Seven Scarlet Tales (28 page)

Perhaps, if it weren’t for her, Emma would have had her big break.

Perhaps, after all, her love was a selfish one.

And now here they were, parked up outside this tatty service station, contemplating ruin. Allyson knew she would be invited to take the fall for McKenna and the Mr Bigs behind him. She was looking at a good stretch in Holloway, without doubt. And there would be punishment for Emma, too – and not the kind she liked. The kind that would spoil her pretty face and leave her no career alternative but to prostitute herself in one of McKenna’s brothels.

‘OK, Em,’ she said, taking her paper cup of coffee as her lover climbed back into the car. ‘This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to make a call or two from the payphone up by the services. You’re going to take this car, turn it around and go back to the cottage. I’m going to ask Richard if he can help you. They won’t come looking for you, you’re small fry. Richard can get you a place in a different town, a new name, all of that.’

‘What? No. I’m coming with you.’

‘No you ain’t, sweetheart. Not a chance. I’ve got to go and face the music, but I’ll be all right. I’ll be out in a couple of years.’

‘Al, don’t! We don’t even know that it’s this!’

‘We can’t risk it. I can’t let you risk it. You’ve done nothing to deserve trouble. I have.’

‘I should have told you.’ A tear was in the corner of Emma’s eye. Allyson leant over and kissed it away.

‘You weren’t to know. Now, look, are you going to do as I say?’

‘I can’t let you …’

‘Emma.’ There was a tense silence, broken only by their hiss as they simultaneously burnt their tongues on the blistering coffee. ‘I’m going to call Richard now,’ she said. ‘On the payphone so they can’t trace it. Stay here.’

She couldn’t look at Emma’s face. She walked to the phone, jingling her purse, with her eyes fixed hard on the telecoms company logo. Stay calm. She had to stay calm.

Richard was trying his best to keep the noise down, but the bed was creaky and the cottage so small that he didn’t doubt some of Lucy’s little wails and moans were filtering through the walls and doors to where Emma, Blake and Allyson lay beyond.

This was going to be the noisiest part of all. He put his hands on her shoulders from behind and lifted her from her bent angle, removing her mouth from Rob’s cock, to his fellow dom’s gasped disappointment.

The dismay was to be short-lived, however.

Richard put his hand over Lucy’s mouth and spoke softly into her ear.

‘Get on him. Get his hard cock inside you.’

He nudged Lucy into the right position, the pair of them straddling Rob’s thighs, then he held the back of her neck and watched Rob’s thick stalk disappear up inside his lover’s tight sheath. What a sight that was to see. Her round bottom cheeks, pink from a session with a suede flogger, pushed out towards Richard, hinting at pleasures to be had.

Lucy’s sighs were effectively muffled by his big palm pushed against her face until she was fully impaled and Rob reached up to fondle her breasts, his eyes glazed with lust.

Threesome sex was not, after all, as awkward or uncomfortable as Richard had always assumed it might be. After a few initial misunderstandings, he and Rob had established a partnership, working together to dominate Lucy in the ways she most wanted. It wasn’t like having a rival. It was a bit like watching a porn film and participating in it at the same time. He didn’t feel threatened by Rob and, although he knew Rob still felt a little threatened by him, the prickliness was fading now.

He took his hand from Lucy’s mouth, trusting her to behave herself now, and held her hips firmly while she rode Rob, making sure she didn’t slack.

‘What do you think of that rule, Rob?’ Richard whispered. ‘That rule about Emma not being allowed to come? Do you think we should give that a try some time?’

‘No,’ whimpered Lucy, grinding away.

Rob put his hand between Lucy’s thighs and began to rub at her clitoris.

‘She’d never make it,’ he said. ‘She’d fail that test straight away.’

‘I think you’re right,’ said Richard. ‘She doesn’t realise, does she, that her orgasm doesn’t belong to her. It belongs to us. She gets it when we feel she deserves it. Don’t you think?’

‘Might be fun to try sometime,’ gasped Rob, redder in the face now and damper on the brow.

‘Maybe not tonight,’ conceded Richard. He tightened his hold on her hips. ‘Hope you’re not too close. You’ve got a long way to go yet.’

He let go of her then and pushed her spine downwards so that she lay almost flat on Rob’s chest, altering the angle at which he was fucking her.

Now Rob had hold of Lucy’s hips and Richard was free to lubricate between her bottom cheeks, which had become temptingly available in a rudely displayed invitation.

‘Oh God,’ gasped Lucy. She knew what was coming.

Richard smiled and pushed his fingers further.

It had become an unspoken competition between himself and Rob: who would get the front door and who the back? Somehow, taking her anally seemed to score more kudos points, though neither had ever discussed it. But they jockeyed for this position every time and the one who lost was always obscurely resentful.

Tonight, I win, thought Richard, mentally totting up the number of times he had been the victor in their double penetration game. He made it four to Rob’s three.
Got to keep on top
.

‘What’s the matter, Lucy?’ asked Richard, thrusting two
fingers in and out of her. ‘You must have been expecting this. You know perfectly well that when we three get together your arse is going to get filled at some point. Don’t you?’ He jabbed and she wriggled violently.

‘Yes, sir,’ she admitted.

‘You’d be disappointed if it wasn’t. Wouldn’t you.’

She made an incoherent sound, perhaps hoping that it would stand in for this humiliating confession.

Richard shook his head. Surely she knew him better than that.

‘Wouldn’t you?’ he repeated, holding his fingers all the way in and twisting them.

‘Yes, sir,’ she said hurriedly, breathlessly, the words mutating into a moan. Rob must be rubbing up against her g-spot. Richard needed to get inside her before she lost control of herself.

‘Still, Lucy,’ he commanded.

It was Rob who obeyed the order, though, holding her in place so that Richard could start inserting his long, stiff rod into her compact passage.

Lucy had had this so many times, and yet she never seemed to get used to it. There was always that moment, not quite all the way in, when she insisted it was never going to fit and she couldn’t take it. It had almost become ritual and, for Richard, it made this ceremony all the sweeter.

Tonight was no exception.

‘Oh God, I can’t,’ she panted. ‘I just can’t. Please!’

‘You know you can.’

He held her by her round breasts and eased himself all the way up, the tight fit making his head swim with pleasure.

‘There,’ said Rob. ‘I know he’s in now. I can feel it, too. You’re exactly where you belong now, Luce. Exactly.’

Richard took up the theme. ‘This is your place in the world. Between your masters, filled with their cocks. Wherever else you might go, you always know that you aren’t where you belong until you’re here. It’s true, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Take a moment to enjoy being in your special place.’

All three of them held their positions. Richard didn’t know what the other two were feeling, but he knew that the rest of life was anticlimactic compared to being here, snug in Lucy’s rear, held close in her hot clutches.

They began to move very slowly, experimentally, tiny twitches. Richard ground his hips, Rob did likewise. Lucy, on the receiving end of both their efforts, snuffled and whimpered.

They kept up this economy of motion for as long as they could, using their hands and mouths to increase her stimulation, sometimes clashing, two hands on the same breast, both mouths on her neck simultaneously.

Richard would start the thrusting, then Rob would try to complement it, so that as one pushed forward, the other pulled back. This was not easy to achieve or sustain, though, and the rhythm often faltered. Not that it seemed to worry Lucy, who was kicking her feet and pummelling the mattress, so very close to her orgasm now.

‘Oh, I’m going to … I’m going to …’

Richard sped up then and started to make his thrusts big and punishing. Lucy buried her head in Rob’s shoulder, jerking between them as if trying to escape, but of course, that was out of the question.

He kept going as she yelped and twisted beneath him. She always came so hard like this, as if her very essence was being ripped from her. Perhaps it was.

Once she was limp and spent, he and Rob moved to their savage endgame. Who would be last to come? Nobody wanted to finish first.

Richard had to concede. It was much easier to hold off in Rob’s position – the only drawback of winning his rear occupancy. He held Lucy by the neck and poured himself into her, swearing as he emptied. Then he had to wait for Rob, enjoying the sensation of his softening inside the dark recess, deliberately not looking at his rival’s face. He didn’t need to see it.

Afterwards, they lay Lucy on her back and held her and kissed her all over. She was always a little faint after these occasions, and in need of reassurance that she was treasured and adored for her permissiveness, and not reviled.

Richard understood that what they did together took her to a dark and secret centre of herself and afterwards she was shatterably vulnerable. He took his time with her, as did Rob, showing her how grateful they both were for the licenses she granted them.

‘Thanks for coming,’ he said, when she had been kissed and loved back into herself.

‘I wasn’t sure at first,’ she said. ‘I’m still not sure I’d want to go as far as Emma goes. But it’s so interesting. People do these things so differently, and yet the world calls them all the same thing. Perverts, freaks, kinky weirdoes.’

‘The world.’ Rob kissed her nipple. ‘You know what we think of that.’

‘You’re my world,’ she said seriously. ‘The two of you. I don’t want to live anywhere else.’

The phone shrilled out downstairs, making all three of them jump.

‘What the fuck?’ said Rob. ‘That’s the second time tonight.’

They lay drowsing, listening to Blake’s indistinct voice.

‘Rich,’ he called.

Richard sat up.

‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ he muttered, running a hand through his hair. ‘Who is it?’ he called.

‘Allyson.’

‘Allyson? But she’s—’

‘I heard the door go earlier,’ said Lucy. ‘But hadn’t she been drinking? She can’t have driven anywhere. Maybe she went for a midnight walk and got lost?’

Richard grunted his dismissal of these ideas, pulled on his dressing gown and went to the phone.

‘Where is she?’ he asked Blake, who handed him the receiver.

‘Don’t know. She only wants to talk to you.’

Blake, bad-tempered at being woken, threw himself back on the camp bed.

‘Allyson, what the fuck’s going on? We’re trying to sleep here.’

‘Never mind that. Something’s happened and I need your help.’

‘What? Where are you?’

‘You don’t need to know that. I want you to promise me something. It’s important. I don’t want to blackmail you, but I know and you know …’

‘Allyson, Jesus! What is this?’

‘I want you to promise you’ll take care of Emma.’

‘Take care of her? Why? Where are you going?’

‘Probably to prison. You’ll see. But I don’t want to talk about that. Promise me.’

‘OK, I promise. Take care of her how?’

‘You know people. I want you to find a place for her.

Somewhere out of the country. Maybe a new passport, identity, that kind of thing. Get her to safety. Can you do that for me?’

‘I don’t know. I can try, I suppose.’

‘You’ve got to. It’s important. If I can’t save Emma, then …’

He heard her gasp for breath. Tough-as-old-boots Allyson, the only woman he’d ever been afraid of, was on the verge of tears.

His stomach lurched. Something bad was happening here.

‘Please, Richard,’ she whispered. ‘It’s all I care about. Please look after her for me.’

‘Of course. I will. Of course.’

‘Thanks. You’re a mate. I owe you one, OK? She’ll be with you soon; she’s driving back to the cottage in my car. Try and get her out of the UK as quickly as you can, right?’

‘OK. I’ll make some calls.’

‘See you in a few years then.’

‘Al!’

But she’d hung up.

Peregrine Sands was enjoying some late-night drama, but he was nowhere near a theatre.

Instead, Callie Reddish was bound, hand and foot, to an interesting cross-shaped apparatus he’d ordered from a fetish furniture catalogue. It made a splendid addition to his apartment, he decided, especially when an attractive naked woman was lashed to it with leather ties, having her shapely bottom flogged by her other boyfriend. Leo never put quite enough finesse into the operation for Peregrine’s tastes. He was enthusiastic, but amateur. Just as he was as an actor.

‘No, Leo, you need to hold it differently.’

Peregrine stepped up, took the whip from Leo’s hand and demonstrated a grip that facilitated stronger, more compact lashings.

He laid ten such on Callie’s reddening rear, enjoying her little mewls of pain.

‘Ah, I get you,’ said Leo. ‘Give us the whip again.’

‘Better.’ Peregrine watched, stroking his chin, as Leo tried hard to hold back and flog with a little more elegance.

‘How much do you think she should get?’

‘How much do you want to give?’

‘I don’t know.’

Peregrine sighed. Leo wasn’t his ablest pupil. He tolerated the young man for Callie’s sake really: she had this silly fondness for him. She also kept dropping hints that she wanted menage sex, but Peregrine had no wish to share a bed with the fellow.

‘Do you want me to finish off?’

Leo handed Peregrine the whip again.

Peregrine thrashed Callie until she was incoherent, then laid a few upward flicks on her pussy, just for an encore.

‘If you want to fuck her, Leo, take her to the spare bedroom. The bed’s made up. You can call a cab from here once you’ve finished.’