Aunt Abby.”

“Mmmmm… I love it when you talk dirty,” Abby said, half-joking with her handsome nephew, and then she took his face in her hands and pulled his lips back to hers in another deep kiss. As their tongues intertwined again, Abby felt Davey’s hand slide up her side until it cupped her right breast. She moaned softly into his mouth as he dragged his palm across her hard nipple, before he gently tweaked it between his thumb and forefinger.

Tiny electric impulses were traveling straight from Abby's nipple to her groin as her nephew played with the hard nub of flesh. Then, almost instinctively, he broke their kiss and slid his lips down to the nape of her neck. Her whole body shivered as Davey used his lips and tongue to tease the soft skin just above her collarbone, while his fingers kept playing with her nipples. He may not have had any experience, but you certainly couldn’t tell by the way he was finding his aunt’s erogenous zones.

Abby’s breathing was getting more shallow with excitement and anticipation as Davey kissed and licked his way over her chest towards her magnificent breasts. She could actually feel his long, hard cock pressing against her leg as he slid downward, and for a moment she thought about rolling him over and impaling her smoldering cunt onto his magnificent organ… but instead she allowed him to continue his exploration of her body. Then suddenly she felt his warm breath bathing her nipple, right before he sucked the hard tip into his mouth.

“Oh God Davey… YES,” Abby cried out as she felt his lips lock onto the excited nub of female flesh. Her back arched in an uncontrollable reaction of pure pleasure, almost disengaging Davey’s mouth from her nipple, but her young nephew was relentless as he began swirling his tongue around and around on her areola, and flicking at the eraser-like tip.

Davey moved from one breast to the other, using his lips and tongue to torment his aunt’s excited nipples while his hands kneaded her ample tit-flesh. Abby had never had an orgasm solely from someone sucking her nipples, but she could actually feel the muscles deep in her groin beginning to tighten, and thought that it might happen. But just as she thought she might cum, Davey’s lips left her breasts and began kissing their way downward again towards their final destination… her cunt.

Abby was moaning steadily as Davey’s lips traveled over her soft belly, and as he did he moved his body so he was lying between her legs. When his mouth had made its way to just above the thick triangle of soft pubic hair covering her mound, he turned his head and used his tongue to trace the tattoo on her left hip, and then did the same to the one on her right hip. This move made Abby’s magnificent ass involuntarily lift from the bed, and she let out a squeal as he tickled her body art with the tip of his tongue.

As Davey’s tongue expertly teased her, Abby couldn’t help but wonder how this inexperienced young boy had learned to be so sensual. But she didn’t have long to contemplate the question, because she suddenly felt her nephew’s hot breath penetrating her thick layer of dark pubic hair and washing over her mound… just fractions of an inch above her aching pussy.

Davey’s face was now dangerously close to his aunt’s drooling pussy, but before the teenager took his first taste of a woman, he decided to burn the moment in his memory forever. First he took a close-up look at her womanhood, and saw how swollen and wet the outer lips had become, and how her juices had matted the dark pubic that surrounded her opening. Then he inhaled deeply, allowing the scent of Abby’s pussy to permeate his nostrils and excite his senses. She smelled earthy and enticing as the pheromones she emitted caused his nostrils to flare, and his cock to twitch against the mattress.

Both of their hearts raced as Davey’s face hovered over Abby’s quivering cunt. They seemed to know this was a moment that neither of them would ever forget, and as Abby raised herself to look down at her nephew, she found him staring right back at her. Then as the two looked into each other’s eyes, Davey leaned forward, extended his tongue, and licked a woman’s pussy for the first time.

“Yesssssss,” Abby hissed as she felt her nephew’s tongue slide up and down her swollen labia. Her back arched and her head fell back as he began lapping away at her dripping cunt. She didn’t know if it was by design or wonderful coincidence, but Davey’s tongue would always stop just short of her hard clit, extending her pleasure. He seemed like a natural, dipping his tongue deeper and deeper into her steaming cleft with each up and down stroke, but saving the best for last.

Now Davey was actually tongue fucking his beautiful aunt. He couldn’t believe how wonderful her thick juice tasted as it leaked from deep inside her cunt and collected on the thousands of taste buds that covered his tongue. It was pungent but not unpleasant, a syrupy liquid that coated his lips and bathed his tongue with an odd combination of savory and sweet. At that moment he decided it was the most delicious thing that ever entered his mouth.

Abby was grinding her mound up towards Davey’s face… forcing his tongue deeper into her pussy, and at the same time trying to make some sort of contact with her clitoris. What she didn’t know was that her cute nephew had done his homework. A friend had given him a ‘how to’ sex book, and the teenager had been fascinated by the chapter on how to perform cunnilingus, and now he was finally getting to put that knowledge to use. He had been purposely avoiding any contact with his aunt’s clitoris until she had reached a frenzied state, just as the book said. And now that he had her writhing and squirming beneath him, he decided he had teased her enough, and used his tongue to launch a full scale assault on her nerve-filled pleasure bud.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Abby screamed as Davey’s tongue flicked and stabbed at her overexcited clitoris. The muscles in the walls of her cunt immediately began to contract, as did the tight ring of tissue around her puckered anus. The beautiful thirty-something woman was being expertly eaten by her teenage nephew, and she was on the verge of an epic orgasm. But before she allowed herself to cum, she reached down and reluctantly pulled his handsome face away from her pussy, and as she tried to catch her breath she gasped, “Wait a sec… second Davey… just wait a… a second.”

“Am I doing something wrong Aunt Abby,” Davey asked in a disappointed voice, his lips, cheeks and chin glistening with her secretions.

Abby’s chest was heaving as she wheezed, “Oh God, not at all baby… I just want to do something I’ve… I’ve always loved.” Then as she said, “I want to sit… sit on your face.”

It was true… Abby had always loved sitting on a man’s face. For some reason it was a fetish she had always had, and now she wanted to do it with her handsome young nephew. But Davey wasn’t really sure what he needed to do, so Abby had him roll onto his back, and turned herself around until her knees straddled his head… and then she slowly lowered herself until her hairy cunt and magnificent ass covered his face and mouth.

Davey was having difficulty breathing as his aunt ground down on his face… with her thick ass cheeks surrounding his nose and her dripping pussy covering his mouth. But that didn’t stop him from wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking it between his lips, and then forcing the tip of his tongue underneath its protective hood and flailing it against the hard, nerve filled organ.

“Oh God Davey… that’s it,” Abby cried out as she pressed her hairy cunt onto his face. The amount of juices pouring from her pussy, combined with the sheer size and weight of her ass surrounding his nose, caused Davey to keep adjusting himself to get air, but the eager teenager kept relentlessly attacking her clitoris with his tongue. It wasn’t long before Abby was approaching orgasm again, and that was when she reached down and took Davey's cock in her hand, then leaned forward and sucked it into her mouth.

“Mummmppphhh,” Davey grunted into his aunt’s crotch as she sucked his raging prick deep into her mouth. He hadn’t anticipated this, but the incredible feeling didn’t stop him from the task at hand.

Abby was groaning around Davey's thick cock shaft as he brought her closer to orgasm. The sound of him gasping for air, but never taking his tongue from her clit, was driving her on even more. Just then she took her mouth from his prick, and as she continued jacking his swollen organ with her hand she groaned, “Oh God Davey, don’t stop… you’re going to make me cum baby.”

Abby's words inspired Davey. He didn’t care if he suffocated while doing it, he was going to make his beautiful aunt have an orgasm. It was getting more difficult to breathe, but he just kept moving his face to get just enough air to continue, because there was no way he was going to stop. Even her hand jerking his cock had become unimportant… all that mattered was pushing her over the edge. Then just as he feared he might actually pass out from lack of oxygen, Abby arched her back and screamed, “Oh fuck Davey that's it… I’m CUMMMIIINNNGGGG!!!”

It felt like an earthquake hit Abby’s groin as spasm after orgasmic spasm rocked her pussy. Tremors erupted deep in her cunt and then radiated throughout her body as she experienced one of the strongest climaxes of her life. When she arched her back, her fleshy ass cheeks lifted, allowing Davey to breathe through his nose as he kept licking her clit. Abby was crying out incoherently as she came, and Davey could actually feel the contractions deep in her pussy as they f***ed more of her sweet juices into his mouth.

“Oh yes… oh God yes,” Abby moaned over and over as her convulsing groin muscles finally started to relax. Davey kept gently licking her pussy as her orgasm started to wane, and as he felt her body start to go limp, he gave her one last surprise when he gripped her full round ass cheeks in his hands, spread them wide, and then tickled the tiny rosebud of her asshole with the tip of his tongue… causing her to squeal with delight.

As her orgasm ended, Abby rolled off of her nephew and then turned around so she was lying next to him again, and then she gave him another long, romantic kiss. Davey could feel her still breathing hard as their tongues tangled, first in his mouth and then in hers as they took turns being the aggressor. She could also taste her own pussy juice on Davey's lips… a taste the teenager had quickly learned to love.

When they finally broke their kiss, Abby leaned her face over his, and with a satisfied grin she said, “There is no way that was the first time you’ve licked a woman’s pussy… you were amazing!”

Davey just smiled proudly and said, “It really is… but I did read a book about it once and tried to do what it said.”

Abby laughed and said, “Well make sure you tell me the name of that book so I can send the author a ‘thank you’ note.” And then she said, “Is that where you got the idea to lick my bum too.”

“Uh huh,” Davey said as he nodded, and then he asked, “Did you like when I did it?”

“Very much,” Abby replied, and then she said, “You’ve always liked my ass… haven’t you Davey?”

After everything they had done, this question still made the teenager blush, but he answered honestly when he said, “I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Now it was Abby’s turn to blush, and as she whispered, “Thank you Davey… that’s really lovely,” she d****d her leg over him again, and that was when she felt over eight inches of hard, thick cock pressing against her thigh. Even though he had already cum twice… once when he jerked off upstairs, and again when Abby had sucked him off, his teenage libido and his sexy aunt had him ready to go again.

Without saying a word, Abby’s hand slid down his body, and then he let out a low moan as her soft fingers wrapped around his hard shaft. Slowly she began masturbating him, at first just staring into his eyes without saying a word. Then Davey could see a pensive look come onto her face, and at the same time he could clearly see her eyes begin to mist over with tears. The sensitive teenage boy was immediately concerned and asked, “Aunt Abby… are you alright?”

Abby sniffled a bit, and then as a single tear rolled down each cheek, she smiled and said, “Davey, I never expected this to happen, and part of me thinks I should feel guilt or shame, but I don’t… in fact, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”

Davey’s compassion got the best of him, and as tears welled in his own eyes, he softly said, “Well this is the happiest day of my life Aunt Abby.”

As her hand kept slowly stroking his rigid penis, Abby said, “I’m glad Davey, because I don’t want this to have any bad affects on you. I want the next few days to be a wonderful experience for both of us, and when it is done, I want you to go home and find a girl your own age to fall in love with, and show her all the wonderful things you are going to learn here… but I always want this to be a special memory for you.”

Davey understood what his aunt was trying to say, and as he fought back his own tears he said, “I know we aren't going to be, like, boyfriend and girlfriend Aunt Abby, don’t worry… but this will always be more special to me than anybody will ever know.”

With that the two hugged each other like they never wanted to let go, and then with her hand wrapping around his cock again, Abby said, “The other reason I got a little weepy is because I have something very personal to ask you… and I don’t want you to let the excitement of the moment make your decision.”

“What is it Aunt Abby,” Davey asked, truly having no idea what could be more personal than what they had already done.

Abby took a deep breath, and then as she looked into her nephew’s eyes she said, “Davey, if you want to wait until you do meet that special someone, and have sex for the first time with her I will totally understand,” and then as tears filled her eyes once again she said, “But if you are certain it’s what you want, I would love to be your first.”

Davey’s own tear ducts began flowing as he said, “Aunt Abby, I’ve dreamed about doing this with you since the day I learned what sex was, and there is nothing in the world that would make me happier than for you to be my first.”

Abby was overjoyed, and she released his throbbing cock and wrapped her arms around her nephew. And as tears streaked both of their faces they shared another deep, romantic kiss. As their lips pressed together and their tongues dance a sensual tango, Abby rolled until Davey was above her. Then she felt him shift his body until his legs were between hers, and the entire length of his cock pressed against her lower belly and pubic mound.

Davey could feel the thick patch of his aunt’s pubic hair tickling his balls and pressing against shaft. Then as he lifted himself he felt Abby’s hand slip between their bodies as she reached for his twitching cock once again. As her fingers wrapped around the swollen column of excited flesh, they broke their kiss and stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

Abby maneuvered Davey’s hard shaft until the swollen head of his prick came in contact with her puffy, wet pussy lips. At first she held him in place, allowing both of their minds to process the moment, and prepare for the incredible event that was about to take place. Then as she pulled his face to hers and kissed him again, she released his cock and he began to enter her.

A low groan emanated from deep in Abby’s throat as she felt the bulbous head of her nephew’s magnificent organ pressing against her wet pussy lips. Then as Davey began to push forward, she broke their kiss and looked at him … wanting to see his face as he was losing his virginity. Slowly he fed himself into her, and Abby’s moaning became louder as she felt the swollen knob pass through the outer lips of her cunt, followed by the thick shaft as it stretched the velvety walls of her pussy, and filled her like she hadn’t been filled in years.

Inch by inch Davey pushed himself into her, concentrating on the new sensations, and making a permanent memory of how amazing his aunt’s tight cunt felt as it gripped his shaft. He had fantasized about this for years, and now that his dream was coming true, he wasn’t about to rush the moment.

He could see the pleasure on Abby’s beautiful face as his cock began to stretch her pussy, and the two of them moaned out loud as with one last push, the head of his cock pressed past her cervix, and their pubic bones met. Now, for the first time in his young life, Davey’s hard penis was buried deep inside a woman’s vagina, and it was the woman he had desired his entire life... his Aunt Abby.

Abby’s legs were spread wide, and her hands reached down and cupped Davey’s small ass cheeks, holding him deep inside her as she relished the moment along with him. She was still overcome by the emotions of knowing that she was taking her nephew’s virginity, and tears still filled her eyes as she released his buttocks, and then she groaned aloud as he began slowly fucking her.

Davey had never felt anything as amazing as his aunt’s tight pussy gripping his cock as he began plunging it in and out of her. Even the incredible blowjob she had given him earlier felt completely different from this, and as he looked down at Abby’s beautiful face, his hip movements became more f***eful, and he began fucking her faster and harder.

Abby’s hips began rising to meet his thrusts as his strokes became deeper and more deliberate. At first Davey had been making love to his aunt, but now his cock was like a jackhammer, and as the hard shaft and puffy head invaded every inch of her womanhood, Abby felt another orgasm starting to build.

Davey’s face was becoming distorted as his own passion began to rise, and Abby could sense that he was going to cum soon. She thought about asking him to fuck her doggie-style… her favorite position, but she decided she wanted to be able to see his face as he filled her pussy with a load of hot cum for the first time, so instead she urged him on by saying, “That’s it Davey… fuck me honey, fuck my tight little pussy.”

Abby’s naughty words of encouragement spurred Davey’s desire, and while she didn’t think it was possible, it felt like his long, thick cock was actually going deeper inside her. She could feel her groin muscles starting to tighten involuntarily, which surprised her a little because she didn’t always have an orgasm from intercourse… but this wasn’t just anyone’s cock pounding in and out of her, it was her teenage nephew’s, and that thought was making the moment even more exciting.

Davey could also feel the tension at the base of his erection building as he fucked his beautiful aunt. He had fantasized about her since he learned to masturbate, and now he was actually having sex with her. The feeling was so intense that if he hadn’t already had two orgasms, Davey probably would have cum the minute his cock entered her tight cunt. Instead he was able to hold back, and give his aunt a long, hard fucking.

“Oh God Davey… that’s so good,” Abby groaned as she lifted her plump round ass off the mattress, forcing as much of her nephew’s magnificent cock as deep in her cunt as she could, and causing his pubic bone to slam against her clit over and over with each hard thrust.

Davey could feel the muscles in the walls of her vagina gripping him like a vice, and as his balls starting to pull up against his body, and the tension at the base of his penis reached a breaking point, he groaned, “Aunt Abby… I’m gonna cum soon.”

That was all Abby had to hear, and as she gripped his ass with her hands, she growled, “That’s it Davey, cum for me for me... shoot all your hot cum in my pussy.”

Even in his wildest fantasies he had never imagined his beautiful aunt using words like that, and as she begged him to cum inside her, he began slamming his cock into her tight cunt until with one last violent thrust, the base of Davey’s prick began contracting uncontrollably, and he screamed, “Aunt Abby… I’m CUMMMIIINNNNGGGG!”

Abby's pussy was gripping Davey's thick cock so tightly that as he cried out, she could actually feel the shaft jerking and twitching as his searing hot cum splashed against her cervix and coated her vaginal walls. Feeling her nephew cumming inside her pushed her own senses beyond the point of overload, and as she screamed in pleasure, her cunt suffered its own nuclear meltdown.

“OH FUCK DAVEY… YEEESSSSSSS,” Abby screamed as her orgasm ripped through her body. The muscles deep in her groin began to involuntarily clench and release as she came, and the feeling of her nephew’s spurting cock flooding her cunt only intensified her climax. As Abby came, Davey could feel her pussy milking his jerking cock. The feeling was overwhelming for both of them, and as they surrendered their bodies to their mutual lust, their mouths devoured each others in an urgent, passionate kiss.

Davey kept slowly thrusting his cock in and out of Abby’s trembling pussy, keeping both of their orgasms going until the spasms at the base of his cock finally stopped, and then with one last plunge he buried himself inside his aunt’s pussy, and then collapsed on top of her.

Abby could feel his warm, sticky cum leaking from her pussy as Davey’s cock began to deflate. Rivulets ran down over her asshole, causing her to shiver as it tickled the sensitive area. She wrapped her arms and legs around her handsome teenage nephew as her own orgasmic spasms came to an end, and then she kissed him on the neck and as tears filled her eyes once again she whispered, “Well you can’t say you’re a virgin from now on.”

Davey’s heart was still pounding from a combination of physical exertion and pure joy as he lifted his head and looked into his aunt’s eyes, and as he did he said, “Please don’t be sad Aunt Abby… I really wanted you to be my first.”

As tears rolled down her cheeks, Abby said, “These aren’t tears of sadness Davey… in fact I’ve never been happier.”

Davey fought back his own tears as he whispered, “Me too… this is the happiest day of my life.”

And as the two kissed again, one thought ran through both of their minds… they still had two days left to continue their sexual exploration.

FIN

As always, this copyrighted story is property of the author. It is a work of fantasy, is protected by law, and meets all federal and state statutes involving written erotica. Any attempt to reproduce this story will be met with legal action.
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Posted by DizzyD427 1 year ago  |  Categories: First Time, Mature, Taboo  |  Views: 2967  |  
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The Businessman - Part 2

The Businessman - Part 2

By SpectreOfHell

Kyle Richardson sat at his desk getting nothing done. It had been like that for a week now, ever since he'd hired Sandy to be his part-time secretary. It had been a bad decision on many levels. The eighteen year old girl was a terrible typist, was still learning the filing system, could only work three hours a day after school, and he wanted to fuck her in the worst way. She glanced up from her desk, sensing his eyes upon her again, and gave him a friendly, almost encouraging smile. If she had felt traumatized by what he had done to her during her interview, she showed no sign of it now.

Kyle ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. The taste of her young pussy was long gone, but the memory of it lingered. She had been spread out right her in front of him, on his desk, with her too-dark pantyhose pulled down far enough for him to have access to her crotch. She'd left a puddle on his desk after he had let her up, and the stain of her juices was a constant reminder to him of what had occurred. He had lost control. The pressures of his life, losing his marriage the way he had, his loneliness, all piled up to beat down his reserve, and goddamnit she had been so willing!

He just knew that if he asked her to come in here and spread herself again, she would do it. He had made it clear in the interview that it would be a part of her job, and she had accepted it. Yet for a week now he had not dared to even flirt with her. She was eighteen, so she was legal even though she was still in high school, but it was still wrong. He was her boss, he was old enough to be her father, and he could tell she was as inexperienced as they came. Not even pretty, he told himself, looking at her somewhat tangled mop of curly hair, noting the black plastic rims of her eyeglasses, seeing the glint of her braces when she smiled at him. She was wide in the hips and small in the chest, pale skinned and...and...

He thought he was falling in love with her.

It wasn't fair! She liked the same books he did, the same music, the same television shows. She even loved Chinese food as much as he did. If he had been younger he would have fallen over himself wanting to date her. Or if she had been older. He looked up again. The angle of her desk meant he could see partially behind it, and she had turned her knees toward him as she held her most recent attempt at typing, proofreading before bringing it to him. The dress she wore that day was a brown and orange and navy-blue flower print disaster, like something she might have stolen from her grandmother's closet. But the hem came to her knees, and as she sat it had ridden up, showing off the ivory-colored hose she wore today. Twisted as she was, the hem came up a little farther, and her knees drifted apart giving him a peek into the shadows between her thighs. He was rock hard before he realized he was getting an erection

She stood up suddenly and walked into his office from the outer reception area. "Mr. Richardson, I think I got it right this time," she said. She halted in front of his desk and held out the paper. He was grateful she couldn't see the tent in his pants through the desk.

"Good work, Sandy," he said, taking the sheet.

"You haven't even looked at it," she said with a gentle laugh. How could she be so relaxed around him? He had f***ed her to let him eat her pussy. He'd had every intention of fucking her that day before he chickened out. Yet she didn't seem to harbor any ill feelings whatsoever. Smiling at her friendliness, he glanced over the paper she'd handed him. He found three typos in as many seconds.

"Better," he said. "But, ah...sometimes you use the wrong word. Like here you typed 'bare' instead of 'bear.' One means a to carry, the other means naked."

"Huh?" she said, confused. She crossed around behind his desk before he thought to say anything to dissuade her. He turned so that he could show her the paper. She leaned slightly into him, bending at the waist, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He was acutely aware of the scent of her, like roses. The warmth of her radiated through her dress and his shirt right down to his bones. She was soft, pliable, a tiny little beauty next to him. It was horniness that made him think she was beautiful, he told himself. If he thought she was ugly, he wouldn't want her, so he tried to focus on what was unattractive about her. But at the moment, nothing was coming to mind.

"I see what you mean," she said, straightening but not pulling away. "It's kinda funny. 'Bare in mind,' like I typed, sounds like I'm saying think about me naked!" She laughed, but it died quickly as she saw the look on his face. She blushed.

"Sandy, we should talk," he said, the words spilling out. "About...about last week. What happened."

"You want to do it again?" she asked. His instinct was denial, but there was something unexpected in her voice. Not dread, not resentment or anger...it was hope. Yearning. For the first time he realized that what he'd done to her might not have been wholly unappreciated.

"Yes," he said. The word just jumped from his lips.

She trembled slightly against him. "I'll go lock the door," she said quietly. The pressure of her body on his arm eased as she pulled away. He watched her walk into the other room slowly, thinking that her speed was an indicator of reticence. She locked the door, however, and pulled the blinds, too, and then returned to him, crossing around behind his desk once more. There was no fear on her face. She really was eager.

Barriers fell away in his mind. If this was something she wanted, then he wasn't being a monster at all. It was okay. It was right. He slid to the edge of his seat and reached for her, laying his hands on her hips. She put her hands on his arms lightly and caressed him encouragingly. He pulled her closer, the outside world fading into a dream as his universe filled with her presence alone. His face pressed into her soft, protruding belly and he inhaled her aroma deeply. One of her hands moved from his arm to his head, softly caressing his hair. This was not a young woman in the midst of sacrifice, giving of her body in order to secure her employment. She wanted him. He had to believe that.

Hands shaking with excitement, he lifted her dress, sweeping it up her legs to her hips and revealing her round thighs. Through the semi-transparent white nylon of her pantyhose he saw dark-colored panties. Nothing sexy. They were practical, the kind any high school girl might wear when she thought no one would ever see them. He ran his hands behind her and gripped the copious globes of her soft ass. She inhaled sharply and her hand clutched his hair. He felt an urge to apologize, but it would have been wrong to do so. He wasn't apologetic. And she didn't deserve pity for wanting what he was going to do.

Questions flooded his thoughts. Had she ever been licked before he had done it? He had discovered a lack of a hymen, but did that mean she had been penetrated? He wanted to kiss her and wondered if she had ever been kissed before. How innocent was she? How much innocence did she wish to shed? Fingers curled around the tops of her pantyhose and pulled them down quickly, bringing her dark panties with them. She trembled more now, maybe afraid of his lust, maybe simply thrilled. He couldn't decide if he cared. Using his feet, he pushed away from the desk and leveraged her around so that she was between his chair and the flat surface where she had lain once before. Without needing to be told, she shifted herself up and onto it.

He struggled to recall why he had thought her plain and unattractive. As she leaned back on his desk, bringing her feet up to the edge and allowing her creamy, pale thighs to part, she was beautiful. Sure, it was an unrefined loveliness, but the potential was there, shining through. She gazed at him through the lenses of her eyeglasses, chewing her lower lip in apprehension, allowing him to glimpse the pale green rubber bands on her braces. He thought his cock would rip it's way out of his pants like the Hulk on a rampage. Her aroma wafted up to him, heady and thick with hints of sweat and arousal. She was hesitant because she was shy, wanting to expose herself to him so that he could pleasure her yet afraid of allowing him to see her at the same time. That was the fear born of rejection. This girl had been pushed aside so many times that she had come to believe she was not worth the effort, and so made little effort herself. But when she looked at him, when she saw the desire etched so plainly on his face, she found hope enough to believe she had been wrong all these years.

With a whimper, he pushed his face between her thighs. He couldn't quite lick her with her pantyhose still on her and in the way, so he pushed her legs back with his ands behind her thighs, forcing her knees almost to her nearly flat chest. Her pussy flowered open before him. She was far more excited than she had been the first time. Now she knew what to expect. Inner labia splayed out pinkly, glistening with moisture, while her clitoris peeked out at the top. Kyle licked her from bottom to top, the way a hungry man would lick a dripping ice cream cone and gathering up just as much spilling liquid. He closed his mouth and swirled her flavor around on his tongue. Stronger today. Salty and sharp at the same time. He licked her again, delighted to hear a moan escape her lips, and paused at the top of her valley to circle his tongue around her nubbin.

He had a variety of techniques to use, all of them rusty from long years of little use. It didn't matter. He could have been completely inept and he would have been able to get her off. She was primed and ready, her reluctance crumbling beneath her swelling ardor. He thrust his tongue between her pussy lips, he pushed it inside her, he suckled everything and ran his tongue flatly over her clit, all to the accompaniment of her almost continuous panting and moaning. He dipped lower, daring to lick her rosebud. She was meticulously clean, maybe in anticipation of his tongue. Had she been like this every day at the office? Ready for him, just waiting for him to ask for a repeat, too shy to initiate the encounter herself? He pressed his tongue against her asshole, encouraged by a deeper moan from her, and felt her sphincter relax enough to allow him inside.

This was a first for him. A woman's ass had always seemed so, well...dirty. There was no bad smell here, and certainly no bad taste. Only soft skin, eager flesh, the feel of her quivering transmitted through her body into his. He quickly returned his attention to her pussy but replaced his tongue with a wriggling finger. She tensed, blocking his entrance when he had gotten in to the first knuckle, but then relaxed again as his lips thrummed over her clit. She relaxed, and his finger sank into her. He moved back and forth, fucking her ass with his digit, working deeper until he had no more finger left to give her. Anal sex had always seemed foreign to him, like the idea of beautiful Rome far across the sea, a place he wanted to visit one day but never expected to actually experience. His ex-wife was repulsed by even the idea that her asshole could be erogenous. Sandy might not have known before that she enjoyed anal play, but she sure seemed to love it now. When he concentrated his mouth on her clit and added a finger to her vagina, she came like a bomb.

She arched her back, thrusting her nethers hard against his face. Her voice was lost momentarily as breath rushed from her lungs, but like a building wind it returned, echoing loudly off the walls in the most wanton moan he had ever heard. Her young, tight pussy clamped down on his digit as hard as he rectum did, followed by intense vibrations as her muscles went crazy. Wetness flooded over his hand onto the desk again. She sucked in a breath, collapsing onto her back, only to arch her back again and thrust, crying out loudly in continued or renewed orgasm. When she settled down again, he could tell she was spent. He moved his fingers gently inside her, lapped at her flowing lubrication, and eased off slowly.

He stood. Desire consumed him. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his belt buckle loosening. She pushed herself weakly onto her elbows and peered through her legs at him, watching him shove down his pants first and then his boxers to reveal a cock harder than he had ever had before. Her eyes widened. "I...I want you, Sandy," he croaked.

Sea green eyes darted up to his brown ones. "You mean...go all the way?" she asked. The hesitancy was plain in her voice. He was not the kind of man who could f***e himself onto a woman. She had to say yes. She had to mean it. He nudged closer, allowing his cock to touch the soft skin of her inner thighs. His dick pulled him toward her pussy like a magnet to steel. "I...I..." she stammered, "I'm not on the pill or anything."

He groaned inside. He didn't have any condoms. But he didn't think that would have mattered anyway. She wasn't ready. "Have you ever, uh...ever sucked a guy before?" he asked hopefully.

"You mean sucked his...his thing?" she asked.

It was almost funny. "Yeah," he said. "Can you do that for me? Please?"

She hesitated. His cock throbbed against her soft skin. Her shoeless, stocking covered feet rested against his sides. It would be so easy to just push forward, bending her legs back, entering her, taking her. He couldn't do it. "I can try," she finally offered.

Good enough.

He moved back to give her room and watched her sit up, trying to keep herself covered from his hungry eyes. It was cute. She slid off the desk onto her stocking feet, reminding him how petite she really was with the top of her head level with his upper lip. She tugged her panties up first, followed by her hose. He didn't object. He would rather have gone the other direction and seen her totally naked, but now he was convinced that would happen in time. "How do I do it?" she asked, looking up at him.

"You know how it works, right? I mean the basics of it," he said.

She nodded. "A little, I guess. I mean, I put it in my mouth and...suck?"

"That's almost right," he said. "Here, I'll sit down, and you get on your knees in front of me. Okay?"

"Okay."

He eased himself into his chair, shoving his pants and boxers the rest of the way down to his ankles. Her eyes widened as she got her first really good look at his cock. He wondered if it was the first she'd ever seen. Slowly, but not exactly reluctantly, she got down on her knees. "Move closer, between my legs," he urged, and she did, letting her elbows rest on his knees and laying shaking hands on his upper thighs. He told her, "Take me in your hand. Yeah, just like that. Gently. Squeeze gently."

Her hand was silky soft and looked incredible holding his cock. She looked incredible. Beautiful. When she smiled up at him, obviously enjoying fondling him, it didn't matter about her hair or the braces or the glasses or the pear-shaped body. She really was a very attractive young woman. With some coaxing and a little instruction, she began to stroke him. He was so close to cumming already that the slow pace actually helped him last longer. By the time her lips touched the tip of his cock, though, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

Inch by inch, she took him into her young mouth. She was clumsy a little, scr****g him with her teeth several times, pulling up on his cock with her hand too firmly, but that didn't matter. Drool ran down his shaft and her tongue rubbed the sensitive underside of his cock, her hand followed her mouth up and down, its passage eased by her spittle. He gripped the armrests of his chair so hard his knuckles were white. "Oh, Jesus, Sandy," he moaned. "That's SO good!"

She smiled around his cock, pleased by his praise. A moment later he felt compelled to warn her. "Sandy, I'm about to cum. Do you understand what that means?"

She took her mouth from him and her hands stopped moving. "It means you'll squirt, right? Your sperm?"

"That's right," he said. "I have to know...what do you want to do when I cum?"

She looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"When I orgasm, I spurt, and that sperm has to go somewhere," he said. Realization dawned on her face and it twisted into disgust. He was afraid of that.

"What...what do your girlfriends usually do?" she asked.

That was cute. She thought he had a girlfriend. No, she thought he was such a stud that he had multiple girlfriends. The evil in him took over. "They usually let me cum in their mouths," he said. "In fact, most women who give blowjobs do that. You don't have to," he added, feeling bad about trying to trick her. "I can warn you before I spurt and you can finish me with your hand instead."

She considered this. "What does it taste like?" she asked.

That stumped him. He had never tried his own cum before. Or any cum, for that matter. He remembered what his ex-wife had told him long ago, though, so he told her that. "Salty," he said. "Sometimes sweet. The flavor changes based on what I've been eating. I've been eating alot of fruit lately, so mine might taste more sweet than anything. I don't know, really. Do...do you want to try it?"

"You said most girls do it?" she asked.

"Pretty much," he waffled.

She stared at his cock, throbbing in her hand. "Okay," she said. "I guess I'll try it. You'll tell me when you're about to do it, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay." She hesitated and then resumed sucking his cock. Kyle settled back in his chair, elated. She was either getting better by the second or his dick no longer cared about quality. Orgasm swelled within him, tightening his balls, causing him to grip the armrests again. She moved steadily up and down, making slurping sounds, her hand squelching. The world began to spin around him, and he felt his cock swelling.

"Sandy!" he grunted. "I'm gonna cum...I'm gonna...gonna...uuuuuuurrrrrr!" He came hard. He'd had more powerful orgasms before, better ones, but this was special. Sandy continued moving her head and hand as he came, wincing as she felt him spurting hotly into her mouth. Cum bubbled out of the corners of her mouth, frothing, and ran over her chin to drip into his pubes. He didn't give a fuck. He howled and shook and emptied himself into her young mouth. When he was spent, he collapsed back and she seemed to understand that he was done. She lifted away from his crotch, more of his cum spilling from her lips. She closed her mouth tightly and looked up at him quizzically. He could tell she was swirling it around in her mouth, evaluating it. And then she swallowed.

Kyle thought he might spurt again.

"How was it?" he asked.

"You were right," she said, actually grinning. "It was a little sweet. Slimy, though. Really thick. And salty, too."

He had to ask. "Did you like it?"

"Not really," was her prompt reply. "But...well, I heard that Melissa Johnson, the head cheerleader at school, she puked when Tommy Esposito spurted in her mouth. I didn't puke."

He grinned and wanted to tousle her hair like a proud parent. "No, you didn't," he said. "You were wonderful. One of the best blowjobs I've ever had." That wasn't really a lie, either. Her youth made it ten times more exciting, even if the orgasm was only average.

She smiled proudly. "Thanks," she said. She seemed to notice the cum on her hands and his crotch for the first time. "I guess we made a mess," he said.

"Yeah, we did, but it's okay," he said. "It's a fun mess." She laughed with him. Whatever tension had existed between them seemed to have vanished into the ether. She was smiling brightly at him, he was feeling a tightness in his chest that shouldn't be there, and he knew, he just knew, that they were going to have many more fun times ahead of them.

He underestimated by a factor of three.




... Continue»
Posted by Spectreofhell 9 months ago  |  Categories: First Time  |  Views: 741  |  
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