Seven Scarlet Tales (30 page)

But Emma had heard her and looked over, pale as milk and haunted of eye, until she saw who had called her.

‘Sorry,’ muttered Lucy, squirming violently. The menthol coating of the plug was moving into its most diabolical phase.

‘You will be,’ said Rob, then he stood and held out a hand to Emma.

‘Please don’t call me that,’ she said, hurrying over.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Lucy, almost in tears now – partly from the thought of having to get up and then sit down again, if she was honest with herself.

‘She’ll be punished for it, don’t worry,’ said Richard, standing himself and folding the former Geisha Girl into a heartfelt embrace. ‘It’s great to see you, love.’

‘And you,’ said Emma. ‘Really great.’

‘I hope Peregrine and Celia have been looking after you.’

‘Oh yes. Celia’s been wonderful. And Peregrine’s been Peregrine.’

‘As you’d expect,’ chuckled Richard. ‘I’ve got a note for you, from Allyson.’

He took an envelope from his breast pocket and passed it into Emma’s hand.

She stepped out of his arms and turned her back to read the message.

Lucy noticed how her elbows shook and jerked around, her shoulder blades severely knitted.

‘Thanks,’ said Emma, turning back. ‘Thanks so much. So she thinks she might be up for parole, next year. That’ll change the whole scene again. She can’t come here, can she?’

‘Love will find a way,’ said Richard.

Emma smiled away the anxious frown.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Oh, right, they’re shooting the final scene on the sheet now. Should be ready to pack up very soon.’

The group hushed and watched as Celia Britt walked into the set. She was wearing a very sexy nipped-in and flared-out fifties-style skirt suit with sky-high heels and the set was an office, with a well-known actor sitting behind the desk.

They couldn’t hear the dialogue very well from where they sat, but they were well positioned to watch Celia bend herself over the desk while the actor walked around to her rear.

His hand fell, over and over, on the tight seat of her skirt.

Lucy kept expecting the director to call ‘cut’ – especially when Celia began to utter some rather genuine-sounding yelps – but he didn’t.

‘Celia and Tack are together in real life,’ whispered Emma. ‘It makes the chemistry really hot in their scenes.’

Lucy didn’t doubt it. This was doing absolutely nothing to stem the flow in her panties. That was what they called them here. Panties.

She crossed her legs, shifting that damnable plug into an even more uncomfortable position, but at least the coating was starting to wear off now.

All the same, if she didn’t get to come very, very soon, she was going to go crazy.

She nudged Rob.

‘Will you take me to the bathroom?’ she whispered.

‘Bathroom?’

‘That’s what they call it here. The bathroom. Weird, because there’s no bath in it, but …’

‘I know that. Why do you want me to take … oO. Come on then.’

Richard didn’t look as if he approved, but Lucy was past caring. She was already due a punishment – he could do his worst.

In a stall of the really rather splendid Ladies’ – pink marble fittings, with a tray of selected perfumes by the door – Lucy lifted her skirt and let Rob lift her, until she was wedged between him and the wall.

The sex was necessarily fast and frantic, but Lucy felt a bone-deep relief with each hard thrust Rob made inside her.

She felt him nudge the plug every time he plunged in, and the sinful sensation of double penetration sent her quickly and giddily to the brink of orgasm.

Which was where Rob particularly liked to keep her.

He stopped moving and stood, pinning her tight, quite still.

‘Noooo,’ she moaned, thrashing about against him.

‘Not yet,’ he whispered. ‘Naughty girl.’

‘Please let me come. Please.’

‘Patience.’ His hands, which were holding her at the meeting of buttock and thigh, pulled her bottom cheeks wider. She had to clench on to the plug, suddenly fearing that it might fly out. Not that that was likely to happen. The reminder of its presence made her feel small and humble and utterly submissive.

She knew this was what Rob was waiting for, and she prepared herself for the resumption of the engagement.

‘Now you can come,’ he said.

He drove into her hard and she needed little more of this treatment before she was seeing stars.

Satisfied, a little bruised and dripping with something other than her own juices now, Lucy put her panties back on and spritzed herself with a heady Versace scent before kissing Rob deeply and returning to the set.

Emma and Richard, both perfectly aware of what had just been done to her, gave her knowing looks. Emma’s eyes widened when she noticed the difficulty Lucy had in sitting back down.

‘You’re wearing a plug,’ she accused.

‘She is,’ confirmed Richard.

‘You lucky cow,’ said Emma wistfully. ‘Is it a punishment?’

‘Yes.’ Richard again.

Lucy both loved and hated how he never spared her an iota of shame or humiliation.

‘Aren’t you seeing anyone? You know, here?’ she asked.

‘Nothing serious. I don’t like to get involved. Peregrine’s been scratching the itch since he arrived, but that’s just a friendship, as you know.’ She sighed. ‘I do miss having someone who wants
my
submission, rather than just
some
submission.’

The director called ‘Cut’ and Celia, who by now was out of her pencil skirt and jacket with Tack between her thighs pretending to fuck her, stood up and said, ‘If my bum looks big in that shot I won’t be happy.’

‘It looks great, Celia, real cute and petite,’ Tack assured her.

But she was already off set, picking up her bag and marching towards the dressing rooms.

Peregrine drifted over, linen jacket slung over his shoulder.

‘That’s it for today. We’ll just wait for Tack and Celia and then I’ll lead the way to my not-so-humble abode.’

Peregrine was right about his abode being not-so-humble.

As Richard, Lucy and Rob followed his car up the driveway, each one exclaimed at the perfect setting and the giant swimming pool.

‘Pool party!’ cried Lucy.

‘I think she’s getting overexcited again,’ said Rob, and she calmed herself instantly.

By the time they’d parked in the carport and transferred their luggage to their guest room, the others were outside by the pool, enjoying cocktails.

A bikini-clad Emma was in the water, doing laps with Tack, while Celia and Peregrine lounged on recliners, chatting about the movie.

Lucy, still plugged and feeling messy, sweaty and sex-stained in her little skater skirt and poplin top, was almost too embarrassed to join them.

Richard and Rob bore her on, though, bringing her to stand in front of Peregrine while they took the two spare recliners.

‘Cocktail, gentlemen? What’s your poison?’

Lucy, ignored for the moment while Peregrine pottered over to his mobile cabinet, could do nothing more than stand there, feeling the languid gaze of Celia upon her.

‘Long time no see, Richard,’ she said.

‘Too long,’ he replied. ‘You’re looking great, as ever.’

Lucy pressed her lips together, trying to bite back a stab of jealousy. It was in the past. Richard was with her now. He’d said so dozens of times. And Celia had Tack, the
Hot Property
magazine’s Stud of the Year.

It was all good, she said to herself, all good.

‘Aren’t you coming in?’ Tack shouted.

‘Can’t risk sunburn, darling.’

‘Jeez, Ceel, you’re smothered in factor three thousand there. C’mon. Give that butt a workout.’

Celia sighed, shrugged off her kaftan and walked to the pool.

Lucy was fascinated to observe a few tiny pinprick bruises
at the exposed edge of her buttocks – Celia Britt had been recently spanked. Paddled, most likely. She recognised the effects. There was no make-up required for her onscreen spanking.

She made a move for the vacated sunlounger, but Richard held up his hand.

‘No,’ he said, and it was all he had to say.

She sighed with exasperation and tossed her hair, but she obeyed all the same.

Only when Peregrine had returned, with bespoke cocktails for her two lovers, was she permitted the luxury of notice.

‘Well, young lady,’ said Peregrine, reclining once more and putting out his cigarette. ‘You’re looking rather sheepish. Do I gather that there has been some misbehaviour?’

‘She was driving us mad on the plane,’ said Rob. ‘Wouldn’t give us a moment’s peace.’

‘Hm, not ideal on a twelve-hour flight,’ said Peregrine. ‘But I think there’s been some recent punishment, unless I’m very much mistaken and no longer recognise the walk of the plugged.’

‘You’re quite right,’ said Richard, enjoying Lucy’s florid embarrassment. ‘In fact, I think it’s time that was removed.’

He sat up and patted his thigh.

Lucy knew this might happen. They had discussed the idea of her first public scene taking place in the US, where she would benefit from the safety of her relative anonymity. The moment seemed to have come awfully soon, though.

She glanced over at the pool. The three swimmers were happily oblivious.

Peregrine’s broad smile, on the other hand, made her terribly nervous. But Richard was still patting his thigh and wouldn’t stand for hesitation.

She draped herself over his lap, directing her eyes to the ground. At least she didn’t have to watch him watching her …

Richard made a meal of raising her skirt and lowering her knickers, drawing Peregrine’s interested attention to the semen stain on the gusset.

‘Filthy little minx,’ murmured Peregrine. ‘I can imagine she needs plenty of correction.’

‘Plenty,’ said Richard, resting his fingertips lightly against her vulva for a moment before tracing the path to the plug.

This was always a stomach-churning moment, but Richard was especially cruel today, taking his time, tugging it little by little instead of his usual swift, eyewatering but clean motion.

Her muscles rebelled, wanting to cling to the dratted thing. She moaned with discomfort and the gentlemen laughed.

‘It had a heated rub stuff on it,’ said Rob. ‘Warmed her up, I think. Always makes her madly horny too. That’s why she was so desperate for a jump on set.’

‘I must get some of that. A kind of joint or muscle rub, is it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I daresay Emma would enjoy it. We’ve been exploring the pleasures of figging recently. Do you ever fig Lucy?’

‘All the time,’ said Richard.

Finally, it was out. Ah, the relief.

But the relief didn’t last long.

‘Where shall I?’ Richard held up the removed plug.

‘Oh, I’ll call the maid. Consuela!’

Lucy lay, bare bottom up, face on fire, as Peregrine’s maid approached the scene.

‘Put that in some soapy water, would you? It’s been in this bad girl’s bottom, so I wouldn’t touch anything other than the handle. Thank you so much.’

The maid said nothing, not even a yes or no. She must be familiar with this kind of thing, Lucy supposed, but all the same …

Richard’s hand travelled all over her back and shoulder blades, then lowered her skirt so that it covered her bottom once more.

He bent to speak into her ear.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Think so,’ she said, not really knowing the answer.

‘Let’s go to our room, shall we?’

‘Don’t you want to—’

‘There’s plenty of time, Luce. We’ve got two weeks. Let’s not gallop into anything you aren’t ready for.’

In their room, with its panoramic view of the hills and its ensuite magnificence, Lucy reflected, not for the first time, how lucky she was to have two doms who so perfectly understood her limits. They knew the difference between a clench of aroused dread and a clench of genuine fear, meekness born of joyful submission, or tension. It was a gift she had no intention of relinquishing, ever.

Lying between Richard and Rob, kissing one then the other while they stroked and massaged every inch of her, she felt the impossibility of ever giving either of them up.

Outside, Tack had chased Celia to the edge of the pool, over the side of which she was now bent, with her bikini bottoms pulled to her knees.

She shrieked and flipped from side to side as Tack smacked at her wet bottom, sending fine spray up into the air with each stroke.

‘Think what you got on set was a real spanking, huh? Think again,’ he said. ‘You’re getting it good now.’

Peregrine watched with a distant smile, sipping intermittently from his cocktail. Emma came out of the pool and joined him on the neighbouring sunlounger, observing proceedings just as keenly.

‘Do you ever get jealous?’ she asked him.

‘Jealous? Why?’

‘All these lovebirds all around. Celia and Tack. Richard and his menage. What happened to Callie?’

‘She and Leo decided they wanted to be exclusive. It’s part of the reason I’m here. Didn’t want to bump into her every three minutes. You know how small a world the London theatre is.’

‘Well, only from the point of view of a person who failed lots of auditions.’

‘I thought you’d make it one day, you know.’

‘Thanks. I know. So did I.’

She sighed.

‘And now, here you are in Hollywood, the perfect place to make a name for yourself, and you can’t even try.’

‘I’ve thought about it. Thought about risking it. But it’s not safe. Not with McKenna and his crew still at large.’

‘It’s a tragedy, Emma. Someone should write it.’

‘Maybe you could.’

‘Maybe I will. It’s not a bad idea, actually. How Emma Frayne’s beautiful bottom ruined her prospects.’

Tack had now removed Celia’s bikini completely and was thrusting into her with a wet slap-slap-slap no less noisy than the spanking.

Emma laughed.

‘I think there’s more to the story than my arse.’

‘I find it quite hard to see past it, personally.’

‘Yeah, well, you’re a pervert.’

‘Guilty. Speaking of perverts, what did Allyson have to say?’

‘Allyson.’

Emma looked shocked for a moment, and pale beneath her compulsory LA golden sheen.