Fifty Shades of Alice at the Hellfire Club (2 page)

“Methinks the girl wants you to tug on her buds.”

Queequeg grunted and walked around to her side of the bed, staring at her bare breasts like a starving man might stare at a feast. He reached down for her, and with rough, calloused hands began to roll and pinch her erect nipples.

Alice moaned. The pirate’s hands on her, twisting and tweaking, made the vibrations even more intense. Each time he pulled, it was like a shock that went straight to her womb.

“No coming until I say so, lassie. We’re not at the Hellfire Club yet.”

The Hellfire Club! Of course! This wasn’t just a random pirate home invasion, like you read about in the newspapers. These pirates were here to take her and Lewis to the club. Still, this wasn’t what Alice had been expecting.

“But the contract says…”

“I know what the contract says, dear Alice.” The captain grinned wickedly. “But I mean to have some fun first. Like I said, long time at sea makes a man long for certain pleasures. And there ‘tis nothing more pleasurable than a beautiful, naked woman begging for release. Just look at your face now. All tensed up. Jaw clenched. Lips pressed together. The very picture of ecstasy. You’re close, aren’t you?”

Alice’s face burned red. She nodded shamefully and panted, “Yes.”

“You want to come?”

“Yes. Oh yes, please.”

The captain rubbed his beard, seeming to consider it.

The vibrator continued to ravage her.

The pirate plucked and squeezed.

Alice’s hips rose and fell, pressing against the rabbit. Her tender clit was wet and swollen, and her insides churned with pleasure like a dam about to burst.

“No,” the captain said.

“But how am I to stop myself?” she cried out in frustration. “I… I can’t… I…”

“Distract yourself with other thoughts.”

Alice had to squeeze her eyes closed and try to think about something other than the delicious sensations she was feeling. She thought about paying taxes. Doing laundry. Washing the dishes. Being stuck in a business meeting past lunchtime while enduring an endless PowerPoint presentation containing a lot of bar graphs and pie charts. Watching
The View
. But even with her head filled with unsexy thoughts, her body still undulated with the vibrations she was being forced to endure.

Alice thrashed her head back and forth, willing herself not to give in to the pleasure, fighting her body’s natural response.

“Queequeg, why don’t you help the young lady with her rabbit? Perhaps a bit more vigorous with the motions?”

The pirate took hold of the rabbit’s base and began to twist and thrust it, working it in and out of Alice, until all she could do was clench the mattress and bite the side of the pillow to avoid screaming. Queequeg knew what he was doing. He was both gentle and firm, alternately teasing Alice with its length by using slow, shallow strokes, and then entering her hard and pressing it firmly against her G-spot, his thumb on the vibrating ears so the intensity became unbearable.

“I… I need to come!”

“No.”

Alice felt the warmth building in her, layer upon layer of pleasure that was quickly starting to peak.

“Please!”

“No.”

She tried to retreat from the pirate, to get away from the unrelenting sensations, but he cupped her bottom and held her pinned on the sex toy, lifting her as he plunged it in. Alice began to cry out, somewhere between pleading and sobbing. She just couldn’t take anymore.

“Do you want to come now?” the captain asked.

“Yes!”

“Are you certain, love?”

“YES!”

“Good. Now pull it out and set it aside.”

Alice felt like wailing as Queequeg withdrew the rabbit, leaving her a quivering jumble of sexual frustration.

“You’re… you’re so cruel,” Alice said.

“We’re pirates. We aren’t known for our social graces.” The captain winked. “But don’t you worry. You’ll have more than your share at the club. I just wanted you to have a taste of what you signed your poor husband up for. Now let’s get moving. Climb into one of these burlap sacks.”

Queequeg held one of the items up, ready to pull it down over her head. “See how the sacks are decorated with fine graphics?”

The graphics were indeed fine, especially for being printed on burlap, but Alice made a face. “Is this necessary?”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“Can’t we just come along with you? Why do we have to get into sacks?”

“Are you kidding? That’s why people read these stories. For the graphic sacks.”

The pun was almost as awful as the pulsing, wet heat between her legs.

“Hurry now, lassie. We’ve got quite a night planned for you and your husband both.”

Alice’s hands were bound behind her, the graphic burlap covering her head, shoulders and body down to the top of her thighs. Without use of her hands, she hadn’t been able to relieve her sexual frustration during the carriage ride.

Lewis was snoring beside her—he could sleep through anything—and Alice tried to focus on something other than the throbbing in her loins. But every time they hit a bump in the cobblestone, it seemed to go right to the center of her womanhood. She’d never been more wet, and to make matters worse, her lower half was exposed, cool air constantly reminding her that her special place was quite bare to the world.

To make matters even worse, the bald pirate Queequeg had taken it upon himself to give Alice the most wonderful foot massage. He began with peppermint oil, rubbing her heels, and the arches of her feet, with strong, expert hands. Alice had always found foot rubs to be sensual, and this callous-handed brute stroked and kneaded her like he was making love to her feet. It did nothing to quell the empty ache in Alice’s femininity, and she squirmed as he touched her, trying to find something to rub against to relieve herself, but unable to do anything but hump the air.

Then the pirate began to splay her toes and—

My goodness. He’s licking them.

“Such pretty tootsies,” he said, low in his throat. Then he took her large toe in his mouth and began to suck.

The sensation was impossible to describe. Somehow her feet had become an erogenous zone, and each lick and stroke brought pleasure as sure as if it had been against her private parts. Alice undulated in her sack, her eyelids fluttering as the pirate’s tongue encircled each toe, sucking and nibbling as his hands continued to caress.

“You can have your way with me,” Alice whispered, low and throaty.

“I’m fine with what I’ve got. Always been into feet. And yours are lovely.”

He took Alice’s entire heel into his mouth and sucked at it as if it were her breast, rolling his tongue around, making the heat between her legs even more unbearable. A pirate with a foot fetish. Who woulda figured?

But then, since so many had peg legs, maybe feet were a novelty.

“Seems as if you like it, dear Alice.”

“I do!”

“Seems as if you’d like me to lick and stroke more than just your feet.”

“Yes.”

“How about I lick slowly up your leg and then slide my tongue between yer thighs? Would ye like that?”

“Oh, yes.” Alice rolled her hips. Although she knew what she was doing was more than naughty, cavorting with a pirate while her husband was lying next to her, she couldn’t help herself. She was so hot, so wet, Alice could hardly think. She needed relief so badly. Alice tried to arch her pelvis so he had easy access.

“Bet you’d like my cock in your mouth, too.”

Alice moved her tongue over her lips, almost able to feel his shaft slip between them, almost able to taste his essence.

“My cock? You like that idea?”

She buried her face shamefully in the sack, but admitted, “Yes.”

Queequeg shrugged. “Sorry. The captain won’t allow it. You can’t come until we get to the Hellfire Club. And I reckon you’ll have plenty of hard cocks to savor then. But he said I can touch your feet all I like, and recite my pirate poetry. Would you like to hear a poem?”

This wasn’t the time for poetry.

Come to think of it, was there ever a time for poetry? Did anyone actually like poems other than the needy poets who penned them?

“No. I really wouldn’t,” she answered honestly.

Queequeg began to recite anyway.

“That’s… awful,” Alice said.

“Awful? But it rhymes.”

“Just because it rhymes it doesn’t mean it’s good.”

“Sure it does. Would you like to hear another?”

“Absolutely not.” She wanted to go back to imagining his tongue lapping at her, his hard manhood penetrating her lips.

But Queequeg cleared his throat and began again.

“Abysmal,” Alice said.

“It’s blank verse. That’s why this one doesn’t rhyme.”

“I picked up on that. You should have left it completely blank.”

“That’s a bit rude.”

“Why the fixation with cheese?”

“I like cheese. It’s my second favorite thing.”

“Is your first favorite ravaging extremely horny women?” Alice asked, hopeful.

“No. It is cheese-flavored snacks. Ravaging women is third. But Captain Blackbeard said I’m not to ravage you. And you don’t seem very cheesy anyway, although this story certainly is.”

“That’s the famous Captain Blackbeard?” That she and Lewis had been abducted by a famous pirate hadn’t occurred to her. “But his beard is mostly gray.”

“Can’t a man get older? Got hisself a catchy nickname, so he has to resort to coloring products to keep up with his image? You expect the most feared pirate on the seven seas to touch up his gray with Miss Clairol?”

Alice arched up and opened her legs wider, hoping the sight of her bareness would be enough to move ravishing horny women to the top of the pirate’s list. “Hang the rules. Have your way with me. I beg of you. The captain won’t know.” 

“Aye, you’re a saucy one, ain’t ya?”

“Don’t I arouse you?”

“Indeed you do.”

Alice took the foot he wasn’t orally copulating with and lowered it to below his belt, groping with her toes until she found something very long and very hard.

“Why, you’re enormous!”

“That’s the hilt of my cutlass, lass. But since you’re curious…”

The pirate grabbed her ankle. Shuffling aside fabric, he pressed her foot against something not as long or hard, but definitely warm and male. She rubbed her toes up his length and he moaned.

“Oh, please,” Alice said. “I must have it inside me.”

“My willy or the handle of my sword?”

Alice sighed. “At this point I’ll take anything.”

“Anything? Well I have this poem…”

Was he kidding? “Anything other than poetry. Please, I need to come.”

“You know what’s in store for you at the Hellfire Club. You signed the contract. It’s bound to be downright exhausting.”

“I don’t care. If I don’t come soon I fear I’ll go insane. I’ll do anything you ask. Want me to pretend to be a big wedge of provolone?”

“Intriguing, but I don’t think so.”

She was getting truly desperate. “What if I also recite bad cheese poetry?”

“What do you mean by
bad
? My dear mother loves my poetry. Said my limburger iambic pentameter was so lyrical she could smell the funky stink.”

Alice began her verse.

She tried to gauge his reaction, but Queequeg seemed unimpressed. Alice wondered if she should have gone with her first idea, something to do with
mozzarella
and
blow a fella
. What man could resist that?

“I think I’ll go back to sucking your toes,” he said.

“Is that all you do?” she asked, petulant. “Cheese poems and foot fetishism?”

“I’m also carving my own coffin. I have a feeling I’ll be needin’ it when the Pequod ships out in a few days. That’s what Ismael says.”

“Ismael?”

“They call him Ismael.”

Alice tried to think of some Moby Dick pun, but Queequeg once again began fellating her toes, ruining her concentration, making her squirm and whimper. She didn’t even notice the carriage had stopped until she heard Blackbeard’s voice.

“She been begging for it?” he asked.

“Aye, Captain. Quite a case of the hornies, this one has.”

“Didn’t I say you weren’t allowed to come until we reached the Hellfire Club?

“I don’t care what you said,” Alice spat, defiantly.

“Perhaps I should punish you before we enter the club,” the captain said.

“Yes, punish me,” Alice said. “I insist.” She was so close to orgasm that a few spanks on her bottom would be more than enough to send her over the edge.

“Tie her to the floor of the carriage. I’ll give her the Blackbeard special.”

Queequeg’s eyes got big. “But Captain! That’s too cruel!”

“Her insolence warrants it. Bind her.”

Soon Alice was happily free of the burlap bag and bound, naked and deliciously spread-eagled, onto the floor of the carriage. Whereas she’d felt so self-conscious when the pirates had first burst in on her while she masturbated, Alice was now completely wanton. Lewis was still sleeping, now heaped on the top of the carriage with the luggage, but she hardly gave a thought to her husband. She could focus only on the exquisite release that was to come. Whatever happened next would no doubt be wonderful.

“Do your worst,” she challenged Blackbeard, her skin tingly all over.

The captain got down on his knees and nestled his face between her legs.

Alice felt his hot breath on her thighs, and his long beard tickle her most sensitive spot. She began to thrash her head back and forth, her hips squirming. “God, yes!”

She pressed her pelvis up against his mouth, but Blackbeard pulled away.

“Tie her hips down, too.”