Past Present (8 page)

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Authors: Secret Narrative

Tags: #bdsm, #contemporary erotica, #older man younger woman, #spanking, #voyeurism, #group sex, #threesome, #anal sex, #oral sex

BOOK: Past Present
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“Oh, Matty, what am I going to do with you? You’re insatiable.”

“I know, Puss, isn’t it wonderful?” he said, moving into the room and closing the oak door behind him. “Totally soundproof, splendid.”

“You’ve only been away a day and a night.”

“As I said…” Matthew cut of his own speech, bending to her, crushing his mouth against hers in a fierce embrace. “Did you like my little notes?” He pulled away, studying her face, red marks already livid on the pale skin of her chin.

“They were…interesting and stimulating.”

“Did you follow my orders, exactly? Every one?”

“Yes,” Eleanor whispered, her eyes fixed on his, the emerald of his irises seemed to spark and dance as he considered her answer.

“Did you make a recording?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s watch.”

“What about the men? They’re still finishing off, and they’re all over the house.”

“Eleanor, the men are of no concern to me, and they should not be of any consideration to you. They will get on with their work, which should not take them to this part of the house since it is complete. However, the foreman knows where we are, and if he wishes to come looking, so be it.”

“Very well, Matthew, as you wish.”

Eleanor set the recording in motion while Matthew settled himself into an armchair.

“Sit here on my lap, Puss, I want to play while we watch. I hope you’re naked underneath that dress. As requested in the note you should have found this morning.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Well then, let’s see how you got along shall we?”

Matthew pressed the button to summon sound and vision while the image of the girl on his lap, filled the screen.

Eleanor had fashioned a dildo from a root of ginger, leaving a suitable piece to grab at one end. A trickle of alarm warned that she must be able to retract the root at any time. She had seen far too many accidents when working at the hospital and there was no way she intended to be the victim of sex-play gone wrong and the subject of dinner party stories for the staff. No, she would be careful to carry out Matthew’s wishes without risk of losing the root somewhere up her rectum.

Choosing a slim, black, dildo from the array that she and Matthew stored, she took her booty along to the Diary Room. Making sure the equipment was set to record from all angles she placed the carved root, dildo and a small tube of lube in full view on the table.

“I’m sure that piece of wood has had many things set on its surface through the years,” she said aloud. The ancient piece was part of their collection of carefully selected furniture for the period property.

Stepping out of her trousers, she pulled her sweater off over her head, shaking her ponytail free. Completely naked, she turned to face the main lens. She felt as if she were a dancer at a peep show, in the centre of a round stage surrounded by booths. In the Diary Room, cameras served as the eyes of voyeurs and Eleanor was fully aware that she would be making films, which may not necessarily be for Matthew’s pleasure alone. Nevertheless, this first recording was experimental, and she doubted it would be used for anything other than personal entertainment and for analysis. The Diary Room was destined to serve their clients, as well as themselves.

“I shall insert the little ginger root first.” She smiled into the camera, before turning around in the chair, positioned for full frontal lens. Pointing her round bottom forward, she reached back and inched the root into her anus, a little at a time.

“It feels cool at the moment,” she commentated. “It’s fully in, ah, it’s warming,” she continued, reaching for the black dildo. “I won’t need the lube, I’m wet, I’m wet for you my darling, only for you, I shall plug my molten pussy, drenched with need, with the toy. Wishing, wishing, wishing that it was your hot, hard cock, plunging deep, deep inside me.”

Slipping the dildo into her pussy, Eleanor switched it on, kneeling to give the forward lens full access to her round bottom, plugged with root, and the round, black base of the dildo which had all but disappeared.

Watching the monitors, the room filled with her image, over and over again as she moved her ginger sodden fingers to her nub, knowing that she herself would be the instigator of her torture. The burning intensifying inside her would be met and matched by the fire at her clitoris.

“The root burns, burning deep within me.” Breathless, Eleanor moved to recline, allowing the ginger to get to work, the dry heat so fierce that she felt as if she were floating, far, far away from the room. Her body, suspended above as she looked from the ceiling down onto the luxurious furnishings and her own shell, going through the motions for the cameras. Suddenly, her dreaming self, spies another couple, a pair from long ago, wearing clothing that she had seen during her research, and she realises she is fantasising as she brings herself to orgasm for her love, her only love….

“My God, you look divine.” Matthew breathes in her ear, his fingers dally on her, stroking her silken inner thigh, seeking the treasure he craves.

His cock hard underneath her bottom, they watch her recorded self masturbate a number of times, plugged with the dildo and ginger, listening to her recital.

“You enjoyed it my love, I adore recording everything, that way every little detail is available to share, and we learn so much about what turns you on, and ultimately what excites you, makes you hot. I need to know everything about you, Eleanor, everything.”

Gently pushing her off his lap, he opens his zipper. “Kneel and finish me, while I watch the rest of your glorious film.” He offers his erection to her lips and she opens as if she were a bird in the nest for feeding. Taking him deep into her throat, she sucks and works him. One hand a gentle fist on his shaft, helping him in and out, the fingers of her other, firmly on the nub at the core of her as she brings herself to climax just as his ejaculation completes her mission and she swallows with love.

“Magnificent,” says Matthew. “Both of you.” He nods towards the screen and back at Eleanor, sitting on her haunches at his feet. “Dreamlike, you look as if you are possessed.”

“Yes, I had the strangest experience in here that day. I shall do more research.”

“Ghosts?” he laughs out loud.

“Ghosts,” she agrees, certain that there are stories to unearth; she intends to unbury the dead.

“Shall we go and have breakfast, and afterwards, will you come into town with me? I’d like to do a little shopping.”

Eleanor, pussy a little slippery in the afterglow, her mind teeming, her body tingling, follows Matthew along the long gallery, walking as always alongside the window lined walls. Approaching the couple on the panelled side of the passage is the Site Manager, a sheaf of paper in his hand, brandished like a sword.

“Ah, Mr Fletcher, can you spare a moment?” he calls as soon as they are in earshot.

“Certainly, Eddie. Go on ahead, Eleanor, I’ll meet you in the morning room.”

Eleanor suppresses a shiver of distaste, which involuntarily fizzes her senses, whenever Eddie is nearby, and hurries away.

Eleanor’s Journal: A Meeting

Settled in the morning room, Eleanor took up her pen and recalling every detail of her dream, committed it to paper. If Matthew approved, she would add it to the Falconworth website.

oOo

“It’s too dangerous, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Why? You want me do you not?”

“Yea, oh my darling girl, yea, you know I do. How could I deny you? Deny us? I think we have been connected from birth. God help me.”

The priest crossed himself, the rough cloth of his brown robe scratching against his body, and the finger dragged in the sign of the cross. He had not donned the luxurious silk garments he usually wore beneath, both as penance and, God help him, for freedom.”

“You love me?”

The girl pressed urgently against him, his cock iron hard, tenting the cassock.

“I do. God help me. You know I do.”

“Take me then. Take me, here, take me now. I am yours. I am yours until doom.”

The girl slid to her knees, at his feet, bare toes, dusty in his expensive, leather sandals.

“Even your toes are beautiful.”

He knew it was true. He had heard talk. “Rarely has a finer man walked at Falconworth than Father Mathieu,” opined many. In common with others called to serve God, Father Mathieu enjoyed the trappings of a cosseted life. His servitude to the Lord via the Priesthood had been arranged from birth, being the second son, born into a titled family. However, in following is duty, he had not denied himself the trappings of the wealth he had become accustomed to as he grew from boy to man. Nevertheless, nothing had prepared him for the onslaught of Leonora’s lust, manifested from the moment their eyes met. Shaken to the core, his precarious faith had crumbled away as if it had never existed. Now, when he prayed, all he could see was Leonora, her face, her lovely face and her lips, full, and as perfect a colour as the bloom of the reddest rose. Father Mathieu was lost, forever lost, his lust hardened cock a mockery to his softened resistance. Dragging himself back to the present, looking down at the golden halo of hair presented as she worshiped at his feet.

“We must find a way to leave this place. I and others see that you have enchanted the young master. If he takes a fancy to pluck you, he will have you. If he wants you, he will have you, and there is naught I can do to protect you. Except turn away from my God and hurry you from here.”

“Yea, my love, verily.”

“Sssh, I hear people abroad. Rise now. Come hither. We must part. Fare-the-well, I shall meet you at the boating lake at dusk. Remain in this place, I shall slip out. If I am seen, nothing will seem amiss. The small altar provides every reason for my presence. Hide in the alcove, there, perchance whoever it is may think to look closer yet. Prithee, meet me anon, my darling, anon.”

Father Mathieu let himself out of the secret room and made his way towards the gallery. Sure enough, coming towards him, he spied Edmund, the Master’s son. Few men crueller in the whole of Falconworth and few men possessed of darker desires. His own soul already lost, the priest dare not meet the other man’s eye as he hurried along, keeping close to the window lined wall while the other walked alongside the tapestries hanging the length of the wall.

“How now, Father Mathieu? What brings you creeping around the house at this early hour?”

“Prayers for the village sick. I thought to visit with her ladyship, to beg alms.”

“I’ll wager you thought so, hmmm.” Edmund’s eyes seemed to bore their way into Father Mathieu’s soul, and the worm of certainty that the young master knew his secret wriggled his veins, twisting his nerves, taut as if to snap.

“Good morrow to you sir, I shall be on my way,” said Father Mathieu, seeking to hide guilt with a show of indifference.

“I may say a few prayers myself,” said Edmund, glancing towards the priest’s room.

“As you wish, and adieu,” replied Father Mathieu. The worm of fear now had a twin, which itself multiplied, the crawling maggot of terror, festered within him as he rushed out into the fresh air. Fully afraid for the first time in his life, in the knowledge that God had deserted him at the first sign of his weak lust, and his blackened soul, the vessel of his undoing. For even as he fled to the safety of his dwelling, his cock hardened at the thought of the golden girl, so recently crouched at his feet, ready to do his bidding.

“I love her, God help me.” Reaching sanctuary, he fell to his knees, sprawled against his pallet, head bowed, hands clasped in prayer above his head. He prayed to God. “Father forgive me, for I have sinned,” and he vowed to stop all dalliances, and commit himself once more to his calling. Stripping off his robe, and standing naked in the centre of his single room, scourge in hand, he whipped hard. First, over one shoulder, and then the other, alternating, harder and faster, faster and harder. Although not fervently religious, Father Mathieu’s flagellation both scourged his soul, prepared him for full penance, and made his cock ache. As the knotted leather cut into his skin again and again, the satisfaction of penance coupled with the ejaculation that had threatened from the moment Leonora crouched at his feet and he fell to his knees, bloodied and sticky, the evidence of his weakness causing utter misery. He cried in pain and shame.

oOo

“Come hither, come hither wherever you are…I know you’re there you little minx…I shall fish you from your hole, or you can come out of your own accord. But I warn you… If I have to dirty my doublet reaching into that pit, you shall pay for your defiance. Come hither and all is well. You are in no trouble, sweeting.”

Unable to hold her breath any longer, Leonora coughed and choked her way out of the hiding place, revealing herself, dusting down her kirtle, a cobweb hung from her flaxen hair, her face and hands black with smudges.

“You look as if you have been in the chimney.” Edmund laughed out loud, the sound booming off the walls, ricocheting in the confined space. “How I wish I could show you. What were you doing down there? Do you not have chores enough?”

“I came to clean, my Lord. If it please, my Lord, and, I…” the girl coughed a little, “…I…thought I heard a movement. Mice, my Lord, if it please, my Lord?” Dismay coloured her face as the pitiful lies caused a fresh bout of raucous laughter.

“It displeases ‘My Lord,’” he mimicked. “It displeases him mightily to see yon beauty in disarray and to hear black lies drip from your honeyed tongue. A-dallying with the priest, I’ll be bound.” His final accusation, whispered, hissed, the sss sound slicing through the air like the swish of the executioner’s sword. The girl felt a shadow walk across her grave, and the room cooled to freezing.

Eleanor’s Task: Collared Puss

My darling... I’m so excited by this new aspect of our lovely relationship. My darling, Puss. I want you to be my pussy. Go to a pet shop; pick out a lovely collar, preferably red. You look lovely in red. With studs or not, but as delicate as possible. Have it etched with the word, ‘Puss’. Buy a leash, a fine chain with a leather handle. When you get home, strip naked, put on the collar and leash and get on all fours. Imagine I am standing beside you. Sheathe your claws; take my cock in your mouth. Imagine sucking my cock while you masturbate...With my love always and forever, your, M.

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