Deceived and Enslaved (29 page)

Lillian did not look to see whose hands were stroking her body, massaging her voluptuous breasts, or pressing down on her stomach. She could feel a woman's delicate hand rubbing between her thighs.

She had never experienced anything like this before, nothing quite as pleasurable. It was beautiful to feel Rodolfo's engorged tool twitch in her mouth. She knew he was coming. His body suddenly bucked backward, his hips locking in the orgasmic tension which preceded the jet of sperm which washed the back of her throat. She lolled her head back to drink every drop of his thick sperm.

No sooner had he withdrawn from her than Guiseppe fed his thicker stubbier cock inside her, his juice mingling with Rodolfo's. Guiseppe was much rougher. He was not prepared to wait upon Lillian's rhythmic bobbing. He held her head in a hard grip and propelled his cock in and out of her mouth. He was more violent and passionate, a beautiful distraction from the intense pleasure building up inside her, bubbling in her heaving chest. She swallowed Guiseppe's cock in her mouth, her lips sucking to the base of his shaft. It was amazing how she could fit him all in.

The blonde lifted her head from between Lillian's thighs.

'Oh, my dear, what an expert you are!' she exclaimed, complimenting Lillian on her skill at fellatio. Fortunately the blonde had left her gloved hand between Lillian's thighs, and her fingers grazed the tip of her unsheathed clitoris, continuing to stimulate the English girl.

'We have a little surprise for you, Lillian,' Lord Willingham spoke again. 'You are going to be serviced by none less than this year's president.'

Lillian didn't quite understand what was going on. She had assumed that this was some kind of Janusian gathering, but little did she know that they had a president.

She could only see the first row of people beside her; the rest were lost in the darkness beyond the fringe of intense light.

The people standing immediately behind the blonde stepped aside. It wasn't Willingham at all. It was
him
. She remembered him from countless pictures from that other life she'd once had. She'd even spoken to him, stayed at his house for a week. He'd been charming, mildly flirtatious, but generally an absolutely delightful old man. Yes, it was him: William Julian Symonds.

'Isn't she beautiful, Julian?' It was Willingham speaking.

Symonds took his cock from his trousers and held it in his hand. His ancient body touched Lillian and made her shudder.

There were three men standing forward now, all haloed in the bright light. Symonds stood in the middle, Lance Willingham at his left side and James Hyde-Lee at the right. The word triptych came into her mind but she was not sure why.

'Yes, she is.' He stood beside her and sank his firm penis into her mouth. She had no option but to suck him, as she was frightened of Willingham's disapproval. 'You know that once I met her. She came to interview me as she did you, James. I never thought of doing anything like you have done...' All the time Lillian kept on sucking his old penis. '...But I rather wish I had. It was a worrying time for me, dear, you know that. You could have gotten me into a lot of problems. We were having a party downstairs. She was sleeping in an upstairs room. She only started sleepwalking, didn't she. Frightened the life out of all of us when she burst in on our little fun. You know Emily here, and some of the boy slaves she has, were having a grand bit of fun down there... no don't stop dear, please...' He pulled her head further onto him.

Suddenly the aged Symonds pulled out of her, then climbed onto the bed with the aid of Guiseppe and Rodolfo, and positioned himself between Lillian's legs.

'Welcome to the Order of Janus, Lillian,' he said, before thrusting hard into her, reaching his wrinkled hands over her breasts and tugging her nipples until it pained her.

There was a terrible sense of ambivalence inside her, for she did desperately want to have sex, but the idea of having sex with elderly Symonds repulsed her. He breathed heavily on her throat as he thrust into her. He was still surprisingly strong for his age. He spread her legs wider and wider until it made her ache, sinking his pole harder into her.

Lillian looked around her. There were so many eyes looking at her. Willingham was smiling almost benignly at her. Hyde-Lee too. And this old man was fucking her hard. Hard enough for her at last to feel herself coming. She was coming. She couldn't help it. As Symonds gushed into her she exploded into an incredibly violent orgasm.

The book was generally well received, even if it was published six months after its original deadline and by a different publisher - an old friend of Willingham and a member of the Order of Janus - which meant that Willingham had to pay out a considerable amount of money to reimburse the first. There were critics, however, who said that the biography lacked a greater sense of critical thinking, and one who called it hagiographic.

Lillian gave a number of interviews, many conducted in the Roman apartment of a friend of Lord Willingham. Here she got to meet a beautiful Italian woman called Isabella. When Willingham took them both there he spent a very pleasant afternoon tying them to a chandelier and whipping them with a riding crop. When various literary journals came to see her, Hyde-Lee had primed her well enough so that she knew what she had to say. This was especially true if she knew that Willingham was in the room next door.

Willingham also allowed her a trip to London, where she was invited to stay in the house of Julian Symonds. She even saw some of her old friends but they all found her very strange, very aloof and distant and really quite vague, especially when it came to talking about boyfriends and the like. Lillian had always been quite reserved about such matters, but now she seemed positively antagonistic. Slowly her friends began to lose interest in her, some wondering whether her success had changed her, others thinking that maybe she had just altered with the years.

Willingham made it clear that there were to be no more books after this. For one, he could do without the publicity, and two, it would distract her from her duties looking after him. These had of course been extended to shopping for him and also doing some cooking. She was allowed to go out now as Willingham no longer feared that she would try to escape from him, knowing full well that in reality she had neither another place to go to, nor the desire. He also arranged the sale of her London flat for her, making sure that the contents were destroyed to break any more traces with the past.

While she was in London, giving an interview in a bookshop, she came across a picture of herself taken when she had first been published. She wondered who that woman from a lifetime ago was, what it must have been like to be her, but Lillian could barely imagine what life would be like without the order that was imposed on it by Willingham.

Occasionally she remembered a man who had been very important in her life. He had brought her up and taken care of her, and she had some distant recollection of having loved him, but she knew that this man had mistreated her in some ways and that it was a waste of time to think of him any longer. The curious girl who had investigated so many lives, never thought back to the secret diaries she had read of Hyde-Lee's, nor had she worked out of course that the JS referred to was not her father, but was indeed William Julian Symonds, nor that her father had nothing to do with the weird and purely invented cult that had blossomed into an international-wide organisation of slave owners and traders. But Lillian no longer had any curiosity about anything.

Lord Willingham was extremely happy with the way things had progressed with Lillian, her servitude, her extreme submissiveness. He could do, and he did, anything he wanted to do with her. He hardly ever had to punish her at all these days. If he did it was usually for his own pleasure rather than any wrongdoing. There had been that period shortly after the Janus convention when the girl had first been freed, when every single moment she was alone she seemed to want to masturbate. Willingham disapproved of his women engaging in such activities. But Lillian was very keen. Three nights in the hood had not stopped her, so he'd had to use Grimaldi again, but issuing strict instructions that whatever debasements the girl went through she was not allowed to have any sexual release. He never asked Grimaldi exactly what had gone on there but Lillian hadn't been caught masturbating again.

Lillian was also extremely useful at helping out when a new girl would come along to be trained and he was beginning to have another plan following his success with Lillian. He'd found it ever so challenging. And as he got older he needed to think of new pastimes, particularly as his brother had decided to return to England. He wouldn't have him worrying or complaining about his activities, and he certainly had the space and the money to fund more exciting activities. He also had Inspector Grimaldi in his pocket.

He would use Lillian to attract others to his mansion, backpackers, travellers, locals; anybody he desired. She would be the perfect bait, for now there was something extremely trusting about her face. Nobody would ever suspect her of luring innocents into his house. There first woman had been called... But that is another story.

We will leave Lillian where she usually was on a Thursday morning when Inspector Grimaldi came to pay a visit, spread across his lap, her beaten bottom writhing under each firm stroke of his shoe, Willingham looking on, delighting in the spectacle, imagining how much fun he was going to have once she was properly trained for her next task.

-oOo-

Enjoy more of Leo Barton's erotic fiction, also available as eBooks from as at Avid, including The Maestro, Latin Submission, and:

Everything was blanked but ecstasy: there was no consciousness, no Gregory, no London, no Freddie, no Helena, just this sweet heat searing my skin, my flesh, my consciousness
.

From her strict religious upbringing as a clergyman's daughter and then wife, Helena is liberated by an enigmatic Italian who teaches her to explore the needs and desires of her own body. He leads her to the brink of both pain and pleasure, transforming the timid girl into a most voluptuous woman.

-oOo-

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