To Disappear (19 page)

The warmth of Odette’s hands seeped through the thin cotton of Lydia’s panties, and she drew in a sharp breath when the woman began pulling them down. Odette’s fingers trailed over Lydia’s soft, bare flesh as her rounded bottom was slowly exposed to the heated eyes of the guests.

‘Mmm…’ Odette trailed a slender forefinger into the shadowy valley between Lydia’s plump cushions. ‘No wonder Preston likes you so much. Such a gorgeous bottom is just ripe for all sorts of whips and paddles. Bend over.’

Her blush deepening, Lydia braced herself on a side table and leaned forward, easing her hips back in doing so. She felt Odette’s fingers parting her bottom cheeks, then moving lower to dip into the humid cleft of her sex. A burn of embarrassment flared inside her as Odette remarked upon the degree of moisture already seeping from her inner lips, and she couldn’t suppress a moan as a finger pressed into her quivering channel. Another titter of amusement mingled with arousal passed through the onlookers.

Grateful at least that she didn’t have to face the guests, Lydia crossed her arms on the table and rested her forehead upon them, even though she knew the posture would thrust her bottom further back, parting the folds of her sex to expose her intimate charms. Struggling or protesting would only serve to delay the inevitable, and possibly even provide the audience with more entertainment.

A gasp choked her throat when Odette’s palm slapped her bare bottom, inducing a pleasurable little sting. With a laugh Odette spanked her several times, the strike of her feminine hand infinitely different from Kruin’s iron-like palm. A pinkish warmth coated Lydia’s buttocks by the time Odette stepped away from her.

Lydia felt a tug on the back of her gown, and anxiety clutched at her as she recognized Preston’s touch. With swift movements he began unfastening the many hooks and eyes of her gown. He slipped the sleeves from her arms, letting the heavy silk shimmer to the floor.

Although she was still in her petticoats and corset, Lydia experienced a strange urge to cross her arms over her breasts.

‘Turn around.’

Lydia did, feeling the burn of piercing gazes on her body. Preston unlaced the strings of her petticoats and panniers, removing them so quickly that she wondered about his experience with this kind of complicated costume.

She was soon standing there in her stockings and corset, which had forced her spine into such a stiff, upright posture all evening that her back was sore. She longed for Preston to unlace it so she could breathe freely again, but he didn’t.

Instead he bent to remove her panties and stockings, leaving her naked save for the corset. The sensation of her upper body so tightly bound contrasted sharply with the feeling of being utterly exposed below the waist. Lydia wanted to hide her shaven mons from the lecherous eyes of the guests, all watching her with lust-filled eyes. She blushed hotly, aware of how she must look constrained by the corset with her sex peeping enticingly out from between her thighs.

‘Now then,’ Preston said, ‘since you appear so eager to touch yourself, why don’t you do so now?’

Lydia stared at him in shock. ‘What?’

‘You heard me. Or if you need clarification, I want you to play with your pussy in front of us.’

Lydia couldn’t move for the humiliation that gripped her, her heart beating so furiously she could hear it inside her head like an incessant drumbeat. Her senses were so heightened she could hear the breathing of the people watching her, smell the champagne on Preston’s breath, feel the trickle of perspiration between her shoulder blades.

She tried to take a deep breath, but the constriction of the corset prevented it. A feeling of lightness began to invade her head. She couldn’t bring herself to look at any of the guests, but she experienced a strange compulsion to meet Kruin’s stare.

He was standing in the same spot, his expression unyielding, and oddly enough, the sight of him seemed to lend Lydia a measure of strength. She forced herself to slide her fingers into the succulence of her sex, still wet from her audacious voyeurism and the touch of Odette, evoking a shiver of carnality.

The sensation of lightness intensified as warmth spread through her blood. Lydia pressed the tips of her fingers into her fissure, trailing her thumb over the humid creases. Her body reacted with a shudder of delight. A ripple of murmurs spread over the room.

Her thighs parted. Her awareness of the guests and their response to her erotic display augmented her growing excitement. She pressed the heel of her hand against her pulsing knot and slipped one finger into the pliant opening of her vagina. A gasp emerged unbidden as pleasure began to eclipse her shocked embarrassment.

Her breasts heaved against the binding of her corset. The guests stirred, leaning forward to enhance their view as Lydia’s channel engulfed her slender forefinger. She leaned her hips against the table and began to thrust her finger in and out of her body. It was a poor substitute for her fantasies of the rigid thickness of Gabriel’s cock, which she remembered with a rush of longing. She moaned and pressed her finger even deeper, her eyes closing as her inner muscles tightened hungrily around the digit.

A hand suddenly clamped around her wrist. Lydia’s eyes flew open. She stared at Preston as he forced her hand away from her sex. His eyes were dark with a cocktail of amusement and a glimmer of annoyance.

‘Don’t enjoy yourself too much,’ he murmured, lifting her hand to her mouth in an evident command to suck her own wet fingers. ‘Remember your instructions about climaxing.’

Lydia let out her breath. A wave of dizziness passed over her. She curled her hand around his arm to steady herself as she tasted the salty flavor of her feminine emissions.

For an instant she stared into the blue fire of his eyes, and a strange thrill spiraled inside her at the knowledge of her subjugation to him. She didn’t experience her usual rush of hatred; instead, she felt a deep shiver of awareness of her position and an undiluted fascination with Preston. His power over her suddenly made her want to gratify him.

A slow smile curled his mouth. ‘What do you want?’ he murmured, so low that only she could hear him.

‘I want… whatever you want.’

‘You want to please me?’

Lydia’s head swam as she swayed towards him. She had no idea what to make of her emotions; she only knew she could not deny them. ‘Yes,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘Oh yes.’

Preston stepped away from her and snapped his fingers. ‘Get on your hands and knees facing away from us.’

Lydia forced herself to crouch on the floor, wincing as she felt the slippery folds of her labia part in full exposure. Her palms and knees sank into the plush carpet. Every person in the room stared at her bottom, and a crimson burn of humiliation spread over her flesh as she waited for what seemed like endless moments. Then she felt Preston’s hand stroke over her bottom, and his touch was like a consolation.

‘Our Lydia is hopeless at controlling her climaxes,’ he remarked to the guests. ‘She’s extremely lustful, but she lacks any sense of control over her natural impulses. We’re still working on that, aren’t we, Lydia?’

She couldn’t bring herself to speak, but she nodded, and Preston’s fingers dug into the fleshy cushions as if demonstrating their resilience. Lydia silently prayed that he wouldn’t attempt to manipulate her to an orgasm, but her hopes died when she felt his fingers ease into her spread sex.

She tensed as he began expertly rubbing her engorged clitoris, his fingers caressing the exquisitely sensitive skin around the little button. Stimulation wound through Lydia’s loins immediately, as if her interrupted pleasure had merely been waiting to be sparked back into full force. She buried her hands in the carpet, clutching the woven strands as she fought to stay in control. Spending in front of so many people would be even more humiliating than crouching here on her hands and knees.

But to her utter relief, Preston lifted his hand from her before the urge became too strong to withstand. He gave her buttocks a gentle spank.

‘Now, Lydia, let’s show our guests how you can endure a punishment, shall we?’

Despite her desire to please him, she nearly groaned with dismay. The idea of writhing in pain in front of the strangers was almost worse than the idea of losing control of her pleasure. She twisted her head to try and see what Preston had in mind, but he spanked her again in reprimand.

‘Don’t move. Put your arms behind your back.’

A glimmer of fear sparked inside her, but she obeyed his command and stretched her arms behind her, an action that forced her to lower her breasts to the floor. Her bottom cheeks parted, spreading and exposing her even more explicitly. She closed her eyes, feeling the softness of the carpet against her cheek as she tried to remind herself that she could suffer anything as long as it meant she didn’t have to return to the outside world.

‘Good girl.’ Preston grasped her wrists. He wrapped a cord of rope around her wrists, tying them together and then lashing the rope to her corset laces so she was utterly immobile.

Then he pushed a large soft cushion shaped like a cylinder underneath her belly, providing her with more support. Lydia tried to breathe deeply. Her back and torso ached from the clamp of the corset bones, her nipples chafing against the thick silk. She remembered that Kruin was watching her, and she tried to spread her knees further apart to prove that she was being obedient.

She started in surprise when Preston eased the tip of a cane into her sex.

‘Fuck it, why don’t you?’ he said. ‘Pretend it’s my cock.’

Swallowing a biting retort, Lydia pushed her hips back and began working herself on the cane tip. Her plentiful liquids eased the path of the implement and provided a silky, luscious sensation. She thrust her body back and forth, letting the cane slip in and out of her body until Preston pulled it out completely.

With a chuckle of amusement he stroked the tip around her sex lips before drawing it up to the portal of her anus. Lydia stiffened as he pressed it into the crinkled aperture, earning herself another hard spank, so she forced herself to relax her muscles and allow him to slip the cane past the taut ring.

Humiliation surged when he began easing the cane tip back and forth, and a horrifying tingle of arousal spread clear up her spine to the back of her neck.

A laugh came from one of the male guests. ‘She likes that, from the looks of things.’

‘She’s a strumpet, that’s why,’ Odette remarked. ‘Look at how wet she is.’

Mortification scalded Lydia. She felt Preston slip the cane from her body again, and then he began tapping its length lightly against her vulnerable buttocks to create an oddly pleasant warmth. When she had been sufficiently prepared, the cane whistled ominously through the air before coming down hard across the cleft of her cheeks. For an instant she didn’t feel anything, but then she gasped as pain rose over her bottom. Before she could even process the sensation Preston struck her with the cane again, the feeling wholly different from the lash of the whips he had used before, slower and more intense, as if the pain were rising through her skin and pressing outward.

Lydia clenched her teeth to prevent a cry as he hit her a third time, painting a series of level red lines across her creamy flesh. Then there was a fourth blow that brought tears to her eyes. She dimly thought there was something different about this blow, and it took her a moment to realize it had been delivered by one of the guests.

To her horror she comprehended that the guests were planning to take turns striking her with the cane. Stinging smacks rapped across her bottom with varying degrees of force, some accompanied by masculine grunts of excitement, others by feminine giggles. A burning heat began to lash across her skin as each stroke elicited a straight red welt over her bottom cheeks.

‘Make it even,’ Preston ordered, his words thick with arousal. ‘That’s what she likes, isn’t it, Lydia? Her whole rump burning.’

‘Look at the way she thrusts herself towards me,’ said a husky-voiced man as he struck her with the cane. ‘You’ve taught her well, haven’t you? You have my respect.’

‘Give me a turn,’ demanded another man. ‘How hot she must be.’

‘No, please,’ Lydia gasped, flinching as a particularly painful strike caused her entire body to jerk forward. ‘Please, stop!’

‘Quiet, Lydia,’ Preston commanded. ‘Behave yourself. And relax your buttocks. The tenser you are, the more it will hurt.’

Blow after blow landed on Lydia’s backside in an intermittent, but bitingly hurtful rhythm. The guests were intent upon covering her bottom with an even pattern of welts, and she was soon unable to prevent the cries tearing from her throat, nor the tears that flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

Preston suddenly moved around in front of her, sliding his hands through her disheveled hair as he pressed his lips against hers.

‘Try and relax,’ he whispered hotly. ‘You look so lovely. Breathe deeply, feel the pain heating you from the inside out. It’s so delicious, isn’t it?’

Lydia couldn’t respond, although his intimate attention soothed some of her raw emotions. Pain varnished her pale bottom like ribbons of fire, sensations that were augmented by the increasing tightness of her corset. Her blood burned, flowing through her veins like molten lava, and her skin was seared with the hot flushes of shame and pain.