A Chamber of Delights (17 page)

Then they turned to Sophie who had stood aside, pretending to be shocked.

Melindi hooked her finger. ‘Come on, my pet, take your clothes off. We want to see your ginger pussy.’

Sophie cowered away. ‘Don’t touch me. I’m not stripping in front of you.’

‘You’ll do as you’re told, you naughty girl,’ Melindi smirked, thwacking the whip stock into her hand.

As they moved in on the girl, she tried to flee, but Gael had locked the door. Sophie lashed out at them. Now they dragged her as she fought them and pushed her to the floor before the mirrors.

Sophie struck out so hard it took Gael by surprise. She grabbed the housemaid’s wrists and pinned them to the floor above her head. Then she knelt on the arms, stretching the large breasts inside the flimsy, cotton blouse.

Melindi held the redhead’s legs as she tried to struggle free.

Gael took the edges of the blouse and ripped it open, baring the breasts and belly which were heaving from exertion. In the soft lights of the room, the breasts looked flushed, the large-rimmed nipples dark. Gael could not resist squeezing them to bring milk to the pores and to smear it over the rounds to make them glisten. She imagined that Maximillian would have his fly undone by now and be strumming at his cock. In one hand he would probably have his binoculars focused on the wet nipples of the maid; or perhaps he was gazing at her crotch, anticipating seeing how it strained as she had her jeans pulled down.

On cue, Melindi knelt with her bottom to the mirror. Gael could see her labia pouting out between her tense legs as she unzipped Sophie’s jeans and dragged them off. Flinging them aside, this left the girl naked but for a lacy thong, the little, copper hairs of her pubis peeking from its sides. Melindi pushed the knees apart. She slipped her black hand between the pale pink legs and caressed the thong.

Sophie struggled more, almost too hard for Gael to hold. ‘Get off me, you sluts,’ she cried. ‘I hate you.’

‘Lie still, you wanton creature,’ Melindi laughed as she drew the thong down to reveal the pubic mount. ‘Lie
still, I want to see your quim.’ She ripped the frail material with strong fingers, then turned to Gael, her eyes alight as the ginger-haired crevice of the girl appeared through the slit she’d made.

Gael could see it clearly in the mirror. Melindi widened the slit to show the whole of Sophie’s dark pink purse, pushing through the rent in the pure white of the thong. Melindi then ripped the strings off and pulled the thong away to show the opened cleft. She ran her fingers around the hairy lips and made the redhead squirm.

Now Sophie began to quieten as Melindi caressed her thighs. She lay with her legs forced back, her green eyes closed as Melindi slid a long thumb through her crevice and made her breathe in deeply as she thrust it in her sleeve.

Melindi worked the long thumb slowly, her fingers rubbing at the anal ring as Sophie began to moan, pushing her vulva out to meet each thrust.

Melindi slapped her inner thigh and stood up. ‘Right, that’s enough. I think you’re enjoying this too much, you harlot.’

When Gael released her arms, Sophie sat up straight and grinned as well. ‘My God, that was wicked. You can strip me again like that any time.’

Now it was Gael’s turn. She turned her back to the mirror. She slipped off her blouse, knowing that her breasts were reflected in a mirror opposite. She dropped her slacks and showed her crotchless knickers as she bent to pick her slacks up. When she looked through her legs she glimpsed how wet she was, and how much her swelling labia poked out through the lacy hole.

Wiggling out of the knickers provocatively she let them fall around her ankles. Then she closed her legs as she bent again to pick them up, watching the reflection of her sex tucked tight between her buttocks.

In the equipment room next door, Melindi lay on a padded bench. She spread her legs out widely and began
to lift a bar above her head. With each exertion, her long thighs tensed and the lips of her sex parted.

Sophie stood with her back to the mirrors with her legs wide apart, and touched the floor with the tips of her slender fingers. Her breasts hung heavily, and the copper curls which fringed her sex bushed out towards the man. Then she worked her muscles to make her vulva open.

Gael lay on her back working overhead pedals with her feet. This wound a set of weights up towards the ceiling. When they got to the top, she pedalled to let them down. As she lay with her bottom to the mirror, she could feel the lips of her sex rubbing together, getting warm, becoming very moist. She knew that he would see this close up in his glasses, and it made her even moister. She knew he would see her anus too as she tensed and flexed her thighs.

After a while, they changed around, presenting the man with different views of different-coloured skins and differently developed female parts.

Gael sat down on a rowing machine placed close to the mirror. As she leant forward, she felt her vulva gape and saw in the mirror just what Maximillian would see. On each and every stroke, it gaped a little more. She could plainly see her nubbin, fully erect from the stimulation which came from being watched.

They took a rest, wet with perspiration. It trickled down their breasts and beaded on their bellies. Melindi’s skin was shining. Her thighs were taut, her breasts welling as she stood with her hands on her hips, pushing them out. Gael knelt and put her arms around Melindi’s waist, resting her cheek against the panting belly while she caught her own breath. Then she reached up and took a nipple between her lips, surprised at how salty it tasted as she tugged at it.

She made Melindi lie down on a mat and sat astride her, her hands massaging the black skin, cupping the
large breasts and running her palms up the neck. The insides of Gael’s thighs were slick with perspiration, and as she rocked on Melindi’s pubic bone, her skin slid along with the lubrication.

Sophie stood at the mirror, so close that she almost touched it with her nipples. She set her legs apart and worked at her breasts, rubbing them on the glass. Then she slipped a hand between her legs and rubbed herself in small circles, her eyes closed as her legs began to quiver.

‘You wicked, wicked girl,’ Melindi snapped, getting up. ‘Stop frigging yourself this instant.’ The whip cracked on the redhead’s thigh and made her yelp.

They made her turn and bend to touch her toes, and Melindi lay the whip across her buttocks hard enough to bring colour to the pale pink skin, but not too hard to hurt her.

The reflection in the mirror showed a female with her legs apart, her sex lips pulsing from the whipping.

Gael trembled at the sight, recalling how Flanders had whipped her at the lakeside. She sank to her knees and put her lips to Sophie’s vulva, sensing its warmth with her tongue, drawing the scent of it deep into her lungs. Then she turned to the mirror and peered at it hard. She pretended to see something in the glass. Rising, she went quickly from the room. Following directions she’d been given, she found the office quickly. Inside it was quite dark, but one wall glowed with light from the exercise room next door. Silhouetted before the one-way glass, Maximillian stood, his tracksuit bottoms down, his penis in one hand. Silhouetted against the light, it gave Gael quite a thrill. She wanted it already.

Gael crept in and slipped her hand around his waist. He tensed, clearly having heard her come. Her fingers touched his penis. They slid right up its length until they reached the glans and stroked the web. He sighed.

Through the one-way mirror, Gael watched Melindi do a cartwheel, her breasts fluid and mobile. She tumbled like an acrobat, her belly tightening as she came over and stopped before the mirror. Her legs were widely spread now, her feet flat on the floor and her thighs straining tightly. Her belly and her breasts were stretched with tension, their nipples pointing at the ceiling.

Sophie knelt between her legs. She ran her tongue up the straining thighs to the sinews of her groin and tickled Melindi’s clitoris with the tip of her wet tongue.

The penis in Gael’s hand surged as the voyeur thrust it towards Melindi.

Gael pulled his tracksuit up and, pulling him by the ear, dragged him into the other room.

‘Look, girls. Look who I found watching us work out. He was gawping through this one-way glass. What shall we do with him?’

‘Take his trousers down and spank him hard,’ Sophie said, parading haughtily around the crestfallen man.

‘Take his trousers down and whip him,’ growled Melindi.

He rolled his eyes. ‘No, please. Please, ladies, don’t whip me. I’m sorry if I . . .’

Melindi gagged him deftly with a silken scarf to cut his protest.

‘And woe betide him if he swells,’ Gael added, recalling vividly how she had ‘cured’ the swelling of the man the night before. He shook his head and Gael could feel him trembling, but she saw how much he was aroused.

Melindi touched between his legs with the hard stock of the whip. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got in there, mister. I hope it’s big enough to be worthwhile.’

His eyes were wide, glancing from Gael to Melindi and back again.

Sophie put her hand inside his trousers. ‘I don’t think you’ll be disappointed, Mel. It feels worthwhile to me.’
She slipped his tracksuit down his thighs and pulled his penis out.

He dragged his trousers up again and held them tightly.

Melindi stripped them down again. Maximillian was naked a few seconds after that. Gael was surprised at how big he was. She’d only seen him in the darkness of the confessional. His rigid penis erupted from a mass of silky hair. His balls were tight up in his scrotum. Her hands twitched as she recalled how she had cupped them as he’d spurted, and now she wanted to hold them once again. But that wasn’t the game.

‘Bend over this bench, you wicked boy,’ she hissed. ‘I want to see your bottom.’

It was a tight, trim bottom, tanned as darkly as the rest of him, that nutty brown bestowed by a tropical sun. She ran her hand over it slowly, feeling the smooth contours, trailing her fingertips up and down the insides of his thighs. Delving between his legs she cupped his balls. They were larger than she recalled, even larger than the gardener’s. They contracted as she stroked them and parted them with a finger.

Melindi pushed Gael aside and lay a couple of lashes on the buttocks. ‘Don’t play with him, Gael. You’ll give him pleasure. He needs a good hiding for his sins.’ He moaned, Gael thought, with pleasure.

Melindi lashed him harder.

He moaned again.

She sent the tails of the whip flicking through his legs, more to tickle than to sting him. It had the right effect. His penis curved up stiffer.

The chastisement went on for some minutes, each girl taking a turn, delighting in the way the man trembled with the lashes. They tried to make him stiffer still, each one of them knowing how much better a really rigid cock felt.

They turned him and lay him on a padded bench, his
arms tied above his head by Gael while Sophie sat astride his chest facing his feet and pulled his legs right back. With his knees beside her breasts, his inner thighs were taut, his genitals exposed to Melindi’s gaze. The penis curved towards Sophie, standing stiffly from his body, his testicles tight as Melindi brushed them with the whip tails. She stood with her legs apart, her dark eyes flashing with excitement.

He shuddered as he felt the leather thongs.

She brushed again, a feather-light touch which made him writhe, but Sophie held him down. She held him open to Melindi’s ministrations, riding on his heaving chest, her vulva moist and sucking on his skin.

Gael stood astride him, her knees against his armpits as she looked down on him. All he could see as he looked up was her sex as she worked her finger on her clitoris and made it hard.

Now Melindi lay some lashes on his anus, just hard enough to make it contract but not enough to hurt him. She whipped the taut thighs a good bit harder. Then she took the whip stock and eased it into him. He groaned and twisted but they had him fast, each one of them delighting in her conquest of the man.

Melindi knelt then worked the whip stock very slowly in his ring. She licked a long finger and drew it from his cherry to his balls. Lightly, she drew it again and again, stretching the foreskin tight, making the glans swell even larger. With every teasing stroke she pushed the whip stock deeper, as if she had a phallus embedded in the man. She began to work her body slowly back and forth. And as she worked, Sophie stroked his web.

Gael stood astride his face and watched herself in a mirror. Slowly, she spread her feet so that her open sex came closer to his mouth. She slid the gag aside and made a gesture to him to keep quiet. Then she lowered herself just a little bit more so that when he put his tongue out, he could run it lightly through her gaping furrow.

She trembled as he licked her and rocked slowly over him to increase her pleasure. Now she came down on his nose, rubbing herself against it as his tongue delved deeper, his breath upon her anus.

She came in little waves of delight which seemed to run up and down her spine. And while her contractions lasted, she rested on him gently, allowing him to suck upon her nub.

Now she had had her pleasure, she changed places with Sophie, and took up the task of further stimulation. She stroked the insides of his thighs with the very tips of her fingers, and worked his foreskin very slowly, back and forth.

Melindi worked him slowly with the whip stock, clearly delighting in the way the leather rubbed her vulva.

He spurted without warning.

His penis stiffened and rose so that it shot the first spurt over Gael’s belly to run into her navel. The second flush was caught by Melindi’s pink-palmed hands. She took it to her breasts, giving them a shine as deep as polished ebony.

Sophie, watching as he pumped and spilled his seed, caressed the underside of his shaft, keeping the contractions going for some seconds.

All the time, he moaned and moved his head.

Then they tied him to the bench and left him while they went to the jacuzzi. They sipped at pink champagne and ate black grapes. Gael sat opposite the other girls, grinning as she sipped her drink, one foot between each of their legs. She flexed her toes, delighting in the mobile softness of their labia in the warmness of the water, while their feet massaged her breasts, plucking her nipples between their toes.