Tasting Pleasure (11 page)

“As it should be,” Maverick whispered into her ear. “Still, the choice is yours. You may represent me, or I could easily send one of my other companions, complete with a take-out dinner of some kind. But somehow, Alicia”—he grasped her ear lobe in his teeth for a quick nip before continuing—“I think you and Paul would suit each other. You will find him far less demanding than Spiro, and you did an exquisite job of pleasing him.”

Alicia melted against him. “As you choose, Sir. Just tell me where I should be, when I should be there, and how you would like me to dress and behave,” Alicia said as she unbuttoned Mr. Devonshire’s shirt, easing it off and trailing kisses along his shoulder.

Maverick laughed quietly. “I’ll let you know the arrangements in the morning. For now”—he grasped her braid—“tell me, were you on time?”

Alicia immediately felt the change of timbre in his voice. Maverick had become Mr. Devonshire and would not tolerate disobedience or hesitation. She felt a tremor of apprehension and excitement as she slid to the floor to her knees once more before him.

“No, Sir,” she began. “I was late. I failed to follow your explicit directions.”

“By how many minutes?”

“Five, Sir,” she admitted truthfully.

“That’s a shame,” he said with a smirk. “I have a special punishment for you. Something I don’t believe you have experienced before. This will hurt, but you can take it, can’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Devonshire,” she immediately answered. “I can take it, if it pleases you.” Already her pussy began to swell and moisten.

“And it will also please you, will it not?” he persisted.

“Yes, Sir, it will,” she admitted.

“Stand.”

She did so.

“Put your hands on your head, elbows out.”

Alicia complied. She stood perfectly still, not even turning her head as Maverick walked behind her to retrieve his trousers. He again stepped in front of her, allowing her to clearly see him reaching into the front left pocket. He removed two wicked-looking clamps, connected to each other by a heavy metal chain.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, holding the device in front of her.

“No,” she answered.

“No?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, Sir,” she quickly amended.

“That’s better. Still, I believe you have just added another thirty seconds onto your time,” he cryptically said. “These, my disobedient companion, are clover clamps. I will attach one cold, tight clamp to each of your lovely, tender nipples. As the weight of the heavy chain pulls the clamps downward, the tightness will increase.” Maverick smiled sardonically before continuing his explanation. “For every movement of the chain, the clamps will respond. The weight of the chain ensures a quick response. Every breath you take will raise your breasts, thus moving the metal. You will feel more and more pressure until you will think your nipples will burst.” Mr. Devonshire rolled a tender bud between his thumb and forefinger, tugging strongly.

Alicia gasped in pain as he placed the cold clamp on her tender flesh. Tears sprang to her eyes when he attached the second clamp.

“Nice,” he commented. “You will keep those in place for an equal amount of time as your tardiness—plus thirty seconds, of course.”

Alicia nodded, fighting back the tears. The pain radiating from her nipples was excruciating. Her legs trembled and she fought to control her breathing. Her breasts had always been sensitive and the addition of the tight clamps attached to the heavy chain was almost unbearable. She prayed she could stand still for the required time, lessening the chance of the clovers tightening even more. She should have known better.

“While I watch the time,” Mr. Devonshire announced, “turn down the bed and prepare yourself for entry.”

A small sound of distress escaped her, but Alicia dropped her arms to turn down the bedclothes.

“Ah…did I say to lower your arms? No, keep them behind your head. You must grasp the necessary items with your teeth, your elbows, your legs. Anything but your hands,” he said smugly.

Alicia stared at him. The pain would be terrible!

“Yes, that will add to your discomfort, and I know it will be a challenge for you, but,” he added sternly, “you will not disappoint me, will you?” He gave the chain a small tug.

Alicia, tears flowing down her face, clenched her teeth against the pain. No, she would not disappoint him, no matter how much it cost her. Bending at the waist, she grasped the coverlet of the bed in her teeth and drew it back. Next she kneeled and, again using her teeth, opened the drawer in her nightstand. Knowing she could not possibly lift Mr. Devonshire’s preferred jar of lubrication with her mouth, she took a deep breath and brought her elbows together over the slick, glass container. With infinite care and terrible torment, she lifted the jar and placed it on the nightstand, nearly dropping it once. Fire radiated from her nipples as the clamps grasped her purpled flesh with a fierce firmness. Crying softly, Alicia climbed onto the bed and assumed a position, arse in the air, forehead down, hands still locked behind her head. There she waited, counting the seconds of her allotted punishment.

She screamed as Mr. Devonshire reached between her thighs and took hold of the heavy chain, but he removed the clamps with care. Despite the horrific sensation from the blood pouring back into her nipples, Alicia felt herself start to tremble as the beginnings of an orgasm formed deep within her body. Mr. Devonshire caressed her hips, soothing her, and his touch caused her to cry out again, this time with longing. She buried her face into the mattress, wanting more. Her body shook with both pain and pleasure as Mr. Devonshire’s warm, soft lips gently sucked her clit.

“That’s it, my little companion,” Mr. Devonshire murmured, raising his head to look at her. “Ride it. You’ve earned it.”

Alicia squirmed as he resumed his licking and kissing then began to stroke and pet the length of her back as well. After several long, blissful moments, the orgasm washed over her, slowly at first then with an increasing crescendo that seemed to go on and on. At last the waves of joy crashed to a close, and he ceased his suckling. Still he continued to massage her back, soothing her senses.

Suddenly she felt the cool, soothing lubrication enter her arse. She closed her eyes, knowing that soon he would enter her. She was pleased that her internal cleansing would pay off. To her surprise, though, instead of his cock, Mr. Devonshire inserted first one, then two, then three fingers into her arse. He worked them in and out, Alicia matching her movements to his. She bolted upright with shock and pleasure as he simultaneously pushed a fourth finger into her arse and his cock into her waiting pussy. Never had she felt such fullness. Maverick shoved her head back onto the bed.

“Don’t make me punish you again,” he commanded.

She tightened her muscles around him, crying out with the glory of encasing him within her body. He reached his other hand to grasp a breast, squeezing her bruised nipple between his fingers. Color exploded in her mind as Alicia screamed her release. Before the fiery prism had dissipated, she cried out again as Mr. Devonshire’s warmth spurted deep within her.

Chapter Seven

Chicken Appetizers

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1 pimento (sweet red) pepper

6 strips bacon

Salt and pepper to taste

Trim chicken breasts and cut them into three strips each. Season the meat to taste, but go easy on the salt. Clean pepper and slice into 6 strips. Place one strip of pepper on top of a strip of chicken. Wrap a slice of bacon around this, forming a tight bundle. Secure with a toothpick or skewer if necessary. Bake in a 400 degree oven about 15 minutes or until bacon is crispy and chicken thoroughly cooked.

Late the next morning, Alicia signed for a package. Excited, she glanced at the return label and saw Maverick’s name and address. She grasped the parcel to her chest, hugged it and ran to the sitting room. Ripping open the card, she scanned the contents.

My darling,

Below you will find the time and directions for your rendezvous with Paul. He will be expecting you. While his ‘tastes’ are similar to mine, you will, naturally, adjust to his needs. Nothing marks a well-trained companion so well as versatility. As to his taste in food—anything goes. He’s used to subsisting on frozen meals or take-out. Prepare an overnight bag in case he requests your presence for an extended time. Wear what you will to his home, but change into the enclosed ensemble when you arrive. You are to follow whatever he desires—his birthday was last weekend, and you are my gift to him.

Mr. Devonshire

Alicia sighed, smiling to herself.
A gift!
She was the gift! How wonderful was that? She purred with anticipation while tearing apart the package.

Oh, my!
Alicia’s eyes widened as she lifted out a sheer, black apron, a black garter belt, fishnet stockings and three and a half inch black patent leather stiletto heels. Running her hand nervously down her braid, she couldn’t help but wonder what Paul’s
tastes
would be.

Two hours later, Alicia arrived at her destination. Struggling to carry in her overnight bag and two sacks of groceries, she finally found the Hide-a-Key and managed to unlock Paul’s door. She quickly located the kitchen and deposited the sacks on a counter, dropping the overnight bag on the floor. Only then did she glance about the house.

She stood in shock, taking in the beauty around her. Mr. Devonshire’s friend was indeed Paul Tenegal. Brilliant colors and astounding textures jumped at her from every direction. Not bothering with canvases in his own home, Mr. Tenegal had simply splayed the paint boldly across the walls and ceiling. Purples, blues, greens swirled to form vibrant, living shapes.

Alicia scanned the length of the hallway and she eventually found the bathroom. Here, the man’s genius shone. The tub itself was a mass of greens and blues, a perfect imitation of a stormy sea. The ceiling was a light blue with white patterns superimposed, creating the illusion of a tumultuous sky. The walls radiated a light green, the gray streaks seeming to move, mirroring rain. Alicia could only shake her head in amazement. If a man could create such beauty with nothing but a brush and paint, what else could his hands do?

Quickly, Alicia changed into the outfit Maverick had provided. Normally she would have waited, first completing her cooking and then changing. But, unsure of when Paul would be home, she thought it best to be prepared for an early arrival. One thing was certain—she would not disappoint Maverick by failing to meet Paul’s needs.

Cooking in stilettos, Alicia found, was a challenge, as she almost turned an ankle while carrying a jug of cream to the counter. Cooking topless, though, was an even more dangerous endeavor. When taking the appetizers—bacon-wrapped chicken breasts—out of the oven, she had almost touched a nipple to the open oven door. Luckily she had pulled back just in time, nearly dropping the tray of food.

With the stuffed pork tenderloin and baby potatoes resting in a warm oven and the salad crisping in the refrigerator, Alicia was placing crackers around a small plate of cheese selections when she heard the front door open.

Unsure of what to do, she continued working, hoping Paul would soon direct her. She bent over the table, adding the bacon-wrapped chicken to the plate, her heavy breasts swinging inches above the appetizers. Fully aware of Paul’s presence, she lifted the plate and walked to him, keeping her eyes down.

“Please, Sir, would you like an appetizer?” she asked.

She watched as short, squared-off fingers selected a piece of cheddar cheese. Silently, she waited before him.

“So,” he began, “you’re my birthday present.”

Alicia felt wetness between her thighs. The timbre of the man’s voice reached inside her, tantalizing her with its sensuality. She remained silent.

“You’ve dressed to please me. I’ve always had a fondness for a woman in stockings, fishnets in particular. And nothing holds more appeal than a set of beautiful, naked breasts. Maverick’s idea, I suppose,” he said.

Again she remained silent. Whether from shyness or fear, she couldn’t seem to find her voice.
Damn!
When would she ever grow a backbone? She hated this chronic coyness and had thought her time with Maverick had given her new confidence. But here she was again, blushing and tongue-tied. This gorgeous man must think her an idiot!

“Look at me,” he quietly directed.

Alicia finally looked up and found herself staring into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. He raised a hand and carelessly swiped at the brown locks that had fallen over his forehead. He placed a finger beneath her chin then ran the tip along her jawline.

“I am familiar with Maverick’s companions—and all of his rules. He has often invited me over for an evening of…play. Honestly, I have enjoyed every moment of those evenings—who wouldn’t?” He laughed and dropped his hand from her face. “You’ll find I’m a bit more low key. There will be no punishments this evening. Serve me as you see fit. Also, my name is Paul,” he added, then popped a piece of cooled chicken into his mouth. “My father is referred to as Mr. Tenegal, not me. Actually, I forbid you to call me Mr. Tenegal. You may instead call me by any name you wish.” He grinned.

Alicia felt a wave a pride as Paul closed his eyes, obviously enjoying the flavor of her cooking.

“My God. I haven’t tasted anything that good since…well…never. Don’t be afraid of me, Alicia,” Paul said with a smile. “Don’t be nervous. You’ll find I’m not hard to please. In truth, if you simply want to serve me the food and engage me in conversation, I will be thrilled. I’m a man who appreciates beauty. Just looking at those lovely breasts—well, I could be happy staring at them all night!”

“Oh no,” Alicia began, “I have my orders. I am to serve you in any way you desire. If I don’t…”

“Shhh.” He placed a finger against her lips. “No matter what happens tonight, I will give your Master a rave review.” He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. “I just wanted you to know, there is no pressure here. Why don’t we just see where the evening takes us?”