Connie's rectum expands as the pressure increases, much to her chagrin. As I tie off the end, I say, "We do this in order that such a tight space can be adapted to admit a sizeable object. Were we to force such an object in initially, she would be torn and swollen, not a difficulty in itself, but it would prohibit use of the orifice for some time, depriving the Master or Mistress of much pleasure. Give me your ribbon."
The woman with black curls whom I point at unties her hair and hands me the pink ribbon, which I affix to the end of the tube. The satin ribbon dangles down between Connie's legs.
"I require volunteers."
All hands raise into the air.
I select two for the stage to hold Connie's arms out and two for the floor, to hold her legs apart, giving them precise instructions about holding her with equal strength on pain of punishment.
Meg has an abundant quality of soft hemp handy. I utilize one of the support beams across the ceiling and toss one end of each rope over top. I do this with several lengths, tying the loose ends under Mrs. Wilcox until she is supported by hemp criss-crossing like a hammock at chest, waist and hips. When she is secure in this makeshift sling, I instruct the women holding her to release her.
She moans a bit. The arrangement is relatively comfortable, considering it is all there is to work with. It will have to do.
From this hammock, her head, arms, and legs from the waist down drape towards the floor. "Now, Mrs. Wilcox, since your ass requires the attention of a man, and since no man has obviously paid it much attention of late, I shall see to it that you are kept waiting no longer."
I unhook the tawse from my belt and slap it in the air several times. The sound causes Connie to tremble. Still, though, I sense she does not believe this tool will have much effect on her. Clearly, she judges the whiny Louise not of her calibre, but the proof is in the pudding, as they say. "I require one to hold her steady at the shoulders," I tell my assistants, and the woman with the dark curls volunteers. The others I send off the stage.
Without delay, I proceed to work on the cheeks of Inspector Wilcox's wife.
The new leather cracks hard against her ass again and again. I have no patience now, tired of these callously insatiable women and men of late. It is the virgin I want and if I must blister every bottom in the room this night to reach her, I shall, and I shall run through them quickly.
Constance Wilcox is soon screaming, but I do not let up. I mean to send her home to her husband with a message printed on her hide. Her bottom colors nicely and is quickly brick red in the center where the tawse strikes repeatedly. I will save the outer cheeks for later. For now I wish to set one spot on fire.
Out of the corner of my eye I see the ladies looking up at the stage are awe struck and envious. Clearly each would like to substitute her bottom for the one I am licking so well. The scent filling the air is heavy sex, caused by intense secretions. I glance at Ursula. She is transfixed. Her nipples are hard, begging for my thorough and undivided attention. My stiff cock aches to relieve himself with her.
Connie has been wailing, "Stop! Please, Master Hyde! I beg of you, no more. I can't take any more."
Her tone is unconvincing. "You must listen not to the words," I tell my roomful of lusty students, but the real meaning. For example," I whack Connie mercilessly, "Mrs. Wilcox, are you not really saying, 'More, Master Hyde, I beg of you, give me the chastisement I've been longing for which my husband cannot provide.'"
Connie groans in an exaggerated manner, then screams, "Yes!"
My hand does not let up.
"Surely you're tiring," one woman says.
"Not at all. An enjoyable job is easy to do. And Mrs. Wilcox's flesh will soften before my arm muscles. We shall know the precise moment."
"It's been twenty minutes," someone else points out, her voice awed.
"A short time, by any credible Master's standards."
More time passes. "I've never seen such a hard licking," someone murmurs, and the whiny Louise pulls the bit from her mouth to add, "Mistress Meg spanks me on occasion for half an hour, but there are breaks in between, and it's only with her hand."
"Then your Mistress is weak. You need a proper hiding. If I were to redden your behind, it would be from sunset to sunrise, and you would feel a variety of implements, each worse than the one before. Sitting, as you are doing now, on such a highly polished bottom would be impossible. You need whipping on a regular basis."
Just as the hour strikes, there is a sharp pop. I cease the whipping at once. Constance is beyond the resistive state where she began. Her body convulses as she screams out her orgasm. The balloon-like tube has been crushed by the violence of her anal contractions.
The women stand in awed silence as Connie cries, "Master Hyde! Oh, my true Master. Thank you, sir, thank you."
I leave her with the women, who question her fully. Her face has taken on the blissful look of an angel, howbeit streaked with the moisture of a gallon of tear. Her bottom, now dangling in the air as she lies balanced on the stool, sports two fiery red circles, glowing like sunset and sunset, far deeper than her crimson hair.
I make my way down to the floor, to Ursula, Jekyll's voice in the background, warning me away with a hiss. Her face is priceless. She has a look of utter and exquisite longing blended with terror. This is the look of a virgin who both seeks such wild abandon and yet longs to avoid it at all costs.
"Did you get an eyeful, Ursula?" My hand cups her chin.
She stares up at me, the hairs around her face damp, her violet eyes big and round, her pretty little nose tilted up at the tip, those cherry lips parted as if waiting to be parted further. "Yes," she manages.
"Do you not recall my name, even though you have heard Mrs. Wilcox utter it so many times tonight?"
"It is Mr. Hyde."
"Master Hyde. You are young and do not know better, and so this time I shall excuse you. Henceforth, though, I shall not be as lenient. You will call me Master Hyde from now on, especially seeing as you will soon belong to me legally and I shall be your Master in many ways."
Her face is started, but she says, "Master Hyde."
I stand close to her face and lower the leather pouch that holds my hot erect cock and tight balls. Jekyll begins a protest in earnest, but I am immune to his threats. Ursula is startled by the size of my member. Clearly he excites her but I can see she does not know what to do with him.
"Do you like what you see, Ursula?"
"Oh, yes, Master Hyde."
"Close your eyes, then. You will keep them closed until I order you to open them. Is that clear?"
She does so obediently, saying, "Yes, Master Hyde," in the sweetest voice.
I guide my cock to her mouth. Her lips pucker as though she expects to be kissed. Surprise creases her face. These are not lips and her parting lips must open wider to make way for my swollen manhood.
Her hot mouth surrounds me as my flesh slides easily into her. Her brow creases in consternation: no doubt she is terrified by my length and thickness; she fears I may be too large for her to accommodate me. This brings a smile to my face. She is so innocent. So completely unexplored.
"Allow your throat to open, Ursula, and receive your Master fully," I instruct her. At the same time I take her head in my hands and guide her in a back and forth motion as I thrust into her rhythmically.
Her mouth is hot and moist, receptive.
Jekyll threatens me ...with bodily harm, and I laugh at him.
"Lick my cock with your tongue," I tell her.
She obeys. Her tongue slides over the underside of my shaft and up around the top, licking, stroking, as I thrust into her.
She has followed my directions perfectly. Her lips are firm around my shaft, her tongue active, her throat open, taking me in deep.
"You like this, don't you, Ursula? To be used by me for my pleasure? To submit to my desires? When we are wed, I shall summon you both day and night to submit. You will be at my beck and call and live in a state of ecstasy w
hich you have never contemplated. All this, once I own you fully."
I decide to reward this hungry obedient virgin with a taste she will not soon forget. A foretaste of many meals to come. Her first.
"We shall see about ecstasy," Meg Utterson says, suddenly behind Ursula, yanking her back.
Cold air shocks my cock before he can expel his gift. Jekyll utters a cry of relief. I am furious. "Watch yourself, woman, or you'll receive a good hiding! This girl has agreed to my proposal. She is as much mine as if we were wed this night."
"Ursula will make up her mind whom to wed in due course. For now it is important she get to know the range of your talents. How else to make a proper choice."
"Choice! There is no other."
"That, too, remains to be seen, Master Hyde. Come. Don't be stubborn. You are here for another purpose as well, and while Constance recovers, examine bits and pieces of my humble equipment, for example, the chair which Ursula sits in. We call it The Virgin's Seat. Tell Master Hyde, Ursula, is the chair comfortable?"
Ursula, obedient neophyte that she is, still has her eyes closed. "You may open your eyes," I tell her. She blinks those violet orbs as if waking from sleep and, once she sees me and my tall fellow, smiles.
"The chair is not uncomfortable, but the carpet stimulates me so, Master Hyde. As you were spanking Mrs. Wilcox, I found myself prickled here, there and everywhere and could hardly bear it!"
"Isn't she delightful," Meg says.
"Indeed," I concur. Even Jekyll is speechless, for once, touched by Ursula's trusting nature.
Meg grips Ursula by the shoulders and pulls her forward. The girl gasps as she falls. Further, Meg pushes her head to the floor, which lifts her bottom up, then raises up her skirt. Now I can see this contraption, and ingenious it is. A round section of Ursula's white bottom is wedged tightly through the large hole in the seat. Her anus and vaginal lips are pink and moist and the wool has done much to bring that state about. I suspect my show has also contributed. The puckered tender flesh holes are so inviting, plumped out as they are like lips waiting for kisses. Those holes resemble hungry mouths and call to my cock to feed them until they are full. I cannot restrain myself. I pull the gloves from my hands to caress that exquisite bottom.
Suddenly Meg pushes Ursula upright. The girl's face is flushed. Clearly she is embarrassed and yet not entirely so. Her look is one of having given pleasure mingled with a desire to add to it. I sense that whatever I require of her, she will be more than eager to attempt.
"Come, Master Hyde," Meg says. "Constance is nearly her old self again, and the ladies are waiting."
With reluctance, I slip my hands into my leather gloves and head back to the stage, aware that I am performing tricks entirely for Ursula's benefit. I wish to display my skills that I may win her heart and her eager, ripe flesh, so in need of penetration.
Jekyll snarls, You have no hope in hell, Hyde!, but I dismiss him. He can no more control the outcome of my liaisons with Ursula than he could control my appearance this night. For it seems that the drug is no longer a requirement for my dominant personality to emerge. Jekyll and I fought it out and I won. He is subordinate, now, and shall be forever more.
On the stage, Mrs. Wilcox indeed looks perky. Her smile is inviting, laced with adoration. I shall enjoy her, of that I have no fear. I shall enjoy each of these beauties. My cock is still exposed for all to see, full to bursting with hot juices, more than enough for all. But none can match Ursula, of that I am certain.
Jekyll's voice, an impotent cry in my ears this evening, can no longer hold sway, if ever it did. I will have Ursula and enjoy her at my leisure and Jekyll cannot stop me.
I find the thin leather-covered cane in my bag. "Hold her," I point to one of the others. The woman I've selected hurries onto the stage and braces her hands against Constance's shoulders so that I may apply another dose of the exquisite pain Mrs. Wilcox so loves to receive.
I position myself beside her hips, ready to cane her bottom.
"Why there?" Meg asks. "Surely she will be immune to a whipping on an already well-punishment area."
"Quite the contrary, madam. It is the diversity of tools that makes the difference. Lift your skirt and bend."
Meg looks resistant. This is contrary to her role as head Mistress. But the others are watching and she knows that if she is to continue to engage my services this night and provide these ladies with a show they will not easily forget, she must comply.
Her ass when exposed to the air is fleshy and wide, with plenty of striking area. Meg has interfered with my plans regarding Ursula. I direct a bit of fury towards her and give her a hard sound crack across each cheek with the tawse. She gasps, no longer accustomed to such stinging flesh. A second later the hide-covered cane whooshes through the air and lands smartly across her ass cheeks again. She gasps louder and jumps. "You may lower your skirt," I say, wanting to taunt her only, for the moment. A mere taste of the fare to come, a roast perhaps bitter to her palate but one which she will learn to if not enjoy, at least to digest.
She stands. Her face and neck are flushed. Her eyes shine with a semblance of humility plus anger. "I see what you're getting at," she says curtly.
I turn back to Connie Wilcox. As I hop onto the stage, I focus on her bottom. The swing allows it drape nicely. It is that area where the ass cheeks meet the backs of the thighs which concerns me. Because I concentrated on one small patch of flesh only, most of her bottom is still wanting color. But the night is young. Jekyll is incommunicado. Before morning she will glow like the fire in an oven.
I raise the cane and bring it down expertly across that line that has likely never received a cane before. The bamboo whirls through the air again, bending a bit, only to strike the crease. I give her ten in quick succession and already she is begging me to stop. "Oh, Master Hyde, this is far worse than the tawse. Please sir, I submit to your will. No more."
"Then my will is this." I give her another ten.
Now she screams in earnest. Her body jerks and twists, struggling to avoid the black clad cane, which finds her another ten times. Soon that line is far redder than the Cinnabar markings at the center of her cheeks. The quiver of her flesh is appealing and I want to see it jiggle faster.
The cane finds that swelling line twenty more times. Now she is delirious, begging me to do with her what I will, an offer too good to resist.
My cock is straining to ram into her and like a wild creature acting by instinct alone, he finds her bottom hole and enters quickly.
Constance buckles and arches and clamps her muscles down, spasming instantly. Her rectum is now good and tight in a receptive way and I thrust in and out of her until she moans again, begging me, "Take me Hyde, the way my husband cannot!" This is music to my ears.
I fuck her hard and quick, gripping her hips, my strokes deep inside her slick asshole. Energy coalesces in my balls and tingles through them, building steadily, soon shooting up through my cock in one powerful spurt.
My cum blasts into Connie, filling her ass the way I want to fill Ursula. A quick glance down tells me my darling has watched every thrust with great intensity, imagining her own bottom so primed and receptive. The look on her face is heartbreaking. She longs to be taken and her yearning is painful. Ursula sits in frustration, her eager little bottom poking through The Virgin's Seat, only to be stimulated by the fur of lambs. I cannot leave her so needy.
I dig in my bag and find my bullwhip and leap from the stage. Jekyll shouts, out of control. You shall discontinue whatever diabolical plan you are entertaining, and cease this minute! I know if he could get his hands 'round my throat, I would be a dead man destined for his dissection table.
"What are you up to now, Hyde?" Meg demands.
"A little foreplay only, and you may chaperon. Ursula must not be left to suffer so."
My darling gives me a confused look and yet I can see that she is grateful something will come her way.
I stand so that I am about five feet fro
m her, the length of the whip. I swing the whip above my head and crack it. The knotted cord cuts the air with a sound that produces instant silence in the room.
"This instrument can be used in many ways," I tell the ladies, who have crowded around, but at a safe distance. "I can slice nearly through a man's arm and deliver excruciating pain."
I crack the whip quickly and snap off five of the buttons encircling Ursula's right breast in quick succession. I move to her other side and do the same with five buttons along her left breast. Back and forth I go, tearing the buttons from the garment with the whip, my aim so sure that my darling's flesh has not once been struck by this, one of my fiercest instruments of pain. The women in the room marvel at my speed and accuracy. Ursula trusts me implicitly. Her face is sweetly receptive and were I to cut her tender flesh this, too, she would accept. Her nipples are hard, pressed against the flaps that now hang by one button each, at the top. These two buttons are all that permits the fabric to hide her breasts.
I leap onto the stage again and twirl the whip above my head dramatically, cracking the air. "Do you trust me, Ursula?"
"Yes, Master Hyde."
I snake the whip forward, snapping one button. The flap falls, revealing her right breasts. The flesh is creamy, the breast itself full and round. Her tit has never had lips surrounding it, teeth nipping into it; all in the room can see that. I snap the whip again and cut off the other button. Instantly, the flap slides down, revealing her other breast, a perfect bosom, perfect and fragile as fresh-poured pavement, awaiting a print to mark ownership.
Once more I leave the stage, this time sauntering, taking the steps slowly, building tension. My cock is erect again. The sight of Ursula, so perfect, waiting so patiently to be fulfilled has affected me.
The room is hushed. The air tense. I take a position about where I began with the bullwhip. All that can be heard or felt is Jekyll, his desperation, his frustration, his impotency.
My own potency rages even as his cock is no doubt shriveled.
Ursula looks at me lovingly, longingly. A trace of fear mingles with her desires.
The Darker Passions Page 11