Named and Shamed (11 page)

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Authors: C. P. Mandara

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance

BOOK: Named and Shamed
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'Itching to move so soon, Miss Morreau?' When he murmured her surname he used the French intonation, rolling the double 'r', and it sent a shiver right through her.

'Yes,' she whispered back. He began to peel her dress back up over her stockinged legs and as he reached the smooth, uncovered flesh of her upper thighs, he let his hands roam.

'Lean forward and push your bottom out,' he whispered in her ear.

Marianna obliged.

'Beautiful. I see your dress has dried somewhat. Pity.' Mark bunched the fabric upward with the heels of his hands and revealed a pair of deliciously pink, naked buttocks. 'Cold outside, was it?'

She was aware that he was amusing himself at her expense, but also horribly distracted as both his hands had begun to snake underneath her backside. He inserted them between her legs and used them to splay her apart. His tongue traced a path down the delicate dip in her ass cheeks, which quivered in response. 'At least I won't need to ask if you're wet.' Pressing something cold against her pussy, he began to slide it along her sex. She squawked and instantly tried to close her legs.

'Tsk, tsk. Naughty behaviour like that is rewarded like this.' He gave her rear end a firm swat with the flat of his hand. It stung his palm, so the chit had certainly felt it. At any rate, she seemed to take the lesson on board, keeping her body nice and still as he gradually pushed the item inside her. Using one finger to tease her clit, he burrowed the item deep into her flesh.

Marianna could hear the sounds of fingers being sucked and licked clean. What on earth was he up to? As his fingers once again pressed for entry at her core she tried to concentrate on the shape of the object being inserted, but other than ascertaining the item was cold and slightly wet, she remained clueless. He repeated the process three times and then backed away from her. Desperately wanting to ask what the item was, but daring not to use her voice unless express permission had been granted, she held her silence. She used her vaginal walls to clamp tightly on the objects jammed inside her and was rewarded with a cold trickle of liquid, which streamed down her leg.

'Hold them gently, Marianna. I don't want to have to eat mush.' A single hand began to prize her ass cheeks apart and with the other he wedged little slices of something, similarly cold, between her buttocks. If she wasn't much mistaken they were sturdy slices of apple, which were being held in place by little more than the curve of her ass. That meant he'd squeezed either strawberries or pieces of banana inside her. It appeared she was going to be breakfast, along with the fruit.

Approaching the front of her sublimely stretched body, Mark smiled at the expression on her face. It was an interesting cross between apprehension and lust. When her eyes immediately searched for his hands he knew she had figured his plan out. He slowly peeled his banana in three long slices and pulled it from its nesting place.

'Suck.'

Her slick lips opened on a moan. Using a gentle mouth, she drew the soft length inside her.

'Not bad, Marianna, but you need to do better. Suck, my pretty little thing,
suck
.' To give the girl her due she did exactly that, although she managed to gag at the end of her efforts. It wouldn't do her any harm. There was little more than quarter of the banana left outside her mouth and that was exactly how he liked it. 'Don't move.'

Marianna was hardly going to start running about the place with various soft and squishy pieces of fruit decorating nearly every orifice. Whilst the office staff wouldn't be particularly shocked at seeing her run around naked, she might get a few stares with half an apple stuck into the crevice of her backside. Maintaining her position with as much precision as she could muster, and thinking that she really wouldn't mind having half a banana for her breakfast, her carefully honed eardrums heard the sound of whittling. Matthews had his knife out again. What was he up to now? She didn't have to wait long to find out. The first thing he did on his return was place circles of fruit, which must have been either banana or strawberry, along the ridges of her lower spine. Then she felt something thick and sticky being poured over her back.

'It's honey. I like my fruit sweet and my submissives even sweeter.' The statement was accompanied by a chuckle.

Marianna was glad someone was laughing. Honey was now being trickled down her ass cheeks and thick globs dripped to the chair below. Someone was going to have lots of fun clearing up this mess. Marianna could only be glad that the office toilets contained showers because she was certainly going to need one after this little episode.

'And now for the piece de resistance,' Mark said, and there was a lilt to his voice that Marianna did not like. The next thing she knew something was pressed against her sphincter. Oh God. The man was twisting what had to be a small cylindrical piece of apple into her rectum. The honey made his job considerably easier. He applied pressure for a minute or two before the apple slotted soundly inside her. All conscious thought disappeared and she moaned in heat.

Mark stood back to admire his breakfast. She was fresh and hopefully ready to be plucked, bitten, sucked, chewed and swallowed. He intended to do each and every one of those actions on her body before he'd finished his meal. Smiling, as her ass squirmed at the intrusion of his carefully constructed 'apple cork', he took two elastic bands out of his trouser pocket. Squeezing a hand under the top of her dress, he pulled on her nipple and was rewarded with a groan of protest. Pinching the nub between thumb and forefinger he pulled gently. When the point had hardened he began to wrap the elastic around it, over and over. He repeated the action on the other side.

When he had finished his ministrations Marianna barely managed to stifle a sob. There was no question that the insistent throb of pain through her teats had taken her arousal to the next level. Breathing deeply she braced herself for what she felt sure was coming next: the riding crop. It was no secret that it was Matthew's favourite instrument of torture.

Fingering the fine Italian leather of his crop and appreciating its flexibility, Mark inhaled deeply and savoured the heady aroma of lust, which mingled very nicely with the sugary sweetness of clover honey.

'I'm going to eat you, Marianna. Every single inch of your flesh is going to be tasted, savoured and consumed by me. Does that arouse you?'

'Mmmm,' was the frenzied but vociferous reply. It was hard to articulate your actual feelings with most of a banana sinking deep into your vocal chords.

'I thought it might. To make sure you do not take your pleasure earlier than I would like, your nipples will be cropped if I feel you're becoming overly excited.' To demonstrate his point he let the tip of his crop smack upon her left teat. Even though the fabric of her dress softened the blow, a gurgled moan ensued. 'The longer those elastic bands are on your nipples and the more I crop them, the more painful it will be. It will encourage my 'meal' to stay still and be a good girl, won't it?'

Marianna could only nod her head in reply.

With no further ado Mark began to devour his breakfast. He began by sucking the delicate slices of strawberry from along her lower spine, piece by sticky piece. His fingers drew patterns in the honey before his tongue lapped at the gooey mess. Obediently she remained as still as a statue, although a hand on her ribcage revealed a heart that was beating far faster than it should have been. His honey-coated hands reached around to squeeze her breasts, over the fabric of her dress, and play with her nipples. Firm fingernails pinched them, eliciting sharp gasps from his victim. The elastic torment was performing well.

When his clean-shaven face was liberally coated in fruit juice and goo, he moved around to the front of the chair and bent his head to capture her lips, biting off a sizeable chunk of banana in the process. After he'd swallowed, he glued his sticky lips to hers and threading his fingers deep inside the wavy tresses of her hair, he almost forced her to give up the whole of her banana by sucking fiercely. Adjusting the pressure of his mouth he let her feed him his treat, inch by slow inch. Had his mouth not been occupied he might have raised a smile because the banana had not a dint imprinted upon its flesh. She was a careful one. While her tongue duelled his with emblazoned passion, she managed to retain firm control of her body. That would change. Sucking the last inch of nectar-sweet banana into his mouth he bit it in two, ate his half and returned the other half back to her. A few calories certainly wouldn't hurt her.

'Swallow.' Oh, and wasn't that a word he loved? Plying her mouth with his once more, he waited until she opened beneath him before plunging two of his sugary digits inside. He stroked the smooth, liquid-silk of her tongue. 'Clean them.' There was little point, they were going to get a whole lot dirtier before long, but he had an urge to feel her tongue and lips working upon him. She didn't hesitate. Sucking and tonguing him greedily, he let her repeat the process on each of his fingers.

Trying his hardest to put all thoughts of Jennifer Redcliff firmly behind him, he thought what a darling submissive Marianna would make. He could install her at his apartment, strip her permanently naked and have her serve him around the clock. She could sleep at the foot of his bed, she could scrub his back and she could suck him dry at regular intervals. For kicks, he could even give his housekeeper the day off and make her cook, with the threat of a good caning if her culinary skills weren't up to scratch. He'd never brought a submissive back to his home and the idea was tempting.

His thoughts, annoyingly, strayed straight back to Miss Redcliff. How glorious would she look, her eyes blazing with fury, as he began the long and arduous process of taming her? It would be a tough job, but someone would have to do it. Her snarly personality, her sharp wit, that beautiful face; they could all be trained to worship the very ground he walked upon. That one would enjoy taking pain for him as Marianna never would. It was a notion not even worth entertaining. Jennifer would not be for sale. Whatever her old man was up to, it wouldn't bode well for him, of that he was sure. Cursing, he tried to refocus his thoughts. He decided Marianna's backside was a sure fire way to capture his attention.

Poising a set of perfectly matched and even teeth around the apple cork, he crunched into it. His tongue began to circle the remaining piece of apple, which was still firmly embedded inside her. She'd have lots of fun trying to remove that later. He buried his nose into her ass cheeks and slowly picked up each slice of fruit he'd hidden there. They tasted divine. Her perfumed body lotion had mingled with the honey, and combined they were a heady aphrodisiac.

'Sit.' When she immediately went to seat herself from where she was standing, he corrected her mistaken assumption. 'I want you facing me, legs spread so damn wide they shake at the effort, and keep those hands behind your back.'

Movement was not easy when your body had squishy fruit stashed in its most secret of places, noted Marianna, but move she did. Obediently she lay back in the curved wood of the rocker and stretched her thighs until they threatened to break away from her body. She had heard from office gossip that when Matthews issued a command he meant what he said. If he'd asked for trembling legs, he would not be satisfied until he had witnessed the effect with his own eyes. Thankfully, it wasn't going to be a hard feat to accomplish. Her legs were already shaking, but not with the effort of opening them. His mere presence was enough to produce a minor earthquake within her body. When he bent his head and aimed for the last morsels of his breakfast, Marianna banged her head against the back of her chair and screamed. She could not take much more of this.

Mark was trying to find his strawberries. With his chin resting on the base of the chair he suckled at their hidden resting place. Deeply embedded within Marianna's body, they did not give themselves up easily. The first one had to be cajoled out of her with some impressive suction and the aid of his tongue. Savouring the taste of one somewhat misshapen strawberry, coated profusely with the essence of female arousal, he took a moment to feast upon the delicacy before employing the use of his fingers. Delving deep inside her they widened into a 'V' shape and captured their prey. In between each strawberry he let his mouth wander. He gave her a nip on the inside of her thigh with his teeth, a stroke of his tongue along her labia and a single pulse of his finger upon her clit. The woman was squirming with so much vigour you'd have thought her ass was on fire.

It was all Marianna could do to keep her hands held behind the chair back. Like the rest of her body they were shaking horribly. The instruction had been drummed into her during training. Hands behind you at all times, unless ordered otherwise. They were straining against the rigid hold she had set upon them, her fingers ready to lunge at his head and pull his face into her groin. She ached. Her whole body ached. Arching against him, groaning madly, she tried to show him exactly what she wanted, but every time her clit neared his mouth he subtly moved away. He could not leave her like this a second time, could he? The man could not be that cruel. When her eyes connected with his she saw humour reflected in their depths. He knew what she was thinking.

'If you're a good girl, Marianna, I'll let you dance upon my chair. But you won't come until I give you permission. Are we clear?'

'Yes Sir,' she hissed. He had nearly robbed her of the ability to speak.

'Good, because I've only just started. If you get too close to the Promised Land, beg to be whipped.' Those words robbed her of the ability to do just about anything.

Mark's fingers toyed with her abraded nipples, as if to remind her of the delicate predicament she was in. Leaving the top half of her dress in place, the light rub of the material at each movement was a constant reminder of his threat. Burning up from within she locked her hands more tightly around the chair, feeling a direct line forming between the teat he was tugging upon and her pussy. His fingers twisting the reams of elastic this way and that, offered both soothing relief and indescribable pain, in the form of unbearable arousal. Her body withstood the valiant attack on its left side, but the right was her undoing.

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