Hot Pursuit (16 page)

Tugging on her outer labia, lowering himself slowly to his knees, the record keeper maintained his vicelike grip as he pushed his face closer. The torment against her sex was infuriating but nowhere near as upsetting as the knowledge that she was being intimately touched by an inferior. Her heart raced at a furious tempo and she repeatedly told herself that she was in the throes of outrage and no other emotion.

‘Lovelier than ever,' he mumbled.

His every breath plumed like a balm against the heat of her sex and Ginger's pet blonde was dismayed by her body's responses. His touch was no less despicable than it had been before, chilling her with chagrin and distaste, but she couldn't deny that it was exciting.

He continued to hold her labia with one hand, pulling guilelessly on the lips and shocking her with tremors of dark arousal. His other hand clutched her thigh and she frantically told herself he was only trying to maintain his balance. The lie might have seemed more convincing if his fingertips hadn't started stroking up and down her leg, or if the record keeper had not begun to murmur guttural words of adoring approval, but Ginger's pet blonde tried to remain ignorant to those signs.

‘Lovelier than ever,' he repeated, rubbing his fingers back and forth along the split of her sex.

As soon as his fingers reached the nub of her clitoris she felt the first pang of proper arousal scorch
from her sex. She shook her head, not wanting to acknowledge her own responses, but it was impossible to deny the wetness that magically lubricated his fingers. Tiny tremors began to quiver through her thighs and she tensed her buttock muscles in an attempt to disguise her reaction. His fingers continued to glide against her pussy lips, occasionally darting inside the sodden velvet folds, and she gritted her teeth as she tried to distance herself from the hateful flood of excitement.

The idea of running from the library had never been stronger but she knew she couldn't leave without fulfilling Ginger's instructions. Her mistress had been infuriated by the deception of the previous night's text message and she had made it clear that she had to reach Lucy before Donald caught her. In a restless night of planned retribution she had embellished her sadistic plans for revenge in wickedly exciting detail. Aware of the severity of Ginger's wrath, her pet blonde was determined not to fail the simple order to locate the deeds of indenture and guard them. If it meant she had to suffer the nuisance of the record keeper's mauling hands at her pussy lips, she supposed it was a small price to pay to secure her mistress's happiness.

‘Turn around,' the record keeper said quietly.

Ginger's pet blonde obeyed without thinking.

It was only when his bony hands separated her buttock cheeks, and she felt a finger probe the puckered ring of her anus, that she finally rebelled. The teasing against her nipples and labia had been intolerable but the idea of letting the record keeper penetrate her anus was unthinkable. Glaring back at him from over her shoulder she asked, ‘What do you think you're doing?'

He made no attempt to stop. After chasing his tongue against the tip of his index finger he pushed it
back between her buttocks and pressed the centre of her forbidden hole. ‘My examinations are always thorough,' he replied. ‘And you're under instruction to remain still and silent while I do this. Don't make me punish you for disobedience. You wouldn't want to lower yourself to being disciplined by a mere member of staff, would you?'

The threat was enough to make her stop glowering at him and she reluctantly allowed him to carry on. The indignity was galling as he forced the finger hard against her anus and she thought it was equally dispiriting to note that it slid easily inside. She was still trying to tell herself that he was only examining her but, as he rubbed back and forth, stretching the muscle of her rectum then allowing it to close before pushing back inside, the reality became harder to ignore.

His gentle frigging became more urgent and, as his pace quickened, Ginger's pet blonde could feel him wringing an unwanted climax from her hole. The muscle of her anus had always been peculiarly sensitive and, on those occasions when her mistress had touched her there, the orgasms had been brisk, memorable and unrelenting. She steeled herself against those responses now, adamant that she wouldn't let herself be brought to climax by the record keeper.

Yet, despite her determination, her body basked in the vile attention. Her nipples remained taut and excited, her pussy lips quivered with growing eddies of pleasure and the tight ring of her anus pulsed shrilly with mounting joy. She didn't want the record keeper to excite her, and abhorred the idea that he might push her past the brink of climax, yet she knew the glorious release was almost upon her.

Unexpectedly, he snatched his finger from her backside. He slapped his hand against her rear, a light
dismissal that said he had fmished, and eased himself from his knees.

Incredulous, Ginger's pet blonde glared at him.

‘I believe you're telling the truth,' he announced. ‘You're not the runaway, so I'll take you at your word and believe that you're really here to safeguard the relevant deeds.'

Her thoughts were still a flurry of excitement and arousal, coloured by shades of longing and denial. Concentrating on his words was a chore that was almost beyond her capabilities and she had to force herself to understand what he was saying. Before she had the chance to ask him to repeat what he had said, the record keeper was walking to one of the filing cabinets and retrieving an elegant parchment folder.

‘There you go,' he said, handing the document to her. His devilish smile continued to sparkle behind his spectacles and she could see he knew that she was in a state of tormented frustration. ‘These are the deeds you were instructed to retrieve. You can take them back to your mistress and leave now. I'm sure you'll be anxious to be on your way.'

The blonde shook her head.

A few moments earlier she had wanted nothing more than to escape from the library and get away from the horrible record keeper but now that desire had taken second place to her need for satisfaction. Appalled by the idea of begging the record keeper to finish what he had begun, she pushed that image from her mind and tried to compose her thoughts.

‘Go on,' he said, urging the folder into her hands.

She remained naked in front of him and one corner of the parchment brushed her stiff nipple. The cruel contact excited a shiver and she willed herself not to be won over by the hateful swell of arousal.

‘Go on and take this back to your mistress.'

Ginger's pet blonde shook her head. She drew a deep breath, forced the last thoughts of sexual excitement from her mind, and said, ‘That isn't what my mistress wants.'

The record keeper raised an eyebrow. His pursed lips silently encouraged her to continue.

‘My mistress doesn't want me to retrieve the deeds,' the pet explained. Ginger's instructions had been hurried but explicit:
‘Find Lucy's deeds. Stay close to them. And let me know if the bitch turns up to retrieve them.'
She had made no mention about taking them from the library and, although her pet yearned to snatch the initiative that would free her from the blackly exciting company of the record keeper, she couldn't bring herself to disobey her mistress. T was only told to stay here and guard them.'

His leering grin widened. ‘You're meant to remain here?' Unsolicited, his hand went to her breast. The nipple had remained hard and the unlubricated caress of his fingertips sparked fresh waves of joy. ‘You're meant to remain here and guard the deeds?'

She kept her face rigid so that her lips didn't curl with disgust. He was no longer touching her under the pretence of an examination but she couldn't find the will to tell him to take his hand away. The idea that he might excite her again, and this time satisfy the unsated need that he had previously awoken, offered enough hope to keep her motionless. ‘Those are my instructions,' she replied. ‘I'm meant to find where the deeds are located, then I'm meant to wait here and report to my mistress if the runaway arrives.'

His despicable smile had returned and she saw a flicker of determination sparkle in his hatefully expressive eyes. The fingers at her breast squeezed
cruelly tight and she held her breath rather than sighing with a gratified protest.

‘Perhaps you should be hiding?'

She considered the idea warily, knowing it sounded like a sensible suggestion but not trusting something in his tone. His smile had turned sly and, noticing the prominent bulge at the front of his trousers, she guessed he was trying to work the situation to his own perverse advantage.

‘Where would be a good place for you to hide around here?'

He asked the question in a way that suggested he already knew the answer and Ginger's pet blonde wasn't surprised to see him glance at his desk then smile as though an idea had just occurred to him. ‘Of course,' he said with sudden enthusiasm. ‘The knee-hole. You can hide in there. Go along, girl. Get down on your knees and get under there. That will be the perfect hiding place.'

‘Isn't there anywhere else I could hide?'

He shrugged as though the matter was unimportant. ‘Yes. You can go back to your quarters and tell your mistress that I threw you out of the library. The choice is yours, girl. Hide under my desk or get out of my library.'

Ginger's pet blonde curbed her resentment and struggled to make a decision. She had already suffered his unwarranted examination and the prospect of returning to Ginger and saying that the record keeper hadn't allowed her to remain in the library, made her cringe with dread. Watching him return Lucy's deeds to their filing cabinet, and knowing she had to obey, she reluctantly fell to her knees and crawled under the desk's kneehole.

In the silence of the library, she heard the record keeper chuckle with gratuitous satisfaction.
His apparent triumph meant nothing to her until he settled himself in the seat at his desk and she saw his erection now poked through the open zipper of his trousers. His expectations were disgustingly obvious and she knew she had no recourse but to do as he demanded.

‘Whilst you're down there,' he began idly, ‘You might care to fellate me.'

The erection hovered in front of her eyes, the scent of its masculine excitement filling her nostrils and engendering a noxious rush of greedy need. The shaft was hard, pulsing with its own arousal and the swollen purple head glistened at the tip with a smattering of slick clear fluid. The temptation to obey him was almost irresistible but she knew she had to make some token show of defiance. ‘I'm not meant to do that for staff,' she said stiffly. ‘My mistress says I only need to fellate her master.'

The record keeper laughed as though the matter was of no consequence. ‘If you're planning to stay beneath there until this runaway arrives, then you'd better suck me. If you don't do it, and do it well, I'll throw you out of here and forbid you from coming here ever again.'

It was all the incentive Ginger's pet blonde needed.

She curled her fingers around the base of his thickness, trying not to be touched by arousal as she felt the strong pulse beating between his legs, and guided the head toward her mouth. Tentatively, she tested her tongue against the head and darted the tip along the sensitive flesh of his fraenum. Slowly, not wanting to rush the experience for either of them, she moved her lips to encircle the swollen end.

The record keeper sighed with obvious approval, his breath coming faster when she took his entire length into her mouth. The salty taste of his sweat,
and the viscous sensation of his pre-come glistening at the back of her throat, quickly took Ginger's pet blonde back to the precipice of orgasm. Amazed by the intensity of her arousal she gasped and pulled her lips away from his shaft.

He grunted and glared querulously beneath the desk. ‘You've stopped,' he observed.

She continued to hold his shaft between her finger and thumb, guiding it close to her lips as she spoke. ‘I have to ask a question. There's something I need to know before I carry on.'

His eyebrows knitted together as he regarded her with obvious distrust but she understood that he was giving her permission to speak. Flicking the tip of her tongue against the head of his glans, she grinned and asked, ‘Will you really tell me if Lucy shows up?'

The record keeper encouraged her to take his length back into her open mouth, then sat back in his chair. She could no longer see his face but imagined he would have his eyes closed and an expression of obvious bliss twisting his smile.

I suppose that's a valid question,' he mumbled. ‘But the answer really depends on you.'

Wrapping her mouth around his stiff length, Ginger's pet blonde waited.

‘Keep me satisfied until the runaway arrives, and chivalry will force me to repay your kindness. But, if you allow me to grow bored, then I might just let her stroll in here and take whatever it is she's looking for.'

Fearful that he might be telling the truth, Ginger's pet blonde sucked harder.

Anne was amazed to feel the familiar thrill of arousal creep over her and she regarded Lucy with genuine amazement. Already the woman had shown her realms of pleasure she hadn't imagined and taught her to enjoy indiscretions she would never have considered erotic. Yet even now, in the deserted stables behind the Welsh baronial hall, Lucy was still making it clear that they hadn't reached Anne's boundaries. The air between them throbbed with potential and Anne felt giddy as she tried to imagine what could possibly come next in this unexpected education.

‘We need to do this quickly,' Lucy gasped.

As she had on the day they first met, Lucy only wore her long leather coat. The buttons were unfastened to reveal tantalising glimpses of her naked figure a luxuriant snatch of thigh here and a glimpse of bare breast there and Anne thought the woman looked wickedly irresistible. That morning she had politely offered her new friend a selection of clothes from her suitcase but Lucy had declined. Cryptically, she announced that she would be better received at the hall if she wore the traditional uniform of a favourite.