Indecent Intent (9 page)

Despite knowing how insatiable the man was, Gabrielle was still taken by surprise and could do nothing but sit there, her back straight and her hands resting inertly on her thighs, and suck the length of flesh stretching her lips apart. Verity used his hands to guide her head back and forth, using her to gain his own pleasure, thinking nothing of her weary discomfort.

It was not long before he was approaching his climax. Gabrielle knew it was nearing and braced herself. She could feel the tension in his cock, and then his fingers clamped even tighter onto her scalp as he erupted into her mouth, and she had to earnestly swallow his glutinous emission to avoid choking. Then he pulled from her mouth and pulsed again, spraying warm jets of his creamy seed onto her dark grey T-shirt where it clung wetly to her breasts.

‘Be careful – I nearly cut you,' said Susan, as Gabrielle shivered lustily from the memory of that last encounter. Then the chill of the razor continued a more careful glide over her sex mound, refreshing its silkiness. She had become used to the sensual smoothness, the complete nakedness.

‘You're wanted in the viewing room as soon as I've finished preparing you.'

‘The viewing room?' Gabrielle asked uneasily. ‘What's that?'

Susan chuckled softly. ‘You'll find out soon enough. We all have to find out initially.'

Gabrielle was rinsed of the remaining foam and patted dry. ‘Next, we'll have you put this on,' said Susan, holding a sexy black basque, designed to nip the waist tightly, hold the breasts boldly, and present the bottom brazenly. Complementing the alluring garment was a pair of sheer silk stockings and a pair of black stilettos.

‘I'll help you dress,' Susan told her, and was clearly not to be argued with.

Gabrielle slipped down from the couch she had been lying on to be shaved, not even glancing at her freshly denuded mound as she did so; such nakedness was now normal to her and not at all strange. ‘I think you'll have to,' she said with a nervous giggle, looking uncertainly at the narrow-waisted garment and the lacing at the back. ‘I don't think I'll ever get into that by myself.'

Gabrielle wrapped the confining material around herself and Susan moved behind her and began to tug at the complex system of lacing which would give Gabrielle the required hourglass figure.

‘Put your hands on the couch and brace yourself,' Susan instructed her. ‘It'll give me more purchase.'

Gabrielle obeyed, and her breathing became shallower as the corset was pulled ever tighter, Susan even lifting her knee against Gabrielle's bottom to help gain the required leverage. Her waist became tinier and her breasts pouted over the upper edge of the bodice, and her buttocks seemed to become fuller as the basque nipped her into the most voluptuous shape imaginable.

Once the laces were secured and poor Gabrielle felt as though she was in a vice, Susan helped her into the gossamer silk stockings, rolled them up her legs, and clipped them to the suspenders that hung from the hem of the basque.

‘Step into the shoes, Gabrielle,' she said, unusually using her name. ‘There you are,' she concluded, stepping back to admire the gorgeous redhead standing before her. ‘You look lovely in that little ensemble. How does it feel?'

‘Tight,' Gabrielle responded truthfully. ‘Everything feels very tight.'

‘I think that was the master's intention. I think he feels you need more discipline.'

That piece of information sent a shard of fear into Gabrielle's inner being. She searched her mind; what had she done to deserve more discipline? What had she done wrong? She couldn't think of anything.

‘I'll take you to the viewing room now,' Susan went on, unconcerned or oblivious to Gabrielle's returning trepidation.

‘But, I don't think I want to go,' Gabrielle protested.

‘Oh, you don't?' Susan mocked. ‘And why ever not? You're not afraid, are you?'

They had left the room and were walking along a hall that was brightly lit and mirrored, like so many other areas of Verity's property. Gabrielle could see her voluptuous self, whichever way she looked, and despite looking overtly tarty, she had to admit she also looked stunningly alluring.

‘Is the viewing room far?' she asked, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the minutes passed.

‘No, not far now,' and after another few steps Susan threw open a pair of double doors. ‘Here we are…'

Gabrielle stepped into the room, and was met by a dozen or so men sitting in comfortable chairs, all of them watching her, her entrance distracting them from the large video screen in one corner of the room. Fragrant cigar smoke drifted in layered clouds, and crystal brandy glasses sparkled in the light.

Gabrielle stood motionless, not knowing what to do, and then she almost died on the spot with shame as her gaze took in the video screen, and she recognized herself… lewdly masturbating!

Verity appeared by her side and snaked a possessive arm around her waist. She instinctively tried to pull away, but his hold on her was too strong. ‘Surely you are not embarrassed by what you see, my dear girl?' he said smoothly. She trembled in his hold.

‘She is playing the blushing virgin, gentlemen,' he announced to his guests.

Gabrielle could not tear her eyes from the shameful image on the screen. She was approaching an orgasm, her body trembling and her knees threatening to give way. Where was she? Clearly a hidden camera had spied on her, but where? She was so confused with everything that had happened since meeting Marshall Verity that, for a moment, she could not think clearly or remember.

Then it came to her… she was on the plane!

Oh, no. How could he be so cruel? Her face burned with embarrassment and she desperately wanted the floor to open up and swallow her – anything to get her out of such a terrible situation!

Verity stroked her buttocks. ‘For such a shameless performance these cannot go unpunished, my dear,' he said. ‘You do understand that, don't you? My respected guests would suspect me of going soft if I did not take the correct action deserving of such a wanton display.'

There was a quiet murmur of concurrence around the room, and Gabrielle was desperate to run from there, to get away from their accusatory stares.

‘And my guests agree with me,' he went on, and there was another general murmur.

‘Gentlemen,' Verity address his guests, ‘would you care to choose your implements?'

Crystal glasses were placed on occasional tables and fine cigars rested in ornate ashtrays as the men stood and gathered around a large cabinet, which Gabrielle could now see contained a formidable array of whips and canes and paddles.

‘Be brave,' Verity chided, feeling her cringe against him. ‘We all know you're not a shrinking violet.' He nodded towards the screen where the video still played her masturbating, not that such evidence was particularly necessary.

He held her to him, one arm still around her tightly cinched waist. ‘I know you're excited, my little whore,' he goaded. ‘What is it that's turning you on so? Watching yourself behaving so disgracefully in my jet, or the thought of what my guests are about to do to you?'

Gabrielle began to tremble; there were so many of them, all looking at her with eager intent. ‘I don't know,' she whispered truthfully. ‘I don't know what's exciting me.'

‘Oh, you do know, my lovely little whore.' He hissed the words in her ear, and then he gripped her bare shoulder and forced her down over a nearby table, his abrupt action and the hard edge of the polished surface pressing into the tops of her thighs making her squeal with alarm and discomfort.

Without allowing her time to recover he pulled her arms forward and quickly and efficiently bound silken cords around her wrists, easily pinning her there, vulnerable and at the mercy of the guests, who were gathering around her with their chosen implements of discipline.

Two more lengths of the silk dangled down from the nearest edge of the table and Verity instructed one of the men to nudge her feet apart, and then her ankles were secured to the table's legs, immobilizing her even more effectively.

‘Head up,' Verity demand curtly. ‘Watch your vulgar behavior on the screen while my chosen guests teach you a lesson you will not forget in a hurry.' He stroked her hair, his considerate touch contrasting severely with his harsh words, combining to send her spinning emotions into utter confusion. ‘You are such a naughty thing that I hardly know why I care for you so much,' he said, and then stepped away, merging into the huddle of men.

‘Gentlemen,' his voice, stern again, came from somewhere behind Gabrielle, chilling her to the bone, ‘you may now proceed. You all know what to do. Make sure you teach the little strumpet well…'

Gabrielle heard the first cane slice down through the smoke laden air, but had no time to brace herself before it struck.

And it came down hard!

Gabrielle jerked beneath the searing pain, the table creaking softly as she did. The vicious blow sent the breath hissing from her lungs and so excruciating was it that she could not keep her eyes open – could not obey his instruction to watch the disgraceful video.

She wanted to scream… but then there was something else – something warm, igniting deep inside her, simmering beautifully. It was a sexual heat that seemed to grow and radiate. There was an intense burning sensation dissecting her bottom where the cane had landed, but the intense arousal building from deep within was rapidly overwhelming it. She suddenly yearned to lift her bottom, to present it for correction, to have the canes and whips and paddles absolve her of the sin she committed in the plane.

‘Well done,' she heard Verity say to the guest, and then sensed movement as another took up his position behind her.

And so it went on, for how long Gabrielle had no idea. Eventually she was untied from the table and helped, by whom she knew not, from the arena of her punishment to a bedroom, and to bed, where she fell into an exhausted and sound sleep.

Tom looked at the girl – at her flawless beauty, her brown eyes and her fall of straight, jet-black hair. Small boned and dainty, of Oriental extraction, Lia was almost too fragile to fuck, but he had fucked her roughly anyway – and more than the once. Or maybe it was the other way around; she seemed so game for anything and everything.

She had allowed him to whip her. He lashed her to the bedpost with her arms stretched high to press her slender frame hard against the carved wood. Just tying her to the post almost made him come, so erotic was the act. She did not make a sound; there was only calm acceptance.

He then spent long minutes admiring the perfection of her buttocks, tracing the curve of them with his fingers. She was so passive, even when he probed the tight valley between them and stroked the intimacy of her bottom hole, she did not utter a murmur of protest.

She had provided him with a whip. It was not particularly thick or long, nothing like he used on Gabrielle, but it was multi-stranded and would provide a good cover across the creamy skin of her neat hillocks.

The sight of her submissive beauty made his cock thicken and rise to near bursting point. He looked down and stroked it lovingly with the whip, and then looked again at the girl's bound figure. She was not at all like Gabrielle, but the very contrast made his blood run faster in his veins.

Tom drew his arm back and brought the flail down on her cute little ass. He struck again and again until her buttocks were hot to the touch and handsomely welted – and still the girl did not make a sound.

He grunted and wiped the sweat from his brow, then untied her wrists and positioned her as he wanted her on the bed – face down.

The lovely little hooker parted her legs and angled her hips for him, and he thrust into her from behind, marveling at how deliciously tight she was.

‘My bottom is even tighter, Tom San,' she whispered, seeming to read his thoughts as he aggressively thrust towards his release.

Tom looked down and groaned, seeing the inviting little opening nestled deep between her beaten buttocks, beckoning his painfully hard cock.

He withdrew carefully, not wanting to spill his seed too soon, but aching to accept her wicked invitation.

‘You must push slowly and gently, please,' she said, giving him an order without him even realising it. Then she parted her knees a little further on the bed and braced herself on her elbows, offering a vision of the pleasure pit he had already breached and an enticing vision of the one he was about to open.

He was sweating heavily again by the time his globe was within her, and despite finding her breathtakingly exciting, he also found her silence disconcerting, as was her unmoving stoicism. She simply spread herself wider and pushed her bottom up and back towards him, easing his passage with devious little moves of her hips. He gripped her shoulders, as if to give himself purchase, and her beaten bottom smacked hot against his groin as he sank deep within her with one selfish lunge.

Then her rear passage clutched him as though forever, and he could scarcely move. She wriggled on him and once more he came, copiously, more than he thought he ever could in such a short period of time.