Hot Pursuit (22 page)

The record keeper leant back, his features strained in an expression of tormented delight. Lucy could see
he was on the brink of a climax and she quickly withdrew her fingers before she pushed him beyond the limits of his restraint. Common sense told her that, once she had allowed him to achieve his climax, negotiations would become almost impossible.

‘If you want me to do more than just stand on this,' she began. ‘You'd best do something for me, first.'

The good mood slipped from his face and he looked as though her words were causing him physical pain. Shaking his head, close to tears with frustration, he said, ‘I can't get your deeds for you. You can ask me to do anything else, and I will, but I can't give you your deeds of –'

She squirmed her foot hard against him, silencing the refusal before he could finish the sentence. ‘I told you before,' she said patiently. ‘Don't tell me what you're
not
going to do. It makes bargaining that much more difficult. You don't know what I want yet. But I know what you want.'

He opened his mouth and she guessed he was going to raise another argument. Not allowing him the opportunity, acting without thinking, she snatched his head and pulled it against her cleft.

He groaned, the sigh trembling against the soft flesh of her thighs and exciting her with a reflection of his obvious excitement. She tugged on the greying wisps of his hair, encouraging him to taste her, and when the first tentative lap of his tongue touched her sex her pulse began to race. She had expected to commandeer him without being caught up in the thrill of the moment but there was something so seductive about being in control that Lucy couldn't bring herself to forsake the pleasure. The record keeper wasn't gifted at using his tongue but his eager desire to be her servant more than made up for his lack of skill.

He smeared his tongue wetly over her inner and outer labia. Rather than being the inquisitive attention of a lover, Lucy thought it was more like being devoured by an animal's hungry need. The scratch of his unshaven jaw was abrasive against her thighs and his nose pressed too hard at the flesh over her pubic mound. His lips kissed against the centre of her sex and she was tugged by the familiar thrill of having her clitoral piercing moved aside. The rush of pleasure was strong and inarguable and Lucy trembled as eddies of raw arousal shook through her body.

Remembering that she was in control, not wanting to let him believe he had any sway over her responses, she tried to resist the temptation of giving in to the pleasure. Her sex was already dripping with wet excitement and she knew, if she allowed him to continue without slowing his pace, she would surrender and lose the focus on her goal.

It had been easier when she had Anne beneath her. The norm had proved surprisingly pliant and eager to learn and Lucy felt a pang of regret when she realised she was unlikely to see the woman again. Not letting herself dwell on that, telling herself that they had parted at the right time, and Anne could now go back to the safe security of her suburban normality, Lucy gripped more tightly on the record keeper's head and encouraged him to slip his tongue between her pussy lips.

The sly intrusion was wickedly exciting, thrilling her with ripples of arousal and inciting fresh wetness to spill from her hole. She heard him swallow repeatedly and was elated to think he was greedily drinking her juice.

Waiting until she felt his shaft twitch again, she kept her foot pressed firmly against his length as he continued to lap at her hole. As soon as the thin
muscle throbbed, a pulse that was almost climactic and told her he was close to orgasm, she pushed his face away. Ignoring the hurt in his expression, shaking her head and telling him he could go back to licking her as soon as she decided it was time, Lucy said, ‘I'm only going to ask you for one thing and, if you want us to continue with this little game, you're going to do it for me.'

He looked as though he was going to protest but Lucy didn't allow him to speak. She squashed her foot down, pressing him harder against the wooden floor and said, ‘I need a set of deeds and you're going to give them to me.' Rushing on, explaining her requirements before he could interrupt, she said, ‘Do that for me, and I'll show you how grateful a dominant woman can be.' In a provocative whisper, she added, ‘Haven't you always wanted to experience the gratitude of a dominant woman?'

His hesitation was fleeting.

She could see the indecision struggling on his features and knew he was fighting a desire to experience her dominance and his will to remain faithful to his employer. Lucy judged it to be a well-fought battle but, because the record keeper was only a member of staff, and not trained with the discipline of a pet or a favourite, she figured the result was a foregone conclusion before he had begun. The record keeper confirmed her opinion when he pulled himself from the floor and asked her which deeds she wanted.

Patiently, Lucy told him what she wanted and then climbed onto his desk. The view remained as bleak as she had thought when she first entered the library and she wondered why there was no euphoric rush of accomplishment. Escaping from Donald's hall, finding the library and acquiring the deeds had been a bold plan but she had achieved almost everything she
had intended and the remainder looked set to fall easily into place. She expected herself to be jubilant with the rush of her own success but, instead, she found her thoughts returning to Anne. The idea that she would never again see her new friend cast a dark shadow over the moment of triumph.

‘Is this what you wanted?' the record keeper asked, handing her a ribbon-tied scroll.

Lucy paused before accepting the deeds, wondering if she should tell him it had been what she once wanted, but now she was no longer so sure. Deciding he probably wouldn't understand her melancholy, and that there was no advantage in sharing her despondent thoughts with him, she muttered cursory thanks and tucked the scroll into the pocket of her coat.

He continued to study her with eager expectation and, knowing they had an arrangement to conclude, Lucy told him to lie across his desk. She pulled the coat back over her shoulders and squatted over his face until her sex was brushing against his nose.

A flicker of her former arousal returned but, now that her success was no longer in doubt, she found the thrill lacking the edge of excitement she had enjoyed before.

‘Lick me,' she demanded. ‘Bring me off.'

He strained his neck to reach her and, without enthusiasm, she watched his erection twitch. His tongue was an inept sponge against her cleft, wetting her without inspiring arousal and it was only when she had wrapped her fist around his shaft that Lucy felt a sparkle of excitement touch her body.

The record keeper moaned.

Lucy tightened her grip until the purple flesh of his glans began to darken. Easing her hips back and forth, gently gliding the pulse of her clitoris against
his nose, she asked, ‘Was that so difficult? Did my request really compromise your position here?'

‘No,' he muttered.

The word was spluttered wetly against the dripping folds of her sex.

Lucy leant forward, struggling to keep her sex over his face while she lowered her mouth to his swollen end. A pearl of pre-come nestled in the eye of his erection and she lapped it away with the tip of her tongue.

The record keeper trembled hard enough to rock the desk.

‘Are you ready for me to show you my gratitude now?' she asked.

He stiffened and she knew he was on the verge of a climactic explosion. Her hand was still tight around his length, preventing him from ejaculating, and she chased her tongue against him in slowly dwindling circles. His tremors had been severe before, shivering through the desk so that its feet rattled against the floor. But now she could feel their precarious pedestal shaking as though they were caught in an earthquake.

She lowered her sex over his face and her pussy lips engulfed his mouth and nose.

It briefly crossed her mind that he might be struggling for air, and that there was a small danger of suffocating him with the deep kiss she was demanding, but she guessed that the record keeper was of a mood where oxygen wasn't a major concern. His elation was apparent in the greedy way he slurped at her sex and the urgency of his erection's pulse. Repeatedly he slammed his hands against the desk and Lucy knew he was beyond the verge of containing his climax.

‘You want me to show my gratitude?' she asked again.

He gasped against her and pulled his head from beneath her thighs. ‘Yes,' he groaned. ‘Please. Yes.'

She nodded and released her hold on him. Jumping from the desk, leaving the record keeper confused and frustrated, she began to fasten the belt of her coat.

He regarded her with baffled dismay. ‘Where do you think you're going?' he exclaimed. ‘You were going to show me your gratitude.'

She retrieved her shoe from the floor, slipped it over her toes and worked the heel into place before fixing him with a solemn frown. ‘I am going to show you my gratitude,' she agreed. ‘But I need to do it when I'm ready to escape here as quickly as possible.'

He started to protest but, before he could begin, she had pointed at the sign above the library door. ‘You told me yourself that you could have a contingent of guards here within two minutes. Do you really think I'm going to let you have your fun beneath me, then hand me over to the hall's security?'

He started to pull himself up from the desk but Lucy stopped him, placing a hand on his chest. His erection looked so hard she felt sure it was ready to burst and, when she wrapped her fist around him again, she knew the record keeper was struggling to resist his climax. She stared down at him, noticing the smear of her own slick wetness that daubed his lips and jaw. It was easy to recall the perverse excitement she had enjoyed while licking similar lubrication from Anne's mouth but she didn't want her mood to be dragged down by that memory. Not allowing herself to brood, Lucy lowered her face and kissed the record keeper. When she loosened her grip on his length, the shaft trembled as the climax shivered through him.

A sound at the doorway made Lucy raise her head and she found herself staring at a fresh-faced young
woman dressed in the harness of a pony-girl. Her panic at being disturbed was only fleeting, and her worries were assuaged when she saw the apologetic expression on the pony-girl's face. Maintaining her air of authority, deciding it was safer to pretend to be in control, Lucy asked, ‘Did you want something?'

The pony-girl stepped warily into the room. ‘Are you with the visiting master? Are you one of Donald's charges?'

‘I'm one of his entourage,' Lucy allowed guardedly. ‘Why?'

The pony-girl seemed to sag with relief. ‘My master's concerned for him. He came here pursuing one runaway favourite, and now his other has fled. My master wanted me to rally the rest of his party so they could console him or offer support.'

‘Ginger's run away?' Lucy gasped. ‘You're kidding.'

The pony-girl shook her head. ‘She fled from the estate while we were chasing after the first runaway's buggy.'

Lucy placed a hand over her mouth to conceal a smile. It was sticky with the remnants of the record keeper's ejaculation and she absently licked the rivulets of semen from her fingertips. She was delighted that her ruse to let Anne lead an empty buggy had worked so successfully but she couldn't believe that the devoted redhead had really taken flight. ‘Ginger might just be running after the buggy,' Lucy suggested. ‘Isn't that a possibility?'

The pony-girl shook her head. ‘We found the buggy just outside the gates. Your master believes Ginger caught up with the runaway. But he doesn't know if she's fled with the first runaway, or taken her somewhere so she can exact retribution. He's quite upset by the disobedience.'

Lucy frowned, only partly concerned by the thought of Donald's upset. She understood that Ginger had caught Anne and felt queasy with dread when she considered the situation. She hadn't expected to let Anne fall into the hands of the sadistic redhead and the idea that Ginger might be plying her new friend for information made Lucy ill with worry. Trying not to show her nervousness, she began to wonder if she had made an error of judgement. If she had made a mistake, Lucy knew that Anne would now be paying for it.

‘Where is she?' Ginger demanded. ‘Where's the little bitch hiding?'

Anne glared at the woman in mute horror. She hadn't been able to answer any of Ginger's questions since the redhead had caught her outside the estate's gates. The bit remained between her teeth, effectively stopping every word she attempted, and there had been no opportunity to remove the makeshift gag. They had returned to the baronial hall, the redhead stealing them through ornate doorways and along discreet corridors, while she promised all manner of sadistic retribution for the deception of the empty buggy.

Her outrage was so apparent that, when they finally reached their destination, Ginger had simply thrown Anne onto a discarded wooden chair. There had been no need to tie her, or make innovative use of her bridle and harness, because a fear of the consequences prevented Anne from attempting to flee. She realised they were alone, somewhere in the cellars of the hall, and Anne now believed Ginger was ready to make good on all of those threats she had made. Frightened, she squirmed against her seat. Her heartbeat hammered incessantly and she didn't dare dwell on the prospect of what might happen next. An
uneasy feeling in the centre of her bowel told her she would have the answer to that question a lot sooner than she wanted.

‘My fuse is this short,' Ginger hissed.

She pushed her finger and thumb in front of Anne's eyes, holding them millimetres apart. Her otherwise pretty features, her sparkling green eyes and perfectly sculpted cheekbones, were contorted by a mask of rage and fury.

Like Anne, she wore the bridle and harness that suggested she had been pony-carting but her straps were being worn to show off the intimate genital piercings through her nipples and sex lips. The sight of leather, steel and bare flesh made her appear exciting as well as intimidating and, each time Anne raised her gaze to meet the woman's, she quickly lowered her head in a confusion of embarrassment.