Destroying Angel (6 page)

‘Patience, my sweet,’ Annabella said, looking full into Paulette’s eyes. ‘All in good time.’

She smiled coolly and tilted Paulette’s chin up a little more before continuing. ‘I just wanted you to know, slut, that never, no matter how excited I was, would I ever do what you have just done. How does that make you feel?’

‘Dirty, mistress,’ Paulette answered softly, drawing another silky laugh from Annabella.

‘Good,’ Annabella said as she rose, ‘but we mustn’t leave Susan out, must we, Susan?’

Susan shook her head meekly from her kneeling position. Paulette watched in fascinating as Annabella went through the same ritual with her friend, presenting her bottom, opening her cheeks and pushing them out. Susan kissed with a willingness that surprised Paulette. Susan’s eyes were open as she nuzzled her face between Annabella’s buttocks. Annabella, too, clearly took more than just a mental pleasure in the act, closing her eyes and sighing as Susan’s tongue found her anus.

There was an expression of utter bliss on Susan’s face as she drew away, acting to remove the slight trace of guilt that Paulette had felt at obeying Annabella’s command so readily.

‘Fetch a whip, Susan,’ Annabella commanded, once more moving out of Paulette’s range of vision. ‘As she was beaten only recently, I shall be merciful. Pass me the cat with the suede thongs.’

Paulette felt her breathing quicken once more as Susan rose quickly and disappeared. There was a faint click and a swish, as if of the chosen implement being tested through the air. Paulette found the cheeks of her bottom clenching in anticipation, a feeling made stronger by her inability to see what the others were doing.

‘Kneel by her head.’ Annabella’s voice came from behind her and, a moment later, Susan appeared, sinking to her knees and cradling Paulette’s head in her arms.

An instant later, the whip landed on Paulette’s bottom with a heavy smack, as much a push as a blow. Paulette jerked and gasped, surprised by the force of the whip. It came again before she was really ready, smacking down hard against her bottom and pushing her into Susan’s arms. The feeling was very different from the sharp bite of the cane Susan had used; more erotic than painful.

Despite that, the whipping produced all the exquisite thrill of chastisement, accentuated by her helpless position and the act of abasement she had performed before the whipping had started. She began to pant and then groan as Annabella continued, using the heavy whip with unerring accuracy. Each stroke fell plum across the crest of Paulette’s bottom, the spread of the thongs catching the full area of her cheeks. Susan’s breasts were cradled against her face, adding to a level of pleasure that was becoming truly ecstatic as the whipping continued.

‘I think I’m going to come,’ Paulette gasped, amazed at her own reaction. All it needed was a touch to her clit, the lightest caress, and she would be there.

‘Touch me…’ she begged, immediately feeling Susan’s hand slide under the pillory-board, brush against one of her dangling boobs, touch her belly, and finally settle in among the nest of curls covering her sex.

‘Yes, that’s it,’ she managed as Susan found her clit. ‘Whip me hard mistress, please… harder!’

Annabella brought the whip down with all her force, Paulette coming to orgasm as it struck and Susan’s finger flicked at her clitoris. Another blow caught her at the peak of her orgasm and she screamed out, calling Susan’s name, and then Annabella’s as her climax exploded in her head, turning the world black for an instant and leaving her sobbing her passion into Susan’s chest…

Paulette waited as they released her from the pillory, then sank to the floor, her muscles shaking in reaction to her orgasm. Susan stood to one side, flushed and smiling, clearly excited.

‘Susan’s turn!’ Paulette enthused, hugging her friend and giving her bottom a smack in anticipation of what was to come.

‘In a moment.’ Annabella spoke firmly, asserting her position but rubbing her arm to clear the ache induced by using the heavy whip on Paulette. ‘Susan, run downstairs and fetch another bottle from the fridge, and the glasses.’

Susan obeyed, scampering down the staircase and finding another bottle of the Alsace in the fridge. Kneeling naked on the kitchen floor, it was more than she could resist to slide the cold bottle between her thighs and rub her wet pussy against it. The glass felt hard and cold, making Susan close her eyes and purr with pleasure, only with an effort resisting the temptation of masturbating then and there on the floor.

Returning to the play-room, she served Annabella, then Paulette, and lastly herself, once more kneeling at de Vergy’s feet to drink her wine.

‘Very obedient,’ Annabella remarked. ‘Better than you, Paulette; you still have a lesson or two to learn before you make a good maid.’

‘Yes, please,’ Paulette giggled, looking over the top of her glass, her huge brown eyes wide and bright.

‘The first of which might be to appear a little less eager,’ Annabella continued. ‘Now what shall we do with Susan?’

‘Take her into the garden and spank her in front of the neighbours,’ Paulette suggested.

‘Tempting, amusing, but hardly practical,’ Annabella replied. ‘Unfortunately, I am a respectable businesswoman and could hardly afford the scandal. A pity, though; I’m sure old Mr Pettigrew from next door would love to see that fat white behind bouncing and wriggling through a spanking.’

Paulette giggled again. Susan looked up, her lower lip starting to quiver. Annabella had just hit upon both her deepest fantasies: threatening to exhibit her to a dirty old man, and then humiliating her by remarking on the plumpness of her bottom. She knew it wasn’t really true, her bottom being pretty well solid muscle and a good deal less fleshy than Paulette’s, but that just made the remark sting all the more.

‘Over your knee would be nicest,’ Susan suggested hopefully, looking up with what she hoped was an imploring expression.

‘It would, would it?’ Annabella said imperiously.

‘And with you fully dressed,’ Susan continued boldly. ‘Not that you haven’t got a lovely body, or anything—’ She stopped talking, effectively silenced by the look of astonishment on Annabella’s face. ‘It’s just my fantasy,’ she started to explain, ‘to be bare when I’m spanked, and for—’

‘I think I understand,’ Annabella cut in. ‘Nonetheless, your impertinence is quite extraordinary.’

‘Yes, mistress,’ Susan said quietly.

‘And for impertinence there is only one cure,’ Annabella continued, placing her wine glass carefully on the cupboards between a leather strap and a thick paddle of polished wood. Susan barely had time to react as Annabella sat down on the leather seat of one of the bondage devices and took her by the hair. Just managing to set her glass on the floor, she found herself pulled brusquely across Annabella’s knee, a smack landing on her bum an instant later.

Annabella spanked hard and fast. Susan kicked and squealed, feeling her bouncing bottom warm quickly and knowing that her cheeks would be reddening fast. Her head was down by Annabella’s shoes, a hand twisted into her hair to make it impossible to get up. She heard Paulette’s delighted laughter above her, the black girl clearly enjoying the spectacle of her spanking. Suddenly it stopped, leaving Susan panting across her mistress’ knee.

‘Pass me a paddle,’ she heard Annabella order Paulette.

‘No…’ Susan pleaded, remembering the broad wooden implement she’d seen on the top.

‘Oh yes, Susan.’ Annabella’s voice was gleefully sadistic.

Susan squealed loudly as the paddle smacked hard against her bottom. It hurt far more than Annabella’s hand, but she was unable to do anything about it. She started to beat her fists on the floor, sobbing in her shame and frustration, kicking, wriggling frantically, but unable to get away.

‘No, stop, please!’ she begged. ‘Annabella, mistress! Please!’

The spanking stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Susan rolled off Annabella’s lap and crumpled to the floor, sobbing and rubbing her bottom. She was vaguely aware that Paulette was looking concerned, but that Annabella was sitting still, looking cool and amused as she reached for her glass.

Utterly humiliated, her bottom a hot throbbing ball, Susan pulled herself into a sitting position and spread her legs slowly apart. With her vagina open to the woman who had just beaten her, she began to masturbate, looking into de Vergy’s eyes as her fingers found her clit. Annabella returned her stare, mouth slightly open but otherwise as composed as Susan was abandoned.

Already breathing fast, Susan curled her other hand under her thighs, lifting her bottom and stroking the smarting skin. She felt utterly wanton, intent on making a truly dirty show of herself as she came. Her legs inched further apart as she settled her bottom back on the floor, the boards hard against the sore flesh, her fingers burrowing down into the cleft of her bum.

As she felt the first flush of approaching orgasm, her middle finger found her anus, popping into the tight hole in full view of both Annabella and Paulette. The ring contracted, firm and damp around her intruding digit, and she was coming, screaming, squirming on the floor, rubbing frantically at herself as her back arched and her muscles spasmed.

Then it was over and she was trembling on the floor, her body damp with sweat, legs still wide apart, not caring in the least what she was showing.

‘Lick me, Paulette,’ she heard Annabella say. The beautiful, haughty voice was still cool and very much in charge, despite the obvious flush of pleasure on her face and the moist state of her vulva.

Susan sat back as Paulette got to her knees and sank her face between Annabella’s open thighs. Exhaling slowly, she closed her eyes to the full moon of Paulette’s bottom and the soft moans coming from their erstwhile mistress as her pleasure rose.

‘That was something else,’ Paulette said as they walked along the canal bank away from de Vergy’s house.

Susan nodded agreement, rather too aware of her smarting bottom to give Paulette her full attention. It was true; Annabella de Vergy made an excellent mistress, even if she had taken the spanking a bit further than Susan would really have liked.

‘It’s a shame she had to go to work,’ Paulette continued blithely, ‘but, like she said, there’ll be other times. You really throw a tantrum when you’re spanked, don’t you?’

‘It was hard!’ Susan protested.

Paulette laughed and promptly changed the subject. ‘Shame about the scandal, or rather the lack of a scandal. I suppose I should have known Sowerby was on a wild goat chase; silly old fart.’

‘Are you giving up then?’

‘I suppose so,’ Paulette sighed. ‘But at least we met Annabella, so it’s not a total wash-out.’

‘So I sucked Paul Berner for nothing?’

‘It’ll teach you your place,’ Paulette joked, imitating Annabella’s accent.

‘Unless, of course, there is a scandal but Annabella simply doesn’t know anything about it,’ Susan speculated. ‘You saw how self-confident she is. Maybe she’s being cheated and doesn’t know it.’

‘Maybe,’ Paulette replied dubiously, ‘but she seemed to know her stuff…’

‘You’re probably right,’ Susan admitted. ‘In any case, it seems pretty certain that she’s not involved in any way. In all the interviews I can remember, I’ve never seen a guilty person so calm and offhand. One thing we do know; Sowerby never managed to have Annabella.’

‘How?’ Paulette queried.

‘He had no idea what her pussy looks like,’ Susan answered, drawing a laugh and a cheeky grin from Paulette.

Bob Tweed pressed a button as the sleek, black Jaguar approached the barrier. The driver, Annabella de Vergy, gave him the merest nod as she passed, a gesture of lofty condescension that made him want to spit. Stuck-up cow, he thought, acting as if she was better than anybody else, especially him. True, she ran a successful wine import business while he was a night-watchman on an industrial estate, but in his eyes she had no right to behave as if she were superior to him.

‘Bitch,’ he mumbled under his breath at the departing Jaguar. For a long moment he stood looking after the car, even when it had passed from sight, feeling resentful and self-pitying. He was still staring in the same direction when the sound of a horn drew his attention back to his job. It was a BMW, the driver hooting irritably for his attention.

‘Keep your mind on your job,’ the man snapped as he passed, once more drawing a sullen curse from the watchman. The man was Philip Ruddock, manager at de Vergy Fine Wines and, if anything, even more stuck-up than his boss. de Vergy was haughty and aloof, where Ruddock was actively rude. Despite that, Tweed found Ruddock less irritating; it was easier to be looked down upon by a man than a woman.

Being Sunday, the estate was nearly empty, only a few late workers remaining. Other than the wine warehouse, only a handful of places opened on Sunday and, of those, de Vergy, Ruddock, and their staff were invariably the last to leave. They were always the last to turn up as well. Lazy bastards, he thought, turning up for work in the middle of the afternoon. Tweed slid a magazine from under his desk, and opened it at random to admire a picture of a leggy large-breasted blonde with her legs spread in a pose of crude sexual display. He sighed, thinking how good it would feel to have the stuck-up bitch de Vergy spread open like that, begging for his cock up her posh twat. Bitch, he thought once more, realising that de Vergy saw him as no more than a shadow as she drove past each morning, a servant whose name it wasn’t even worth knowing. As for him ever having sex with her, it was more likely that the girl in the magazine would come to life. Besides, he consoled himself, the cold bitch had probably never had sex anyway – not proper sex, like he would have given her.