Perfect Slave (13 page)

He stood back. She heard a rustle of clothing. He took off his shirt and jacket and hung them on the back of the door, then pulled off his shoes and socks. Quickly he removed his trousers and pants.

‘Too good an opportunity to miss,' he muttered, almost to himself.

He took her by the hips and pulled her back against him. She felt his hot cock slide between her shamefully wet sex lips.

‘Christ, I wonder if I can get some of the other girls to volunteer for this place,' her chuckled. ‘What about that friend of yours. Pam, is it? I'd love to get her in here as well. Perhaps I could have the two of you together.'

He thrust forward. Andrea felt his cock plough deep into her vagina. She was very wet, the bondage and the whip having the usual consequences. This was a new low in humiliation, but it was precisely that, she realised, which made it so exciting. Her total submission, her obedience, was being tested to the limit. She knew why Hawksworth had selected her, instead of Julia or one of the other girls, to be the ‘prize'. She even wondered if the draw had been rigged so she was sure to end up with Highfield. It was all a test. If she wanted to be a slave, to truly serve her master, the more extreme the test the more she could prove herself to him. The psychology might be twisted, but that didn't mean it wasn't absolutely appropriate.

But it wasn't only that. Highfield's cock was rigid and large, and almost despite herself Andrea found the penetration welcome. Her cunt had been neglected since she'd been at the house. After last night, after the softness and subtlety of a woman's mouth, the hard, unsubtle shunting of Highfield's cock was exactly what she needed.

‘Christ, I wish I could have done this to you over my desk in the office,' he said between gritted teeth. ‘Why didn't you tell me you're into all this, you little bitch? I would've tied you up and fucked you every fucking day.'

Suddenly he stopped. He pulled out of her. ‘Kneel,' he said. He spun her round and forced her to her knees, his large cock bobbing in front of her face. He clamped her head in his hands and fed it deep into her mouth. She tasted her own juices.

‘Come on, suck it,' he said crudely.

She did exactly that. She sucked hard and Highfield moaned. She pulled back then pushed forward again so the cock would saw in and out of her mouth, but with her hands still strapped to her sides it was difficult to maintain her balance.

‘Faster,' he demanded, pushing and pulling her head back and forth until she achieved the rhythm he required. She felt his erection beginning to pulse. As he forced her head forward and his cock was driven right down to the back of her throat she used her tongue to lick the ridge at the base of his glans.

‘You little bitch, you're good at this.'

She sucked hard again as he pulled her back, then ran her tongue over the top of his glans. His cock jerked violently and he stuffed it back into her mouth, just as his spunk began sputtering from the tip, gobs of thick liquid pearling down her throat. He clamped her head still, his fingers suddenly as hard as steel, and made a little mewing noise as he shuddered and filled her mouth again.

Andrea swallowed earnestly. His spunk tasted salty.

‘Your turn,' he said, grinning wearily as he pulled away from her.

‘What do you mean?' she asked.

‘You'll see.'

He went to the corner of the room. What Andrea had thought to be part of the wall was in fact a flush-fitting cupboard door which was also covered in black carpet. Highfield pulled it open, then dragged a strange looking frame into the middle of the room. It consisted of what looked like a barstool, but instead of a flat surface the sturdy legs supported a leather saddle, complete with stirrups. It had an American style pommel in the centre at the front.

‘Climb up here,' Highfield ordered, slapping the saddle a few times.

‘What are you going to do to me?' After four days of training herself not to response spontaneously it felt strange to be able to talk freely again.

Highfield grinned. ‘You'll see. Or rather, you won't. Sit on the saddle.'

With her arms bound it proved difficult to climb onto the stool. Highfield had to help her put one foot in a stirrup, then lift her leg over the saddle as though mounting a horse. As she did she noticed there was a series of holes in the centre of the leather.

The stirrups could be adjusted, and Highfield pulled them higher so Andrea's legs were bent up and her heels were tucked under her buttocks. Straps were provided to make sure the occupant remained in this position, and Highfield buckled them tightly around her ankles.

‘That's better,' he said, standing back to admire his handiwork.

He went to the cupboard on the other wall. Andrea heard the door open. When he came back he was carrying a long black strip of black silk. Without a word he placed it over her eyes then bound it tightly around her head.

‘Lovely hair,' he said. She felt his hand stroking it.

The blindfold intensified her excitement. Deprived of one sense all the others overcompensated. She was able to feel all the little trills of arousal that were coursing through her body.

She heard Highfield moving again. The cupboard door creaked. Then she thought he was kneeling in front of the stool. She felt his hand touch her leg, then something was pushing up through one of the holes in the saddle. It butted against the top of her labia, pushed, and then retreated again. A second later it re-emerged through another of the holes, this one immediately under the opening of her vagina.

‘That's the one,' Highfield said.

The object thrust and Andrea gasped. It was a phallus, hard and cold and large. It filled her completely.

‘Like that, do you?'

Andrea had to admit to herself that she did. Her sex reacted violently, contracting around the dildo. It was so large it stretched her labia apart and exposed her clitoris, which began throbbing with pleasure. This was after all what she loved. She was bound and helpless. A slave, an object to be used in whatever way her master saw fit. Giving her to Highfield was part of his largesse.

In the darkness she could see herself mounted on the horse, in tight black leather, her arms tied to her sides, the black silk banding her eyes, her legs tucked up under her. The image excited her intensely. She found herself pushing down on the phallus, grinding her hips from side to side so her clitoris rubbed against the pommel of the saddle.

‘We'll warm you up a bit.'

She knew what that meant. Another surge of excitement swept over her. He was going to whip her. She could hear him crossing the room again. She held her breath.

Thwack
! A leather whip landed hard against her leather-covered arse. She bucked up on the saddle as much as the bonds on her ankles would allow, pulling up off the phallus then sinking back down again. God, that felt good.

Thwack
! She rose again. It was like riding a horse. The pain from the whip transmuted to pleasure. She dropped down onto the dildo again, using her weight to force it deep. It wasn't going to take long to come like this.

‘I have to have permission,' she told him urgently.

‘I told you this is your turn. I want to see you come.'

That was all she needed. As he cut two more blows down on her buttocks the stinging pain routed straight to her sex, and she rode the hard dildo buried so deep inside her, the wonderful feelings she was experiencing combined. Like a wave roaring onto a beach her orgasm gathered all its strength, mounting higher and higher before finally crashing down on the shore, making her moan as she squirmed down on the saddle, spreading her legs apart as far as she could to get the dildo deeper, and crushed her clitoris against the leather, a stream of juices running down over the phallus and the saddle.

 

Andrea had been taken to the bathrooms to shower. Her hair was pinned up in a tight chignon and her make-up retouched, then she was given something to eat.

Ten minutes later Laurie arrived. As usual she placed clothes on the bed. ‘Put those on, quickly,' she ordered, then closed and locked the door again.

Andrea wasn't sure what time it was, but she had the feeling it was early. That was heartening, she thought. Before the master had called for her in the middle of the night, if he wanted her now it was possible he wanted to spend more time with her.

Highfield had left her tied on the saddle in the punishment room, with the blindfold still covering her eyes and the dildo firmly in place. Laurie had removed it and unstrapped her, and she'd then returned to what she thought of as her cell in the stable block.

She had plenty of time to think about what had happened. That afternoon had been one of the most humiliating experiences of her life. Before she could pretend that her extraordinary responses were caused by Hawksworth and the almost hypnotic effect he had on her, but that afternoon he'd not been there. She had been used. Totally used. And yet she still responded with a degree of intensity that astonished her. It appeared that as long as she was bound and helpless, and was required to be completely submissive, her body responded with unquestioning arousal. She had no idea why. There was something deep in her psyche that yearned for such treatment. And she was only grateful that Charles Darrington Hawksworth was there to provide it in spades.

She picked up the clothes Laurie had left. There was a red strapless tube dress, a white strapless bra, a pair of flesh-coloured but shiny hold-up stockings, and a pair of red shoes with gold heels and a little gold motif on the toe. Again, there were no panties.

Andrea slipped on the clothes. The dress was tight, clinging to the curves of her body, the material smooth and glossy, its bodice displaying a great deal of cleavage. The skirt was just long enough to conceal the tops of the stockings.

The door opened again.

‘Good,' Laurie said approvingly, then the brunette came right up to Andrea, their faces only inches apart. ‘Kiss me,' she said.

Andrea was puzzled. Laurie had never made any attempt to use her without Hawksworth being present. But she didn't think she had any choice. She lent forward and pressed her lips against Laurie's. Immediately the brunette wrapped her arms around her and plunge her tongue between her lips. Andrea was sure she could feel the little gold rings that pierced her nipples, hard and cold as they pressed into her own breasts.

‘One day,' Laurie said as she pulled away. Andrea could see the lust in her eyes. Her own body was tingling; the memories of what Laurie had done to her instantly revived.

The brunette used a finger to remove a smudge of lipstick that had smeared onto Andrea's chin. ‘Hands behind your back and turn around.'

Andrea obeyed. The cold metal of handcuffs clicked around her wrists.

‘Follow me.'

They walked into the main house. As on her first night they went to the sitting room then through to the smaller dining room. Charles Hawksworth was sitting at the table on his own. A maid stood by the kitchen door.

‘Good evening, my dear.'

Andrea wasn't sure whether she should respond, so she remained quiet.

‘You look stunning. You may leave us, Laurie, thank you.'

Laurie smiled and left the room.

‘Please sit down.' Hawksworth was wearing a pair of slacks and a white shirt. He indicated the chair next to him, but made no effort to pull it out from under the table. Awkwardly Andrea managed to reach around and grip the back of the chair and drag it out. She sat down.

The master lent forward. Those deep-blue eyes burned into her.

‘Highfield was very pleased with you. He said you were most responsive. He was surprised he'd never realised your... potential.'

Andrea squirmed slightly. She could still feel the shadow of the dildo deep in her sex.

‘I was right about you, wasn't I? You are a natural, aren't you?'

‘Yes, master,' she said with sincerity.

He gestured to the maid at the door. Andrea had seen her on her first night in the house. She was tall with red hair. ‘Another brandy, Philippa.'

The maid disappeared into the kitchen. Hawksworth lent forward. His hand cupped Andrea's left breast. She felt her whole body tingle. It was the most tender gesture he had ever made to her.

‘I'm going to take you into the punishment room, Andrea. I have something special in mind.'

‘Yes, master.' Andrea felt her heart leap. The idea of being alone with Hawksworth was thrilling, no matter where he was taking her. She could see real desire in his eyes.

Hawksworth got to his feet as Philippa reappeared with the brandy. ‘Come with us,' he said, pulling Andrea to her feet.

Andrea felt instant disappointment. It looked as if they were not going to be alone after all. Did he plan to use Philippa as he'd used Julia on her first night?

They walked through the big house. Hawksworth opened the door of the punishment room and ushered both women in ahead of him.

The room had clearly been prepared for his visit. The saddle stool had been put away and in its place suspended from two chains in the middle of the room was a long tubular metal bar. Six thick leather straps were bolted to the metal.