Hot Pursuit (26 page)

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Authors: Lisette Ashton

BOOK: Hot Pursuit
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Donald tilted the base, allowing the meniscus of molten wax to spill free.

A burning torrent fell against her breast.

Ginger's pet blonde stiffened.

The droplets of wax splashed against her orb, instantaneously solidifying. They were no more than a wet smear at first but, as their warmth began to sear her skin, they quickly became needles of penetrating heat. A large globule doused the tip of her nipple and inspired a diamond-bright flurry of anguish. She snatched gasps of breath around the apple but made
no attempt to pull away from him. Even when Donald pulled her closer ingratiating his knee between her legs then raising his candle over her other breast she obediently allowed herself to be manipulated. His thigh pressed against the split of her pussy lips, dryly rubbing the wet flesh and thrilling her through the centre of her sex. The hand around her waist throbbed with the potential for uncompromising force and she knew, even if she had tried to resist, Donald would not have allowed any opportunity for escape.

The second stream of wax was anticipated, yet no less exquisite because of that. The scalding flow startled her with its heat, then burrowed tendrils of punishing delight deep beneath her flesh. The warmth rushed quickly through her breasts and filled her body with a full and fetid demand.

Donald removed the hand from her waist and turned her around with the same casual movement. Brusquely, he pushed her over the edge of the table and made her bend.

She knew there was now no need for him to speak because his dominance over her was inarguable. She also realised his intentions were horribly obvious from the position he had made her assume. Her bare breasts, still aching from their dousing of wax, were pressed against the rough-hewn wood. Her naked backside was presented to him and he nudged her legs apart to allow himself uncompromised access to her gaping wetness.

The position was demeaning, and left her vulnerable and available for him. But rationalisation of those facts only added to her pleasure. Ginger's pet blonde squirmed against the table, eagerly awaiting the next display of his punishment and only making a half-hearted attempt to contain her response.
Tremors of anticipation shivered through her body and her mouth stretched awkwardly in an attempt to grin around the apple.

‘You have to learn that favours need to be earned,' he grumbled.

Donald stood between her legs, the coarse twill of his trouser legs tickling her inner thighs. From the corner of her eye she watched him exchange his candle for a fresh one. Attuned to every detail, noticing more than she thought was wise, Ginger's pet blonde saw that this one had a full cup of molten wax in the bowl beneath its flame. Her stomach folded as she thought how deliriously hot that would be and she pressed her body harder against the table. The abrasive surface scratched shards of arousal through her tortured orbs.

‘If you want something from me,' Donald continued, ‘whether it's permission to speak, or some avaricious reward that you think you deserve, you have to earn that favour. Am I making myself understood?'

She nodded, the only way of replying left available to her, and tried to make the gesture heartfelt and emphatic.

He shifted position and she realised both his legs were between her thighs.

Torn between conflicting desires, wanting him to douse her with the smouldering stream and loathe to surrender to that pain, Ginger's pet blonde held her breath and waited for his retribution. Her backside was tilted up slightly. She knew both her anus and pussy lips could be likely targets, and the prospect of having candle wax dribbled over her sensitive flesh left her quivering with anticipation.

Three separate droplets landed against her buttocks. The pain was sudden and breathtakingly
exquisite. She groaned as the heat stung ferociously before spreading its snakelike warmth deep into her flesh.

‘Am I making myself clear?' he asked.

Ginger's pet blonde tried to grunt her answer through the apple but the only sound that would come out was a throttled cry. Two more drops of wax spat against her rear and she could imagine them sizzling against her skin before beginning to cool. Her heartbeat pounded at a relentless tempo and she felt ready to scream for him to stop teasing.

‘Are you beginning to understand that I expect favours to be earned?'

She nodded again, praying that he would see the movement and hoping it would be enough of an answer to satisfy him.

He slapped a hand against her backside and she stiffened as the blow rekindled the burning memory of the wax that had already been spilt. Clawlike fingers buried into her cheeks and she briefly wondered why it felt as though he was trying to stretch her flesh. The answer only became clear when she realised he was making the crease of her sex more accessible. The sensitive flesh of her pussy lips was momentarily pulled taut she had time to work out what was happening and then she was struck by a scalding splash of wet wax.

From the corner of her eye she had noticed the dining room's open fire. Crossed logs, blackened to charcoal and glowing dull orange, were trapped in the heart of the flames. But Ginger's pet blonde didn't believe those coals could be as hot as the scorching heat that now swept from her sex.

She tried to squirm away from the source of the heat but it burnt into her pussy lips like a branding iron. Her body was drenched with a sweat that shone like grease in the candlelight. Her outer labia were
simultaneously immune to further sensations and overloaded with unbearable relief. The stimulation was tremendous and torrential and she gulped whooping gasps of air as pleasure buffeted through every pore.

‘I think you're beginning to understand,' Donald conceded.

His voice came from the end of a long, long tunnel. From the periphery of her vision she watched him return the candle to the dining table, and exchange it for a fresh one, but the consequence of that action meant nothing to her. Focused only on the extremes of her personal euphoria, languishing in a golden haze of unexpected delight, she thrashed against the table and crept ever closer to the bliss of release.

‘You seem like a quick learner, for a pet,' Donald went on. ‘So it shouldn't take much more of a lesson before you understand exactly what I'm saying.'

His words promised further torment and she wondered if her body would be able to tolerate much more of the delicious abuse. But there was no opportunity to voice her fears, or beg him to hesitate or let her catch her breath. As she was trying to think of a way to make her reservations known, while her mind was still trying to formulate some way of showing that he had already taken her to the limits of unimagined extremes, Donald poured a fresh stream of wax against her rectum.

She had never imagined the ring of muscle could be more sensitive than her pussy lips, and had thought she had passed the pinnacle of the night's worst suffering, but Donald was effortlessly proving her wrong. The white-hot spatter made her sphincter clench, and inadvertently sent her shivering through the thrill of a climax. The pleasure was divine unexpectedly intense and took her to a plateau
where she didn't even notice the remainder of the wax trickling down and dousing her labia. Releasing a muffled scream, she tried to clench her jaw in a bitter refusal of the delight. But the effort only resulted in making her teeth plunge more deeply into the apple.

Donald slammed the candle down on the table and placed one hand on each of her buttocks. His grip was strong as before, Ginger's pet blonde was tortured by the idea that he was trying to pull her in two different directions and the flesh of her sex was incensed by fresh torment. The molten wax that had been poured over her cleft had quickly begun to set and, at some point during its cooling process, she realised it had adhered to her skin. When Donald eased her cheeks apart some of that contact was broken and the bite of the wax's parting kiss introduced her pussy lips to new worlds of pain.

‘Has the message sunk in yet?' he demanded.

She nodded vigorously.

One hand moved from the ripe swell of her buttock and his graceless fingertips brushed over the throbbing ache of her sex. A callused finger grazed her flesh and the rough tip of a thumbnail scratched delicately at her skin. On an intuitive level she understood what he was planning but it still came as a shock when he peeled the first strip of wax away.

This time her scream made it well beyond the obstruction of the apple. Ginger's pet blonde racked herself back and forth against the table as bolts of raw anguish rang like church bells through the lips of her sex. She hadn't acclimatised herself to the pain and knew it would be impossible for her body to ever adjust to such debilitating anguish when Donald peeled the second strip away from her anus.

Sobbing and shrieking as the orgasm scorched through her, quivering with a meld of loathing,
gratitude, hatred and elation, she collapsed over the table in a haze of delirium. The after-thrills of the climax were still trembling through her body when Donald pushed his hips forward and entered her.

They both groaned.

She couldn't recall feeling his hands leave her body, and didn't know when he had managed to retrieve the erection from his trousers, but the penetration of his long, thick shaft was enough to take her back to the peak of delight. Her flesh was hypersensitive, not just tingling with the familiar thrill of arousal but sparkling from the abuse of the hot wax and its crude removal. Every thrust ignited a fresh surge of responses and the excess of pleasure left her dizzy and oversated.

‘Has the message sunk in yet?' he demanded.

She could barely hear him over the pounding of blood that throbbed through her head. Every inch of her body was alive with the elation he inspired. Her breasts still sparked bright memories of the joy he had evoked and, between her legs, she was enjoying more stimulation than she had ever known. He repeatedly pushed in and out but, aside from the blissful pain of each penetration, she couldn't honestly understand how he was using her. The sensations had become such a blur of intermingled joy he could have been entering her pussy or defiling the forbidden depths of her anus.

‘Has the message finally sunk in?' he grunted.

She tried to remember what message he might mean but the conversation had started so long ago, and so much had happened since then, Ginger's pet blonde was no longer sure she was following the details. She didn't doubt she had deserved Donald's displeasure, and felt sure he had been justified in punishing her with such severity, but the reasons
remained frustratingly elusive. More than that, with the release of her most recent orgasm all those worries had been bleached from her thoughts and she was beyond caring about anything beyond the realms of her own satisfaction.

Another rush of joy exploded from her cleft and she writhed beneath the torment of her pulsing clitoris. Donald was riding her with skilful determination, holding her cheeks apart and plunging back and forth at a rigorous pace. He occasionally grunted with the effort, squeezing his fingers deeper into her buttocks and pushing himself as deep as he was able.

Gasping with tormented euphoria, Ginger's pet blonde remembered that, before Donald had chosen to punish her, she had been disparaging about her position within the household. She had thought her vocation as a pet was a mistake and that there were no benefits to being the plaything of undeserving superiors. But, as another orgasm screeched through her body, making her scream and inciting the hairs on the back of her neck to bristle with pure delight, she understood that there could be no more satisfying role in life.

Donald seemed oblivious to her epiphany. ‘If you want to ask a favour, you have to earn a favour,' he grumbled. ‘I do hope you've learnt that lesson now.'

She nodded again, no longer throwing all her vigour into the gesture, merely rocking her head as an extension to his forceful thrusts. She didn't know if he had noticed her reply but she felt Donald hold himself rigid and knew that every muscle in his body had become taut.

Her inner muscles clenched and unclenched as though they were eager to accept his climax. The scalding heat of his ejaculation spattered deep inside her and a final surge of joy shook through her frame.
She still couldn't work out which of her holes he had been using and, as he pulled himself free, the distinction no longer seemed important. He sighed, praised her with a familiar groan of muted satisfaction, then sat back heavily in the chair.

‘Lovely,' he mumbled. ‘That was quite, quite lovely.'

No longer pressed against the table, Ginger's pet blonde slid gracefully to the floor. The release had been immense and the challenge of trying to support her own weight was more than she could manage. Lowering herself to his feet, feeling her buttocks slip against the chilly wetness of the wine he had spilt, she stared gratefully up at him as the first tears of relief began to trail down her cheeks.

Donald reached down to her face, an avuncular smile creasing his lips. Using the pad of his thumb he wiped her face dry, then eased the apple from between her teeth. Contemplating her with an expression of warmth and understanding he said, ‘Very well. You were so desperate to speak before, why don't you tell me whatever it was that was so important? You're only mocking me with your refusal to obey my commands. So get it over and done with, girl. What did you want to say?'

Shivering, Ginger's pet blonde regarded him meekly and wiped a combination of apple juice and saliva from around her mouth. Her lips felt stretched from the presence of the apple and her jaw ached after the trauma of being held open and wide for too long. It took an effort of memory to recall the reason why she had deliberately sought out the master and, when she did remember, she was suddenly touched by the fear that he might be cross with her for not giving him the message sooner.

Testing a conciliatory smile, hoping he would either be able to contain his wrath on this occasion,
or at least give her time to recover, she whispered, ‘I came in here to tell you where the runaway is.' Her throat felt hoarse with the exertion of the words. But, seeing his brow furrow, she knew she had to continue. ‘I came in here to tell you where you can find your Kitten.'

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