Black Orchid (18 page)

Antony frowned slightly as he turned back to her.

'Now, that's no good, darling, is it?' he chided gently as she
stubbornly kept her thighs together.

'I . . . I feel stupid!' she confessed, hot colour suffusing her
cheeks.

It was all so clinical, somehow, so . . . cold.

'Think of me as your doctor,' Antony suggested, inadvertently
making her feel worse, 'I have seen it all before, you
know! Come on – open up for me.'

Reluctantly, Maggie parted her thighs, presenting herself to
him. She was rewarded by his smile.

'That's better. Wider now – put one foot up, on the back of
the sofa and rest the other on the floor.'

Maggie obliged, feeling horribly exposed as he picked up
the scissors. She closed her eyes as he began to snip, pulling
her hair between the first two fingers of one hand and trimming,
as a hairdresser would.

'Try to relax, darling. I'm really rather good at this!' He
stopped cutting and began to work up a lather with the soap.
Maggie had to admit, he seemed to know what he was doing
as he worked up a lather in her foreshortened curls. He avoided
touching her vulva, concentrating instead on the more densely
covered mound of Venus.

She flinched at the first touch of the cold metal of the razor
against her skin.

'Hold still!' Antony commanded impatiently, 'I don't want
to nick you.'

Maggie hardly dared to breathe as he carefully denuded
her of pubic hair. After each scrape of the razor, he cleaned
it in the water and ran his fingertip across the naked skin,
testing the result. After a few minutes, he rose and went to
change the water.

Stealing a glance down at herself while he was out of the
room, Maggie saw the pink, tender skin of her mound,
denuded now of its protective carpet of hair. It looked strange,
curiously vulnerable. She bit her lips nervously as Antony
returned.

'Now for the best part!' he said, his voice floating like silk
across her raw nerves.

Maggie held her breath as he carefully parted the outer
labia. There was a small frown of concentration between his
brows as he systematically lathered the sparse hair, working
the creamy substance into her shrinking skin. The razor felt
cold as it rasped over her tender skin.

Her exposed vulva felt unprotected as the edge of the blade
moved slowly along its edge. She breathed a long, jagged sigh
of relief as Antony laid aside his equipment.

'Lovely,' he murmured, continuing in a more businesslike
tone, 'go and use the bathroom now, before I oil you.'

Maggie rose obediently and went to do as she was bid. Once
she had finished, she paused to study herself in the floor to
ceiling mirror tiles. Where before there had been a perfect
triangle of tangled curls at the apex of her thighs, now there
was only pink, tender skin. The crease in the centre was clearly
visible, barely concealing the hood of her clitoris which peeked
through.

Slowly, Maggie shifted her feet apart a few inches. Her labia
hung down a little below the protective outer lips, her most
private, inner flesh exposed. If she bent the knees, oh so slightly,
and tilted her pelvis forward, the entrance to her womb came
into view, dark and inviting, shockingly accessible.

She jumped as Antony called her, squeezing her thighs
tightly together as she went back into the living room.

Back in position on the couch, Maggie gave herself up to
sensation as Antony began to anoint her freshly-shaved pubis
with heavy, fragrant oil. She sighed as he worked his way down
to her vulva, feeling her lips open and swell, anticipating his
touch. Smiling to herself, she reflected that the slippery folds of
her labia had not needed to be depilated, yet Antony seemed to
be concentrating his attention there.

Gradually, her skin grew warm and slick, her own musky
fluids mixing with the aromatic oil. Her legs felt heavy,
weighted, as he described a circle around her awakened bud.
It quivered, anticipating his touch on its hard tip. When he did
touch her there, Maggie knew it would be seconds before she
came.

She groaned, her eyes flying open in dismay as he suddenly
stopped. He smiled regretfully at her as he dried his fingers on
a towel.

'Not yet, my darling,' he told her. 'Not for a long while yet.'

'But—'

'Hush! Lie still now while I fit your restraint.'

The blood rushed in Maggie's ears as he reached down, under
the table, into a box she hadn't noticed before. He seemed to
consider for a moment, before selecting from its contents. The
contraption he withdrew made her gasp.

'This should be about right. Will you stand up please?'

He gave her his hand and helped her to her feet. She stood
before him, dazed as he fastened a thin black leather strap,
hung with metal rings, around her waist. He smiled up at her
almost whimsically as he clipped something onto the ring at
the front of the belt. Another leather strap, but this time it was
attached at the other end to a small mesh pouch, similar in
shape to a cricketer's box.

Maggie's eyes widened as he held it up for her to see. The
flexible frame was covered in soft rubber which clung to the skin
of her groin as Antony eased it into position. Another leather
strap hung from the bottom point of the inverted triangle and
this was passed between her legs, fitting snugly across her perineum
and along the deep cleft between her buttocks.

Once this was fastened to a metal ring at the back of the
waistbelt, Maggie's sex was completely confined.

'What on earth is this in aid of?' she demanded, wriggling
ineffectually against the straps.

'The pursuance of your better nature, Maggie,' he replied
infuriatingly.

He hadn't finished yet. Maggie watched, appalled as he
strapped two wide leather bands around her wrists, her mouth
opening in shock as he linked them together behind her
back.

'Antony—'

'Quiet. Have patience.'

He gave her out-thrust nipples a playful tweak and, in spite
of her growing unease, Maggie felt an answering pulse throb
between her legs. The next strap was fastened to the same ring
by her navel which held the chastity belt in place. Only this
had two wide banded circles of leather attached which slipped
over her breasts like a brassiere and fastened at her back and
in a halter round her neck.

Antony ran his finger lightly underneath the straps which
outlined her breasts and tightened them slightly, from behind,
so that the two firm white globes were squeezed slightly.

'Is that comfortable?'

His warm breath tickled her ear as he murmured into it from
behind. Maggie's throat and mouth felt dry as she whispered,

'Yes.'

No sooner had she spoken than Antony tightened the breast
restraints, pushing them closer together and squeezing them
forward.

'And now?'

'Th-that's a little uncomfortable, Antony – oh!'

He pulled tighter so that now her breasts were held in
tension, on the brink of pain. Maggie bit down on her lower
lip and concentrated on not letting the tears which had sprung
to her eyes to overflow.

'Now, let's have a look at you.'

Antony stood back to admire his handiwork, his eyes
lingering on the distorted outline of her breasts. Stepping
forward, he rolled her nipples between finger and thumb until
they stood out, two hard, treacherous little pebbles.

'That's better. But we mustn't forget the shoes – Antony
brought them especially for you. Wait there.'

He disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a
shoe box. Inside were the highest heels Maggie had ever seen.
Antony helped her step into them, steadying her by a hand at
her elbow as she teetered wildly in them.

'Come see yourself,' he pushed her gently towards the
bedroom. He had left the bedroom door open and Maggie
could see herself, as she walked, in the mirrored doors of
the wardrobe. She hardly recognised herself as the trussed,
wild-eyed creature who swayed seductively in the impossibly
high heels.

'Beautiful. Alexander will be pleased. Over here, on the bed.'

Maggie did as she was told, partly because she did not
know what else to do and partly because, she had to admit,
she was intrigued as to what would happen next. She sat,
compliant, as Antony brushed out her long, thick, dark hair,
arranging it about her shoulders like a glossy cloak. He
brushed it until it shone, then he smoothed it back from her
neck and kissed her.

His fingertips played, featherlight, down one side of her neck
as his lips caressed the other. Maggie closed her eyes as he
stroked the tender skin at her throat. She moaned softly as she
felt the kiss of fur against it and realised that he had slipped
a lined leather strap around her neck.

A feeling of inevitability overtook her as a chain was clipped
to the back of the necklet and she was fastened by it to the
tall, ornate bedpost. The chain was long enough for her to lay
her head down on the pillows, but not for her to get up from
the bed.

Antony was winding a black silk scarf into a blindfold. He
kissed both her eyelids before trying it firmly round her head.
Maggie struggled to see even a chink of light and little tremors
of panic fluttered in her stomach.

'Don't worry – I'll not be far away. I'll bring you lunch,
later.'

Antony kissed her lingeringly, lovingly, on the lips. Then he
left her. Maggie sat rigidly, trying to penetrate the sudden still
silence. She was glad the room was warm, but wished Antony
had stayed with her, or at least left a radio on. She had never
felt so utterly alone.

Easing herself gingerly down the bed, she lay her head on
the soft pillows and prepared to wait for Alexander.

Alexander didn't come. Maggie dozed lightly, waking with a
start as Antony touched her shoulder. He removed the blindfold,
but did not untie her hands, instead he fed her, bite-sized
pieces of tender steak au poivre, crisp, green salad, doused in
heavy, fragrant oil.

She sipped at the full-bodied red wine with Antony patiently
dabbing at her chin as it overflowed. When she had finished,
he carried her, still bound, to the bathroom where he unclipped
the snug-fitting box so that she could relieve herself.

Maggie felt a blush stain her cheeks as she perched on the
lavatory, conscious of Antony's persistent presence. When she
had finished, he washed her with a warm, soft flannel and
made her bend her legs apart so that he could massage in some
more of the perfumed oil.

As before, he teased and tantalised her until her flesh was
slick with moisture, her limbs suffused with heat. Then with
a quick, regretful flick at her yearning bud, he quickly strapped
the device back on and carried her back to the bedroom.

In all this time, Antony had barely said a word to her, except
to ask her to move this way or that. When he left her again,
Maggie could have wept for loneliness. At least he hadn't re-tied
the black silk scarf around her eyes, but her arms were tired
from being held in the same position, behind her back. And the
moist, tender flesh of her sex pulsed and throbbed, aching for
fulfillment.

She lost track of time, dozing lightly every so often. Something
about the quality of the silence told her that night had fallen
and still she was alone. They weren't going to sleep with her
then, not tonight.

Maggie imagined Antony and Alexander together in the big
bed in the flat downstairs. Had they forgotten all about her?
She had anticipated humiliation, maybe even pain, but this
isolation was far, far worse. At least when Alex was using her
she had his full attention. Tears of self-pity welled in her eyes
and seeped out from the corners, running down the sides of
her nose and into her mouth. At last, she slept.

At the breakfast time, she pleaded with Antony to release
her hands.

'Please – just while I eat breakfast, while you're here! It's
not as if I could do anything while you're watching me!'

He had ignored her questions about his whereabouts last
night and he ignored this outburst too. Patiently, he spooned
warm, creamy porridge between her stubbornly resisting lips
and helped her wash it down with strong coffee. Once again,
he carried her to the bathroom and washed and oiled her,
making sure she was teetering on the brink of orgasm before
he strapped her back up.

'This isn't fun any more!' she complained in a small voice
as he laid her back down on the bed.

His lips brushed briefly across the top of her forehead.

'It isn't supposed to be fun,' he murmured softly.

Maggie heard his footsteps reach the door, then it closed
behind him with a click. She couldn't bear it. Her arms and
legs began to tremble, her restrained breasts quivering with
emotion.

'Antony! Antony come back!'

She waited, listening for the sound of his footsteps returning.
When he had not responded after several minutes, a red mist
of impotent fury overcame her and she began to yell, 'Let me
out of here! Antony! Alexander! You miserable bastards – come
back here now!'

Incredibly, the door opened and Antony reappeared. He was
carrying a suitcase and didn't so much as glance in her direction
as he marched over to the wardrobe and began stuffing
her clothes in it.

Maggie watched with increasing dismay as her suits and
blouses, her skirts and jumpers were all shoved carelessly into
the case.

'What are you doing?' she asked in a small voice.

Antony paused and flicked her a cold glance.

'You wanted to leave.'

'No! No, I just don't like this . . .'

'So you don't want to play any more?' Antony sneered. 'Are
you going to take your ball home, then? Grow up, Maggie – this
is an adults' game. Either you play by the rules or you leave,
right now. What is it to be?'

Maggie stared back at him with wide eyes, feeling foolish.

'I'll stay here,' she whispered.

Antony regarded her intently for a few moments, then he
nodded once, satisfied.

'Good,' he said curtly.

Maggie watched as he re-hung her clothes and left without so
much as another glance in her direction. When he had gone, she
crawled underneath the duvet and curled herself into a ball.

She must have fallen asleep for she was woken by the sound
of voices in the next room. Scrabbling up clumsily, onto her
knees, she strained her ears, listening. It was Alexander . . . and
Antony and a woman. The door opened and her suspicions
were confirmed.

'Oh!'

The woman seemed to pause in the doorway, obviously
having just seen Maggie trussed in the corner.

'It's all right, Camilla. Maggie is being taught how to please
me,' said Alex.

The woman giggled.

'She must be very stubborn!'

Antony strode across the room and, without a word, he lifted
Maggie and took her through to the bathroom where he
performed the usual ritual of washing and anointing her. He
traced the tracks of her tears with the pad of his thumb and
tutted. The warm flannel was wiped gently across her face.
Then she was carried back to the bedroom.

This time, though, she felt, not the familiar duvet under her
bare buttocks, but the cold, hard surface of the sturdy modern
dressing table. Antony looped the chain over the back of the
mirror.

Alexander's unsmiling face swam into view. He was admiring
the straps which criss-crossed her body, emphasising her
breasts and shielding, though not fully concealing, her sex.

'Beautiful,' he announced. 'Maggie, you are a sight to
behold.'

Taking her chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger,
he forced back his head and covered her mouth with his.
Despite her discomfiture, the kiss melted her insides, making
her arms strain against their bonds as they tried to respond
to her instinct to hold him. She opened her eyes as he pulled
away, opening her mouth with his thumb and caressing the
soft, wet skin inside her lower lip.

His other hand closed over one straining breast and squeezed
and kneaded, tweaking her nipple into hardness before
affording its twin the same treatment. She moaned softly as
his hand roamed the soft, undulating curves of her stomach
and hips before coming to rest on the mesh box which covered
her sex.

Suddenly he stepped away.

'Very good,' he said coolly, totally unaffected, it seemed, by
touching her.

Maggie watched with dismay as he turned his back on her
and went over to the bed where Antony and Camilla were
slowly undressing each other.

'Alex – Alexander please! Untie me. Don't leave me like
this . . .'

She trailed off as he flashed her an irritated glance.

'Shut her up, Antony.'

He turned to Camilla and took her in his arms, kissing her
passionately. Antony stood up and walked over to her, dressed
only in his underpants. Without a word, he picked up the silk
scarf which had been tied round her eyes in the beginning.
Maggie shrank away, afraid that he was about to blindfold her
again. She gasped as she saw that his intention was far
worse.

Tears sprang to her eyes as her lips were pushed back against
her teeth and she tasted the silk, still salty from old tears.
Antony smiled coldly at her, and she knew that, despite all his
reasonable words, he was jealous of her. She stared after him
as he went to join the couple on the bed.

Surely they weren't going to make her watch them make
love to this woman? Touch her, kiss her, taste her as they had
her so many times? It was horrible, more demeaning than any
spanking or physical punishment could have been. To not even
be able to touch herself as she watched . . .

It was then the realisation dawned on her. Of course, Alexander
meant to punish her for taking her pleasure without his
permission. This was his way of teaching her self-restraint – by
forcibly keeping her chaste!

Maggie bit down on the gag. Already her sex-lips were
swelling, yearning for a human touch. She tried to avert her
eyes from the three naked bodies which writhed on the bed
in front of her, but everywhere she looked there were mirrors,
reflecting them back many times over.

'Open your eyes, Maggie!'

They snapped open at Alexander's command and she trembled
before his furious gaze.

'Watch, and learn. You're to be the star turn at the next party
night, Maggie, so you'd better pay attention now.'

A coldness crept into her limbs as his scowl turned into a
mocking smile. Party night was two days away. Alexander was
plotting something and she was quite sure she wasn't going
to like it. For now though, she didn't dare to disobey him.
Leaning her back against the cold surface of the mirror, she
settled back to watch.

'Turn over, Camilla, onto your back. Show Maggie how
gorgeous you are.'

The woman had soft, white blonde hair which kissed the
tops of her shoulders. The pansy blue eyes which stared impassively
back at Maggie were slightly glassy, as if she were drunk,
or drugged. As Alexander smoothed his hand across her flat
belly, she preened, thrusting out her full, rosy-tipped breasts,
and pouting her lower lip. Her skin was very pale, covered in
a light smattering of freckles.

'See how compliant she is?' Alexander said lovingly.

He delivered a sudden, light smack to the undersides of
Camilla's breasts. Maggie could not take her eyes off them as
they quivered in response. The woman did not utter a sound,
though her wide, reddened lips parted slightly on a gasp. She
lay back on the pillows, absolutely still as Alexander ran his
hands down her body and closed over the light blonde fleece
between her thighs.

Obligingly, she drew up her knees as he parted them and
Maggie's eyes were rivetted on the shockingly exposed pink
skin of her sex.

'You see – juicy already!'

Alexander dipped in his finger and brought it to his lips.
Maggie's thighs began to tremble as he began to work his
finger along the tender creases. Camilla's soft moan reverberated
off the walls and roared in Maggie's ears. Alex smiled at
her wickedly as he circled the tiny pleasure bud with the tip
of his finger. Maggie watched, mesmerised, as the moisture
welled in the lips of Camilla's open sex in response.

An answering wetness gathered between her own thighs
and she sought to squeeze them together. She was prevented
by the mesh box which held her slightly apart. Maggie's vulva
began to throb needily as Camilla's breathing grew faster and
she raised her hips up off the bed, subsiding with a groan as
Alexander denied her the final release.

He signalled to Antony who pushed a cushion under the
woman's hips. Now her tight little anus was also exposed.
Alexander smeared some of the moisture from her vulva
down the crease and round the puckered entrance. It opened
under the pressure of his fingertip and he began to work his
way in.

'You like this, don't you, Maggie? You have a very responsive
little arse – perfect for taking a man. Oh yes,' he smiled in
response to her small, muffled mewl of protest, 'it's time you
experienced that singular pleasure. And you will. On party
night.'

He turned his attention back to Camilla and began to kiss
her passionately. Antony manoeuvred her onto her side and
entered her from behind. If she had been able to speak, Maggie
would have cried out. Alexander's words had chilled her to the
bone. Nothing he could have said could have filled her with
more dread. She had hated being displayed in the Exhibition
Hall, she knew she could not bear to perform such intimate
acts on a stage, in front of a live audience.

She felt Alexander's eyes on her and she stared defiantly
back at him. Too late, she realised from the sudden light in his
eyes that her resistance excited him. She shrank back against
the mirror as he stood and advanced towards her.

He was very aroused, his long, slender cock jutting out from
his body. Reaching behind her, he unclipped her hands and
brought them round to her lap. She closed her eyes as she
breathed in the scent of him, citrus and musk.

Loud groans came from the bed and they both glanced at
Antony and Camilla. She was up on her hands and knees now,
doggie fashion, and Antony was pumping his hips frantically,
his face twisted into a rictus of delight. Alexander turned back
to Maggie, obscuring her view. Without a word, he took her
hand and placed it on his cock.

Maggie's hand closed reluctantly around him and began to
move up and down along the shaft. He felt very hot, as if his
release was close. His lips passed across her bound mouth in
the lightest of kisses. That kiss was her undoing. Suddenly, she
wanted to pleasure him, wanted to make him forget the
woman on the bed.

Staring into his eyes, she ran the pad of her thumb around
the soft collar of his glans, lightly tracing the outline of the
damp groove with the tip of her thumbnail. Judging her
moment, she moved the mobile skin across his shaft up and
down several times.

A bolt of triumph made her flush as the first, violent spurt
of semen burst from him, followed by another and another.
The warm, sticky fluid hit her bare stomach and trickled downwards
to where her naked, hairless sex was confined by leather
and mesh.

When, at last, he was finished, he sighed and drew away
from her. Maggie had been so caught up in his pleasure, she
hadn't noticed Antony and Camilla leave. Alexander went over
to the bed and smoothed the sheets. Maggie watched, wide-eyed,
hardly daring to hope as he returned to her.

First, he unhooked the chain and lifted her down, leading
her over to the bed by hooking his finger inside the belt of her
leather harness. Then he removed the wrist cuffs, the neck
restraint and the breast straps. Her breasts sprang free and
swayed under the force of their own weight. The mesh box
was next and, finally, the silk scarf which gagged her.