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Authors: Esme Ombreux

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica

One Week in the Private House (27 page)

BOOK: One Week in the Private House
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'What sort of things?' Jem said, when her lips parted at last from Julia's. They were in Jem's chamber, in bed.

T love being your bodyguard,' Julia said, her mouth nuzzling Jem's crinkled nipples. 'And I especially like guarding these bits of your body. Oh, yes, that's nice. Put another finger in, Jem, my sweet. You're terribly good to me.'

'What have we got to discuss, Jules?' Jem's fingers pushed more deeply into Julia to emphasise each word.

'Don't be jealous, Jem. But I'm rather worried about a colleague. A field operative. Her name's Asmita, and she's such a young thing ...'

'I heard about that. Our glorious Master had her punished it seems. She's being kept in the dungeon.'

'Why, Jem? What's she supposed to have done?'

'You know His Majesty. She's done nothing, as far as I can make out. I don't know what I can do, Jules. I'll try to find out where they're keeping her.'

Julia sucked Jem's left nipple for a moment, trying to order her swirling thoughts. 'There's someone else,' she said at last.

'Julia! And I thought I was the mistress of your heart!'

4
Oh, you are, Jem, you truly are, you silly thing. I mean there's someone else I'm worried about. You remember I told you about Lucy Larson, the woman at the Club who was asking too many questions?'

'Sure I remember,' Jem said with a strange smile.

'Well, today she told me that she's the wife of a lawyer: an important lawyer, a fraud specialist, very well-to-do. And she said he's useless in bed, and she's desperate for some nooky, whatever that may mean.'

'She sounds like the Master's kind of lady.'

'But it can't be true, can it, Jem? Or can it? I don't think

I believe a word of it. She doesn't seem to me like the bored wife of a high-flying barrister. Quite frankly, Jem, she's far too common.'

Jem burst out laughing, and then smothered Julia's face with little kisses, i adore you, Jules. Hell, I don't know. My advice is that you should file a report that recommends bringing her in. If she's what she says she is, the Master's gained a valuable asset. If she isn't, well, the Master and Chief Anderson have ways of detecting wolves in sheep's clothing. I guess I'm lucky the Master brought me in through the green channel.'

Later, as Julia went to sleep with her face pressed against Jem's spicy skin, she wondered briefly what her lover had meant by that last remark. Then she reminded herself to file a report about Lucy as soon as she woke up. And then she slept.

a

Day 6:
Friday

The room was still in darkness, but there were strips of grey light around the heavy curtains. Lucy fumbled for her watch and squinted at the dial. Late for breakfast again! Her head sank into the pillows and she tried to muster some enthusiasm for getting up.

Neither Asmita nor Julia had been in the Club the previous evening. Lucy had stayed up late, failing to follow the plot of a murder mystery video. She hated to go to bed alone, and waking up alone wasn't much better. And she suddenly realised she wasn't alone.

Black-jacketed figures moved in the shadows near the door. There was a click, a soft hiss that sounded as loud as an explosion in the silent bedroom, and Lucy felt a sharp pain in her thigh.

Her training took over. Adrenalin flowed. She rolled off the bed, putting the divan between her and the intruders. She clenched her fists, ready to spring into a fight. She felt something small and hard attached to her thigh; her legs were heavy, she couldn't move them; her eyes could not focus. The dark figures were closing in, but not as fast as the black clouds of sleep that overwhelmed her.

There was a knock on the door. Jem opened one eye, and reached for Julia, but she was alone in the bed. Jem was glad she didn't have to keep Security hours. She shook her head, stretched her arms, and ruffled her hair. 'Come in!' she called.

Maxine, in her maid's uniform, opened the door. 'Morning, Miss Jem,' she said. Jem grinned; the maid was shy and nervous, but kept glancing at Jem's body.

'Come here and kiss me, Maxine,' Jem said, patting the bed. The maid approached hesitantly, and sat on the edge of the mattress. Jem pulled her closer, gently tugging her dark curls until her soft lips met Jem's urgent kiss. The girl shivered and closed her brown eyes as Jem's tongue entered her mouth and Jem's fingers started to unbutton her blouse.

Jem's hands fondled the diminutive black lace cups of the maid's corset, squeezing and lifting the weight of Maxi-ne's breasts. She placed a trail of kisses along the girl's jawline until she reached her ear. 'Julia's told me what she's going to do with these tits,' she whispered.

Jem expected giggles, or an anxious 'Will it hurt, Miss?'; but Maxine sighed and pushed her nipples against Jem's hands. 'Are you going to watch, Miss Jem?' she sighed.

'Would you like me to?' Jem buried her face in the maid's neck, nibbling her earlobe in time with pinching her nipples.

'Oh - Oh, yes, please, Miss,' Maxine said between little gasps.

Jem pulled away to look at the maid's flushed face. 'Well, I'd love to watch, if Julia'll let me,' she said. 'I guess I could help. I could keep you still; hold your wrists, maybe, and sit on your face to keep you quiet.'

Maxine was speechless with joy. Jem twisted her nipples, and felt a surge of pleasure as the maid's eyes widened still further in response. Tell me, Maxine, where's Jenny?'

'Jenny, Miss?'

'My maid. She should be here, shouldn't she?'

'I couldn't say, Miss - honest!' The girl was patently lying, but Jem reluctantly loosened her grip. 'And I've got instructions from the Master, Miss, for you.'

'Oh dear,' Jem said ironically. 'Let me guess: he demands my presence in his chambers immediately.'

'That's right, Miss. I'm to tell him you're on your way to him, just as soon as I've dressed you.'

'I'll tell you what,' Jem said, licking Maxine's nipples until she thought the mafd might swoon with delight, i'll dress myself, while you fetch some ribbon.'

'Ribbon, Miss?'

'Wide ribbon, Maxine. Black, if possible. As much as you can find. And a pair of scissors.'

She jumped out of bed, leaving Maxine to refasten her blouse and hurry from the room with frequent backward glances at Jem's naked form.

Having showered and applied her make-up, Jem went to the wardrobe and selected another of the costumes that Rhoda had provided. She clipped on a tiny front-fastening bra and a thin suspender belt, both in plain cream silk; then she slipped on a matching pair of French knickers and sheer stockings. She added a necklace of pearls, and earrings with pendant pearl clusters, burgundy ankle boots and matching kid leather gloves. Over the back of a chair she laid a long wine-red cloak.

She was enjoying the sensation of rotating her leather-encased fingertips round her silk-covered nipples when Maxine returned, carrying three rolls of black ribbon and a pair of pinking shears. Jem continued to tease her crinkled tips while Maxine stood uncertainly in the doorway, her eyes fixed enviously on Jem's fingers.

'Miss?' Maxine said. 'Shall I tell the Master you're on your way now, Miss?'

'I don't think so, Maxine. Close the door and get undressed.'

'But, Miss - The Master -'

'Do as you're told, girl. Take your clothes off. But leave on your corset and your stockings.' Jem cupped her silk-clad breasts and lifted them towards the maid, who gulped and hurried to obey.

As Maxine undressed Jem watched, and cut ribbon into assorted lengths. This kid's got a fantastic body, she was thinking as she estimated the amount of ribbons she would need and revelled in the anticipatory tightening of her stomach. A fantastic body, and gorgeous tits, bigger and better even than the athletic-looking Lucy Larson's pointed, thrusting pair. Maxine's body gave no hint of strenuous activity: her breasts were heavy,
pendulous,
pear-shaped and languorous, made for squeezing
and
nuzzling. They would be too soft for a riding crop, Jem considered without pausing to be surprised at her own thoughts, but ideal for a thin, whippy cane. Jem pictured the pale globes streaked with the red lines of cane strokes, and then laughed softly, self-deprecatingly, when
1
she realised where her train of thought had taken her.

Ts there - Is there something wrong, Miss?' Maxine was standing in the correct position, her hands behind her back and her stockinged legs parted so that there was a hand's breadth between the tops of her chubby white thighs. With her waist clinched by the corset, her bosom and hips flared out to make a perfect hourglass shape, the curves of pale skin accentuated by the blackness of the basque, suspenders and stockings.

'Hell, no, Maxine,' Jem said, 'I'm not laughing at you. Just at me. I'm going crazy. I was thinking I'd like to cane your breasts.'

'Oh, yes please, Miss Jem. Shall I fetch a cane?'

'Not right now, honey. We don't have time. Just tell me if you like to feel those cute nipples pressed up against a cold, hard surface.'

'Of course, Miss,' Maxine replied dutifully.

'Then lie along the coffee table. No, fetch a pillow from the bed. Now hold it across that bushy black triangle of yours, and get yourself across that table.'

Maxine lowered herself on to the table top. Her hand extended beyond one end of it, and her long black hair almost touched the floor; at the other end of the table her dimpled arse was uplifted by the pillow beneath her pelvis. Her breasts, flattened against the polished surface, formed circles of flesh at the sides of her ribcage. Her hands rested on the floor, and her legs extended behind her.

'Are you going to punish me, Miss?'

'Don't tempt me, girl. No, I'm going to tie you up.'

'Why, Miss?'

'You impudent servant!' Jem laughed, delivering to Maxine's left buttock a sharp slap that turned into a lingering caress. 'If you must know, it's because I'm not going to keep that date with the Master. So I'm doing this for your own protection, you see, and for the cameras. You'll be able to say that I overpowered you, and left you bound and helpless and unable to report that I'd gone out. Now be quiet, move your legs forward so your ankles are just outside the table legs, and for goodness' sake keep still.'

Maxine bent her knees and shuffled her feet up to the legs of the table. Jem watched in silent admiration as the girl's arse curved into two soft moons and parted to reveal the funnel of pink skin at the heart of the deep dark furrow, and the plump split bulge of her sex below. She whistled appreciatively with an indrawn breath, and knelt to tie a length of ribbon between the maid's legs. She tied the ends of the ribbon tightly to the ankles, but left enough slack to allow the legs to move. She moved to the other end of the table and tied Maxine's wrists in the same way.

if you don't mind me saying so, Miss,' the maid said, 'this isn't much good as an alibi. I mean, I can still move my feet, so I can get up. And I can move my hands to untie the knots.'

i'm not through yet, Maxine. Now just you make sure you keep your feet and hands on the outside of the table legs, OK, and not between them.'

Jem looped a long piece of ribbon round the girl's left elbow and left knee, and pulled it tight. She did the same on the girl's right side, and then returned to the left side to tighten the loop further. She continued like this, tightening first one side and then the other, until Maxine's hands were pulled immovably against the table's front legs, her ankles were similarly wedged against the two back legs, and her elbows and knees almost met below the right and left edges of the table. The maid's arse was now even more rounded, and her sex pouch, hanging in the air beyond the end of the table, was split open to reveal the pink and glistening inner lips.

Jem wanted to get away quickly, but she couldn't
resist
running her hands across the taut globes, drawing a fingertip down the gaping furrow, caressing the
blue-veined
tender skin between the stocking-tops and the fleshy, dark-haired lips, and then finally thrusting her gloved fingers into the pale, slick interior.

'You're very wet, Maxine,' she said, tapping the first finger of her other hand against the girl's stretched sphincter.

'Yes, Miss,' Maxine managed to say. Thank you Miss. This is lovely. And now I can't move at all.

'Good,' Jem said, slowly withdrawing her fingers, the red leather darkly stained with Maxine's secretions. 'But there's still a whole bunch of ribbon to use up. Let me see now ...'

She threaded ribbon from an uncut roll beneath the table top, and pulled it across the small of Maxine's corset-ted back; she repeated the operation several times, and pulled the ribbon as tight as she could. Maxine complained that sjie couldn't breathe. Jem took no notice, and ran more bands of ribbon across the maid's back, this time looping the material under the bands that ran between the girl's elbows and knees. When she pulled the ribbon tight, pressing her knee into Maxine's spine for maximum leverage, the girl's limbs were pulled together under the table and its legs creaked ominously under the strain.

Jem stood back to admire her work. Maxine's buttocks rose like white balloons from a cocoon of black stockings, black corset, black suspenders and a mesh of criss-crossing black ribbons. Jem put her lips to the girl's split sex, savouring the salty liquid that dripped on to her tongue, picked up her cloak, and made for the door.

BOOK: One Week in the Private House
9.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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