The Gentlemen's Club: Volume One in the 'Noire' series (4 page)

BOOK: The Gentlemen's Club: Volume One in the 'Noire' series
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“Feel free to join our eager
harem in the adjoining room Gentlemen,” concluded Mademoiselle Noire.
“Remember, their desire is beyond that of most women. Their pleasure is to
honour
yours, fulfilling every caprice, without
reservation. To deprive them of your complete dedication would be a disservice.
Those who wish to take a lady (or two or three) to the upper rooms may do so.
For the rest, we trust that you will enjoy your own performances and give each
other encouragement worthy of your efforts, and those of our ladies.”

 

She swept then from the room,
disappearing beyond the drapes, and the Gentlemen drifted off, turning their
backs on the stage, thinking now only of what was to come.

 

The African unlocked
MacCaulay’s
spreaders and untied the velvet cord that bound
him, before too leaving.
 
Surprisingly,
MacCaulay’s
rear passage was
less bruised than his pride, although he gathered his clothes with some
wincing. Wiping the worst excesses from his body with his handkerchief, he
dressed hastily, and left without a word, taking his carriage home and thus to
bed.

Chapter Four

Thoughts of Revenge

 

Unsurprisingly,
MacCaulay
did not sleep well, racked with memories of
humiliation at the hands of the beast and the woman. Returning to the Club was
now out of the question and he felt inclined to keep a low profile from all his
usual haunts, being unwilling to cross paths with any of his fellows: those who
had watched his shame with, first, glee and, then, sexual interest.

 

The thought sickened him.

 

He brooded at home, took more
than his usual token of baths, smoked and drank excessively, paced and glowered
out of the window. His sister, Cecile, with whom he shared his apartments, put
his sulkiness down to an unfulfilled love affair, and left him largely to
himself. She had plenty of distractions of her own and no need to be under his
feet.

 

However, as the days passed
and
MacCaulay’s
remembrance of that night lost some
of its harder edge, he was left not only with feelings of abasement, but of
unmistakable arousal.
 
He recalled the
commanding grip of the African upon his penis and the repugnant intrusion
behind: repugnant but devastatingly stimulating. The excitement caught in his
throat. No less rousing was the image of that she-devil, with her harpy mouth
around his cock. How he’d like to choke her with it, or take that crop of hers
and thrash her to within an inch of her life. This led to thoughts of the
figure beneath her costume. He imagined full breasts with dark nipples, the
whip leaving livid marks against the tender flesh. It would be no less than she
deserved.

 

To appease the strange desire
evoked by these memories and to soothe his injured ego, he sought out a ‘night
butterfly’ in a dark alley, intending to take her roughly up against the wall,
releasing some of his pent anger and frustration. To his discomfort, he was
unable to raise an adequate erection, and the trollop laughed in his face,
shaking down her skirts and strutting off with a toss of the head, as well as
his shilling in her pocket.

 

His desire for revenge
simmered steadily, until the only answer was to return to the scene of his
degradation. He must
endeavour
to achieve a private
audience with that Queen of the Night, so that he might humble her as she had
him, by whatever means presented.

 

It was a full week before he
steeled himself to return.

Chapter Five

Fit for Royalty

 

As he entered the salon, he
found there was not a seat to be had. It seemed that Mademoiselle
Noire’s
performances had gained acclaim; all were eager to
witness her invention.
 
MacCaulay
was obliged to stand at the back of the room,
near the door.

 

He was just in time to see
Mademoiselle enter, leading a girl by the hand. The woman he had come to think
of as Medusa wore a dress similar to that of the previous night, but in deepest
violet rather than black
;
it was a shade which set off
the auburn in her hair to great advantage. Meanwhile, her dress bore a lower
décolleté, so that the curve of her breasts was more apparent. Beside her, the
blindfolded girl stood meekly, the fairest blonde hair piled upon her dainty
head. She was cloaked in a cape of pale blue silk, which she gripped tightly
about her.

 

“Tonight Gentlemen,” began
Mademoiselle Noire, her voice dripping with erotic
promise,“I
am delighted to introduce
Hetty
. She is new to our
harem and is making her first appearance tonight, in
honour
of a special guest soon joining us.”

 

She then lifted the cloak
from the girl’s shoulders, removing it with a flourish, to reveal her pale
nakedness. The girl moved her hand to cover her pubis.

 

She was in the bloom of
youth, when mere prettiness is the utmost beauty, being soft and fresh, with no
need of embellishment. Her skin was luminous. Her breasts were pleasingly pert,
and would offer an adequate handful, if not large, each topped with a rosebud
nipple almost indiscernible from the milky flesh. Her figure was slight, yet
curving to the hip in the way that is most pleasing to men. Her legs, though
not long, were sculpted just as they should be. She was a worthy addition
indeed, perfect in her radiance.

 


Hetty
is aware of the distinction of being chosen this night and, though a little shy,
is delighted to know that her first performance is to be with one so
illustrious … we might even say regal.”

 

Mademoiselle’s words hung in
the air. It seemed that a member of the royal family, albeit perhaps some
distant cousin, would be taking his pleasure.
 

 

Mademoiselle Noire guided
Hetty
to a padded divan, where she bid her lay back in
comfort. Her sweet cunny was adorned in the palest gold of coverings.

 

“Hide not your treasure my
dear. The candlelight is illuminating you to best advantage, and it is only
fitting that the many eyes tonight upon you be allowed to devour your most
beautiful aspect,” Mademoiselle assured her.

 

She took then a long ostrich
feather and ran its soft blade up the girl’s leg, from ankle, to the top of her
inner thigh, lightly across her mossy garden, up her torso and across her
breasts. The girl shivered, perhaps in anticipation, perhaps from some small
draught in the room.

 

Mademoiselle lifted a
decanter of claret from the table beside her and poured the liquid, darkest
red, over
Hetty’s
breasts, so that the droplets lay
in stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. The liquid ran down and pooled
between the girl’s orbs, and on her stomach. Replacing the decanter,
Mademoiselle then bent her head with great deliberation to the girl’s nipple,
lowering her mouth upon it, to suck gently thereupon. The girl gasped in
surprise and responded immediately, her legs widening and her back arching a
little. Mademoiselle suckled droplets from both nipples,
then
licked the mound of the girl’s breasts and the button of her rounded belly.

 

Afterwards, she stood at the
end of the divan and poured the claret onto the girl’s pubis, so that the wine clung
between the golden hairs and dripped down her labia and inner thighs.
 
Mademoiselle drew up a footstool and
knelt between
Hetty’s
legs, dipping her head and
inserting a probing tongue with utmost delicacy, as if licking the fondant from
a cake.
Hetty
wriggled somewhat at this sensation,
and lifted her legs, so that her cunny was better placed to accept the ministrations
of Mademoiselle’s mouth - which sucked the soft folds of her secret place.

 

Our mistress of theatre did
not remain long at her work but, on standing,
Hetty’s
cunny had clearly bloomed as intended, her peony now full and open, revealing
the darker inner recesses and the nub of her pleasure mount.
Hetty
sighed as she felt the warm tongue leave its duties.
Never was a girl more ready for plucking than this ripe fruit.

 

“I have tasted the eternal fountain
Gentlemen.”

 

Mademoiselle’s words curled through
the air like fingers about the neck of a lover.

 

The crimson drapes at the end
of the room then parted, to reveal the awaited guest. His costume was nothing
if not theatrical: scarlet velvet britches to the knee, legs and feet
bare
, as was his chest. A large piece of fabric had been
removed from the front of his trousers, so that his genitals were visible. In
some degree of excitement, his organ was already almost fully erect, bobbing
before him as he walked. Besides an open waistcoat of red velvet, trimmed in
ermine, he wore short black leather gloves and a black hood, which covered his whole
head, although with small openings for his nose, mouth and eyes.
MacCaulay
perused the size of the man’s phallus and
commended its shape and inclination to memory, in case he should ever encounter
it in one of London’s bathhouses and be able to identify the bearer.

 

Approaching the girl, the
guest claimed a pot of honey from beside the claret and, using his gloved
finger, traced each areola of her nipple with the syrup.
 
His mouth then fell somewhat greedily to
its task of suckling the sweetness, like a hungry infant seeking its mother’s
lactating breast. As he did so, one leather gloved hand held her belly and the
other the girl’s forehead.

 

He repeated the action
several times, bringing
Hetty
to delightful squirms
of pleasure. It was a technique of which
MacCaulay
made mental note.
 
The royal guest
then placed more honey upon the girl’s lips and gave her a kiss of great
gentleness, carefully sucking her full mouth until the honey was all but gone
and she had only to lick the remainder for herself.
 
This he repeated three times, creating
an atmosphere of strange intimacy.
 

 

Leaving the girl’s lips, now
flushed with nibbling and sucking, he proceeded to her mount, carefully inserting
his gloved fingers within. It was not long before
Hetty
was brought to a state familiar, gently moaning, lifting her buttocks to his
touch and rotating her pelvis against his hand in a most wanton manner. Her
juices glistened between her legs and the smell of her sex wafted through the
room. As she approached her crisis, he removed his fingers and lifted her
buttocks high, one hand firmly under each cheek, so that his phallus entered
her dripping cunny with utmost ease.

 

Once ensconced in her
welcoming folds, he set about pumping her in worthy fashion, at last giving
full vent to desire, withholding nothing of his prowess.
 
His action met with the girl’s approval,
inspiring her to wrap her legs about him and raise herself to full extent,
moving against his groin with each thrust. Amidst her moans and his grunts,
growing now louder, the pair burst forth in happy coincidence, reaching the
peak of paradise at the precise same moment.
Hetty
gave full voice to her ecstasy, with a series of squeals and sighs, providing
the sweetest evidence of her fulfillment.

 

At this, the company, one man
and all, stood to applaud the girl – and her suitor – for their
charming and inspiring performance.
 
The hooded guest bent once more to kiss
Hetty
upon the lips and then departed.

Chapter Six

Punishment

 

Throughout the seduction of
Hetty
, Mademoiselle Noire had avoided
MacCaulay’s
eye, so it was with some surprise that he received her invitation via the Master
of Ceremonies, informing him that the lady sought his company for a private
audience. Consenting readily, and wondering if his chance for retribution were
to be presented so easily,
MacCaulay
was led not
upstairs, as he might have expected, but down, towards the very cellars of the
building.

 

There, in a room so dark that
it took some moments for his eyes to adjust, he became aware of Mademoiselle
reposed upon a chaise, no longer wearing her evening gown, but a negligee of
finest silk chiffon, tied in front by a single ribbon. As he approached, she stood,
lifting an oil lamp beside her, so that its glow half illuminated her features.
Her guipure lace mask remained about her eyes. The dull flicker of the flame
revealed the upper curve of her body, in silhouette beneath the flimsy material
of her gown. The room was damp and chill, so that
MacCaulay
wondered at her removing so much clothing. Nevertheless, she stood with utmost
composure, as if in the warmest of chambers.

BOOK: The Gentlemen's Club: Volume One in the 'Noire' series
9.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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