A Chamber of Delights (25 page)

She kissed the tip and licked its little hole. He trembled slightly. Now she simply took the whole of it into her mouth, warming it, pressing it with her tongue, sucking it very slightly. It grew gradually, becoming thicker and longer as the seconds passed. Now it was at the back of her throat. Running her lips over the glans, she pushed the foreskin down, which made it stiffen faster.

With her forehead against his lower belly, Gael kept the penis in her mouth. His belly rose and fell with his breathing. It was so peaceful, so free of tension.

As his cock grew stiffer, she realised that she was making love to him. She was being tender and caring instead of taking him wildly as she had intended. But she’d had some really wild sex in the past days and it was perhaps time to relax. She certainly had to take advantage of having Flanders tied. There was no way he would be fool enough to let her catch him out again. But as she lay there with the limp penis stiffening so that
she could thrust it between her legs, she wondered what the next few days would bring. Would he be angry and storm off? Would he strengthen his resolve to have her in any way he wanted, at any time and place? A thrill went through her at the thought. She knew that that was really what set her alight. The fight and the eventual submission would set her labia pulsing and drive that tension in her belly to an almost unbearable level of need before she climaxed.

Although he was stiff enough now for her to take him into herself, his lack of participation had robbed her of the fun of it. Watching Jannine having him had been amusing. Knowing that he was helpless to stop his cock rising and spurting had been exhilarating. But now the fun had ebbed away.

She lifted his cock and sank down on it until the tip just nosed between her labia.

He sighed and began to whisper, and as she rose and stretched her cunt, he felt her yank his cock up. Then he felt her heat as she sucked it in. She moaned as she felt his knob ripple up inside her.’

Gael slapped his belly to stop his commentary, putting into words what she was feeling. ‘Shut up, Flanders,’ she hissed. ‘I want to do this without any input from you.’

He laughed, the sheet billowing around his face. ‘What do you think you’ve got in your cunt but “input” from me?’

She ignored him. That feeling of being opened out as a thick, hard cock burrowed through her labia never ceased to make her thrill.

‘And then she felt his bollocks, rasping at her bottom,’ he whispered. ‘And the lips of her quim sucked his prick.’

She punched him hard and made him wince, but he laughed again.

‘And then she got angry,’ he rasped, ‘and she began
to pound up and down on his dick, willing it to come so she could feel his spunk shoot inside her.’

She punched him again. The repartee was adding that tension into the affair which had been missing. It had been too cold and calculated before. Now he was goading her again and stirring up her anger. She realised that she needed to compete with him and she needed him to fight back. Having him helpless and at her mercy had not been enough. She brought her knees up to the bench. As she rose and fell, she looked down through her crotch to see what the spotlight showed. She couldn’t see the mouth of her sex, but she could feel it widely stretched as the long shaft of the gardener slipped between its lips. Each time she engulfed it, the black, curly hair of her mons blended with his golden hair. She rode him hard, feeling his hair rasping at her nub and his scrotum tickling at her bottom.

She turned to face his feet and shone the torch between her legs. As she sank on him, she watched his balls. Their sac tightened as she put her pressure on his cock, squeezing it as hard as she could, feeling the head right inside her body. The testicles welled out then disappeared between her thighs. She strained herself open, trying to take them in but she was not as big as Jannine.

Gael had to be content with feeling his scrotum against her clitoris as she took the slack skin between her fingers and rubbed her nubbin gently with it. Then she spread the cheeks of her bottom with her fingers and rubbed her anus on his pubic mat. This sent trickles of excitement up into her body.

‘She was a slut,’ he whispered, ‘in the way she made her cunt lips gobble at his prick. She moaned as she rubbed her arsehole on his hairs.’

She slapped his legs but it didn’t stop his commentary.

‘Her cunt,’ he said softly – even romantically, ‘was
throbbing from the sensation of having a real man’s horn at last. She begged him to fuck her like no other man had done.’

She hit at his side with her fist. ‘Shut up, you.’

‘And you shut up, you slut,’ he laughed. ‘Shut your quim and squeeze my cock.’ Then he said in a treble voice, ‘Oh, darling, that’s absolutely marvellous.’

Despite his taunting, Gael’s passion was rising. She would not be put off. As she sprang and plunged, his cockshaft was as huge as she’d ever seen it.

She turned and faced his head, even though she could not see it under the cloth. Now she sprang in little motions, imitating the short strokes of a masturbating man.

He began to pant. He strained his hips in an effort to make himself spurt. But Gael had become too intent on her rising orgasm to pay any heed to him.

His breath rasped as he whispered, ‘And as she squeezed him with her quim, he came in a fountain of hot, thick spunk which filled her first then trickled down her legs.’

As she felt his semen pumping she screamed and beat his chest. ‘You bastard! You lousy, rotten bastard. Don’t you dare go soft before I’ve finished.’

He juddered under her as his penis pumped. She felt the heat of his ejaculation filling her, just as he’d described it. Then she felt his semen trickle down her thigh.

Now she rode him hard and he cried out with every thrust, but she didn’t care. She needed to come. She couldn’t stand her tension any longer. But he lost his erection and she had nothing to push down on.

As he slipped out of her, he sighed. ‘That was very nice. Thankee kindly, miss.’

She worked herself over the limp penis but it didn’t make her climax. ‘Damn,’ she swore loudly. ‘Damn you to hell, Flanders.’

She sank forward on his chest, her energy spent, even though her tension had not broken. With his ribcage undulating beneath her breasts, she let her body ride. He was so warm, and, despite her anger at him, she still wanted him. But she was tired of the sparring. She wanted him to come into her room, strip her naked and lie beside her, his stiff cock hot against her leg. Then he would take her mouth with his. She would feel his hand between her legs as he kissed her passionately. He would coax her nubbin into life as she spread her legs for him, and make her pussy moist. Then he would roll over her and take her strongly. She would wind her legs around his hips and let him plunge down into her while she squeezed him. And she would come quickly with wonderful surges of energy, heating him with her fluids, making him shoot his hot, thick jism deep into her body.

Gael shook herself out of the fantasy. There was no way he would ever behave like that.

She stood beside the bench, the spotlight showing the disembodied cock. She drew the velvet sheet off him and unshackled his hands.

He lay grinning up at her, his eyes triumphant as he whispered, ‘When can we do this again, miss?’

Clearly he thought he’d bested her. He was magnificent stretched out naked. She wanted to kiss him all over, but she was too tired.

‘Here’s the key,’ she croaked, throwing it at his feet. ‘You can undo the shackles on your ankles. I’m going up to take a shower.’

THE NEXT DAYS
sped by. Gael had parties to arrange. She spent hours on the phone talking to caterers, wine merchants and dressmakers. But now she had her last fantasy from the first party to fulfil. The man was scheduled for the next day. His fantasy of having three women at a time, in a way that he had specified very particularly, had not been too difficult to arrange. Fiona would be there supported by two young models; a voracious creature called Celine and a platinum blonde called Mandy.

Gael had decided not to include Sophie. The housemaid had been too petulant since the incident with Flanders in the chamber. She had seen Gael emerging from the basement and had scowled. When Flanders had followed, completely naked, she had fumed and hit him hard. Now she was hardly speaking to Gael as they went about their business. But Gael had noticed that the girl was still not freezing Flanders out. She’d caught them both in a tête-a-tête. They had looked amused when they’d seen her and she was sure that Flanders was planning some revenge for the way that Gael had used him. The challenge was still on since neither of them had called a truce.

Gael took her mind off the gardener and the maid. There was the fantasy to see to on the morrow. They
would take the man to the chamber. The three participants had their own needs too and Gael had made a promise that as soon as they had fulfilled the man’s desires, they might indulge themselves.

Gael sat back in the study chair, her finger tucked between the legs of her jeans. She still had a need to climax properly. Her dildo hadn’t been enough. As she moved the finger, she thought about the chamber. There were several things she still hadn’t tried, particularly the infamous ‘Maiden’. She hadn’t plucked up courage for that yet. Perhaps she would give it a go that evening, when the servants had gone.

Sophie stood in the doorway and snapped out, ‘There’s a van outside.’ Then she turned on her heels and went back to the kitchen.

Gael went quickly to the stable yard. Two men in aprons were unloading a large, ornately carved armchair she’d bought. They carried it to the basement under Gael’s strict supervision, and set it down outside the chamber. She tipped them heavily then dragged the chair into the chamber herself. With a spotlight on, it looked like a throne.

As she turned, Gael looked at a wooden box with a very thick glass lid. As large as a coffin, it was painted black inside and out. With the light shining from above, she couldn’t see into it at all. She lifted the lid to find a black mattress in the bottom. She had puzzled over this box since she had first seen it, but still hadn’t decided what it might be used for.

Gael shivered as she glanced at another black box – the Maiden. Named after an infamous instrument of torture, this particular Maiden had been specially designed to give the occupant the most exquisite sexual stimulation. Melindi had said it was the best device she had, but not for the faint-hearted.

Later, when Sophie was just about to leave, Gael went down to the basement again. Flanders had usually
left by this time, so she judged that she was alone in the house. The answerphone was on.

The chamber was in darkness. Gael put on one spotlight over the Maiden and gingerly lifted the lid to peer inside.

The original Maiden torture device had been a box like this, but full of sharp metal spikes. When the victim was forced inside, the spikes in the lid and back skewered him. Nobody ever survived.

In this particular Maiden, the spikes were made of rubber. They were floppy like the fingers of a glove and the points were well rounded. In the bottom they looked like a bed of nails. Then there were larger rubber protuberances at various points. When Gael switched a switch, a motor whirred somewhere underneath. She took hold of a remote control with explicit diagrams, then dropped her kimono to the floor and stood naked, trying to pluck up courage to get in. Eventually she eased herself down gradually in the way she would enter a very hot bath. The rubber protuberances lay flat beneath her weight. So far, so good.

She closed the lid.

The protrusions on the lid hardly touched her body. Some pressed at her back but not too hard. There were none about her face; only from her shoulders down to her shins.

Now she was in pitch blackness. She couldn’t hear a sound. She took a deep breath and pressed a button on the remote control.

Now the bottom and the lid began to expand like an inflatable dinghy blowing up. The protuberances inflated too. They pressed into her back. Those in the lid bore down on her, all over. She stopped the inflation when the pressure was just a little more than comfortable. Then with bated breath she pressed another button. The protuberances began to vibrate. The ones around her breasts worked in little circles, titillating her
delightfully. Those between her legs seemed to move to and fro, sweeping up the insides of her thighs. Those over her belly pressed down hard, pushing into her navel and the tense flesh just above her mons.

When she pressed the next button, the rubber fingers began to work in waves which travelled up and down her body. God, it was nice. The ones underneath massaged at her bottom, working between its cheeks. Those on top worked her torso. When she pressed the final button, she juddered with the sensation which that brought her.

A large protrusion grew between her legs, pushing them apart. As she widened them and pushed down, it vibrated delightfully between the open lips of her vulva. There seemed to be a small finger which trembled near her anus. She moved to press her anal ring against it.

Now the whole of her body vibrated slowly, not an inch of her torso untouched. She pumped the rubber fingers harder so they pressed into her flesh. ‘My God, that’s so incredible,’ she whispered to herself. Already she was almost on the brink of climax. Immersed in a sea of sensation, she cried out, ‘Yes, oh yes. Eat your heart out, Flanders. I won’t need your prick any more.’

‘I think you might, miss.’

Gael was so lost in the tingling sensations she didn’t register that the motor had been switched off. It was the bright light which made her open her eyes. Flanders grinned down on her. Then he bent and lifted her out. ‘I think you’ll be screaming for me in a little while, miss,’ he whispered in her ear.

She beat at his chest. ‘Let me go, you moron.’ She struggled but he was too strong for her. Then she felt herself falling. He put her down on something soft. In the darkness she saw the reflection of the spotlight as he shut the glass lid and fastened it. He’d put her in that other box. She pushed at the lid, but it didn’t give. She hammered on the sides but couldn’t escape. When the
light went out, she nearly panicked. The bastard was going to leave her. Was he teaching her a lesson for shackling him and leaving him in the dark? But what on earth could he do with her shut up in a glass case?