Fifty Shades of Alice at the Hellfire Club (8 page)

His gaze moved down there, and she could see a bulge building in his breeches.

“I do see it. Like a halved peach, and every bit as sweet, no doubt.”

“Why don’t you take off your pants?” she asked.

“I beg your pardon, milady, but champagne awaits us.”

Alice would have been disappointed, except she was thirsty. And she couldn’t wait to see what Athos might do when he got a little bubbly in him. She’d loved her time with Cleopatra, but she had a craving for a man. She swished in the direction he directed.

There was indeed a champagne bucket standing next to a silk upholstered bench, more modern day than 17th century, but Alice wasn’t going to quibble. Alice perched on the bench, ankles crossed like a perfect lady. Of course, she was a lady who happened to be exposing all her feminine parts to the world.

She had to admit it was very exciting.

Athos reached behind the bench and pulled out a bouquet of roses.

Alice smiled, accepted the flowers, and held them to her chest and sniffed deep, the rough stems brushing her nipples.

Athos picked up the champagne, opening it with only a slight pop.  He offered her a glass. “For you, milady.”

She took a sip, sneezing a little from the bubbles. Alice felt very much like a fairy tale princess.

Well, a slutty fairy tale princess who really needed a cock inside her. Maybe even more than one. She wondered if Snow White ever got this horny. She must. Why else live with seven little men?

“You are a vision, milady,” Athos said, bowing deep.

Alice looked at the gorgeous Athos. She looked at the champagne and the flowers. It made her feel wanted, and special, and was a nice breather from all the orgasms.

And, strangely, it made her want more orgasms.

“You’re very polite, Athos, and very attractive. A perfect gentlemen. Are we going to get to something physical anytime soon?”

“Soon, milady.”

Then a door into the chamber opened, and Lewis walked in, Jane Eyre at his side. He was still completely naked, his erection bobbing as he walked. But this time, something was different.

“They shaved you!” Alice observed. “You look at least two inches bigger!”

“And you look so beautiful, Alice. So sexy I can hardly bear it.” He gave Alice a little smile that she could feel all the way to her toes, and he skimmed her barely hidden breasts and crotch with his gaze.

“Steady, Lewis,” Jane said. “We haven’t even begun the lesson.”

Lewis swallowed hard, and nodded. “What is the lesson about this time?”

Jane made him sit on a bench and chained his arms to the column above. “Respect.”

“Respect?” Lewis made a face. “People don’t seem very respectful around here with all the tying and teasing and forcing of orgasms.”

“All healthy sex includes respect, Lewis.”

“But Alice was begging to stop and no one listened. That didn’t seem respectful.”

“And that was part of the game, part of what she signed up for here at the Hellfire Club. Even the edging by Blackbeard and the orgasm torture in the Swing Room were about consent, trust, and empowerment. Heathcliff, Dickens, and Blackbeard were only doing what she chose, playing out her fantasies. Weren’t they, Alice?”

Alice nodded. She’d been through a lot, and at moments she’d wondered if she could take it all. But it was exactly what she’d signed up for.

“And now on to the lesson.” Jane grasped the collar of her very proper dress with the row of buttons running down the front and gave it a pull. One by one, the buttons popped free, and a voluptuous pair of naked breasts spilled from the opening.

Oh, my.

Jane let the dress fall to the floor, baring the rest of her surprisingly shapely body (that proper, governess dress hid a lot!), and then she turned to Lewis. “I want you to pay close attention to what I do and say. First I’d like you to notice how Athos is wooing Alice. Flowers, champagne, treating her like a lady.  Not pawing her. Not taking advantage. Not only thinking of his own pleasure. He’s treating her like the special woman she is.”

Lewis nodded, and gave Alice another little smile.

Jane went on, pulling on her nipples as she talked. “Besides being the trappings of romance and showing a woman she’s special, the scent of flowers, a little bubbly, it all stimulates the senses, lowers inhibitions, and can arouse desire.”

Alice had to agree with that. And the dashing Athos only added to the picture.

“And while you think about how you will romance Alice, I’m going to suck your rochester.” She knelt down between Lewis’s thighs. As it turned out, Lewis’s rochester ended up being his cock, and Jane sucked as she’d promised, starting with a swirl of the tongue, then taking him fully into her mouth.

Alice sipped her champagne. Delicious. She smelled the flowers. Divine. She watched Jane pleasure her husband, then feasted her eyes on the dashing Athos, still bowing his apology, his eyes glued to Alice as if the spectacularly nude Jane wasn’t even there.

So Lewis would learn from Jane and Alice would have her fun with Athos. She couldn’t wait to get started. “So perhaps it is time for my lesson?” she asked her dashing suitor, hoping that would inspire him to strip like Jane had.

“Of course it is time! I have arrived!” Another man strode into the dining hall his riding boots clicking on the stone. His hair was shorter, and beard and mustache slightly more full. Dressed similarly to Athos, he held a tray heaped with food. “I’m Porthos, and I can tell Athos has left you hungry, both for food and romance.”

Athos grunted.

But before Alice could comment, both men were feeding her. The freshest nectarines, the most succulent strawberries, and the sweetest cherries, nectar dripping to her chin.

“Certain foods can be very sexy, too,” Jane said, coming up for a breather. “The whole ritual of feeding each other can be a real turn-on.”

“I can’t get any more turned-on,” Lewis said, beginning to sound a little desperate.

“May I have a nectarine, Athos?”

“Pardon me for a moment, Alice.” Athos rose and brought Jane a piece of fruit. “Would the governess like it sliced in half?”

“If you please.”

Athos tossed the nectarine into the air, unsheathed his sword, and deftly cut it in half.  Just as deftly, Jane caught one of the halves and began to rub it along the length of Lewis’s cock.

“Thank you, Athos.”

Athos bowed, and returned to feeding Alice, as Jane alternated licking the juice from her husband and applying more. Lewis’s face pinched, and he began to pant.

As much as she was enjoying herself, Alice had to admit she was getting a bit tired. The whole day had been an endless wave of orgasms. If Lewis couldn’t hold out, if she had to start over…

“Please hold out, Lewis,” she said, catching his eye. “For me.”

“I’m trying, Alice. I’m really trying.”

“Think unsexy thoughts, Lewis,” Jane said. This time she took his manhood in both hands, one fist on top of the other, and started to twist in opposite directions. She worked up the length of his shaft, and when she started twisting her way back down, she took his tip into her mouth.

“This isn’t fair,” Lewis sputtered. He clenched his eyes shut and started babbling lyrics to Broadway musicals. Weren’t many things unsexier than that, except maybe death metal.

“It looks as though I have arrived just in time!”

Alice looked toward the voice, and yet another man entered the room, same garb, yet with long, dark hair, a wickedly pleasurable looking mustache and only a hint of beard.

“Aramis at your service, milady!” He took her hand and kissed it, then guided her out of her chair. Just like that, music began to play, a passionate tango, and Aramis took her in his arms and started dancing.

Alice whirled around the floor. Some steps in the dance were smooth and romantic, some staccato and sharp, but every spot she placed her feet seemed to be right, as if she’d spent the last ten weeks on
Dancing With The Stars
. And Aramis looked down at her face, her breasts, as if he was thinking of much more than dance.

Her fatigue forgotten, Alice felt stimulated, alive, and she hoped they moved to the
much more
stage soon.

“Dancing is also very sexy, Lewis. Look at how their bodies move in rhythm with one another. How Aramis takes the lead. How Alice matches him step for step as his equal. You can tell they want to fuck each other, and yet they are still restrained.”

Alice continued dancing, only getting glimpses of Jane tucking Lewis between her generous breasts and sliding up and down. She looked at Aramis, so handsome, so dashing, and thought about what it might feel like to try the same thing with him. “Aren’t you hot from dancing? All three of you seem so overdressed.”

“Anticipation, Lewis,” Jane said, still moving while she cupped her soft flesh around him. “That’s part of the fun of flowers and romantic dinners and dancing. Alice is anticipating the sex to come.”

“And come she will!” A fourth man strode toward Alice. Around Alice’s age and a bit younger than the other three, he wore the same boots and breeches as the other men, but instead of the leather doublet, he sported only the white shirt, unbuttoned to his navel. His chest was as smooth as his face, and his wavy hair reached to his shoulders. “I’m dA‘rtangan, and I’m here for the sword fight.”

Now, Alice had fantasized before about a sword fight, and the thought of these four handsome and dashing men engaged in rubbing their hard shafts together made her knees feel a little weak. She stopped dancing, sagging a little in Aramis’s arms.

“I’d love to watch the four of you sword fight,” she said on a puff of air.

“Oh, you’re not going to watch, Alice. We are going to sword fight. You and me.”

“I’d love to. But I don’t have an… um… sword.”

Athos looked from one musketeer to the other. “I don’t know about the three of you, but I’m a little relieved to hear that.”

“I agree,” Porthos said. “We already have four. Seems we have the sword thing covered.”

“Besides,” Aramis chimed in. “We would have to be blind not to notice. That lace skirt really hides nothing. Looks like half of a nectarine.”

“I observed the same,” Athos offered. “Except I said a peach.”

“Are a peach and a nectarine the same thing?” Aramis asked.

“A peach has velvety fuzz,” Jane said between licks. “A nectarine is smooth. The comparison of Alice to a nectarine is apt, because she is freshly shaven.”

Alice cared little about whether she looked more like a peach or a nectarine, but she was more interested in the proposed sword fight. “Can we hurry this process along somehow?”

Athos, Porthos, and Aramis gathered around, and Porthos handed her his sword. To Alice’s extreme disappointment, it was the sharp kind of sword, made from steel. “Use this.”

“Really? This is what you meant by swordfighting? Actually swordfighting?”

She’d barely figured out how the thing fit in her hand when d’Artagnan drew his own sword.

“Ready?”

“But I don’t know how—”

“I’ll teach you. It’s like dancing.”

“Dancing usually ends with a dip, not a laceration.”

“I know you’ll do fine. Now hold your sword in front of you and watch my feet.” He took a few steps forward, tapping her blade lightly, then a few steps back.

Alice had to laugh. It
was
like dancing. And her heart was racing with each swish of his blade.

“You try.”

She did. And like with the dancing, her feet seemed to move flawlessly of their own accord.

“Now together.”

He lunged.
Tap-tap-tap.

Alice held out her blade and somehow managed to parry. Then it was her turn to attack.
Tap-tap-tap.

Jane raised her head from Lewis’s lap. “Fear is one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs.”

d’Artagnan shifted to the side, moving so fast it was hard for Alice to follow, but somehow, she did.

“Of course, you don’t have to risk your life, like Alice is doing now,” Jane continued. “You could just do something a little out of your normal rut. Go skiing. Travel somewhere adventurous. Read some edgy erotica. Stream a scary movie through Amazon Prime. Or take a trip to the Hellfire Club.”

A little lunge, a perfectly good parry, and Alice backed into a wall, d’Artagnan’s blade at her throat. “My goodness. That’s quite frightening, being on the end of a blade.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Alice.”

“What do you want?”

“Your nipples are very hard, Alice,” d’Artagnan said. “Very excited.”

“Y-y-yes.”

“I’d like to see them better.”

She reached up to her cleavage, ready to pull the lace down.

“Don’t move!” he said. “Stand very still.”

Alice did her best to freeze, but her heart was pounding and her breasts rose and fell with her panting breaths.

Three swishes of his sword, and the lace blouse fell to the floor, fully exposing her breasts.

“There. How do you feel, Alice?”

“Hot.” She felt more than hot. She felt wicked.

“Just one more thing, Alice. Hold still for me again.” Three more slashes and her lace skirt lay on the stone, leaving her naked except for the corset.

“Will you spread your legs for me? Just a little so I can see you better?”

Alice did, cool air caressing her swollen and very wet sex. She glanced behind dA‘rtangnan, looking for the other musketeers, wanting all of them to see her like this. Hot. Naked. Ready.

“I can confirm the tangerine metaphor.”

“It’s a simile,” Jane said, her mouth full of cock.

The other three musketeers filed back into the room. They were nude now, except for black rings encircling each of their shafts and balls, and their magnificent swords (yeah,
that
kind of sword) surged toward Alice.

After all her orgasms and dancing and fencing, Alice’s knees wobbled, her thighs weak. At the sight of three hard cocks attached to three dashing men—no, make that four, since d’Artagnan had now removed his clothing as well—her legs folded, and she kneeled on the floor, taking them all in at eye-level.

Athos had a large head and prominent ridge. He curved to the right a little and bounced as he walked.