Cavern of Pleasures Trio

by Brown, Em

  She stared at the long thickness pointed at her. Licking her lips, she said, “Would you fuck me with your cock, Sir?”

  He closed his eyes and groaned. His ears had never been graced with sweeter words. Positioning his cock near her quim, he rubbed it first along her folds to coat it with the salve. He slapped at her clitoris with his cock. She wiggled in her bindings and moaned. He rubbed himself more vigorously against her.

  “Yes, yes,” she encouraged.

  Although her thighs were spread wide, it seemed she attempted to open her legs more to improve the area of exposure. When he sensed her agitated frenzy approaching a peak, he stepped away. He had not given her permission to spend.

  “Please,” she gasped. “Please fuck me, Sir.”

  Montague attempted to calm the rapid beating of his heart. How glorious that she enjoyed her own body and had no reservations asking – nay, demanding – her desires. Her boldness heated an already scalding desire pounding within him.

  As if their roles were reversed and she had become the mistress, she stared him in the eyes and said, “Sink your cock into my cunnie, Sir. I wish to feel you hard and thick inside me.”

  How warm and airless these quarters felt! He could not restrain himself after hearing such words or he would die of suffocation. He pushed his cock into her cunnie. She cried out in gratification. Encased by her hot, wet womanhood, he could have shot his load within seconds. He remained motionless, taking in several breaths, as he forced back the wave of his climax. She wickedly flexed her muscles about his cock and squirmed. He gasped and dug his grip into the wooden board. He intended she should climax before him, and spending quickly would cede the balance of power to her. Gritting his teeth, he envisioned the Earl of Frotham and the loss of Chelton. Twenty thousand pounds was at stake, he reminded himself. As well as his manhood.

  When he had regained control, he slowly slid his cock back. Holding onto the wooden board behind her, his chest a hair’s length from her breasts, he returned her stare. Time for a little set down. He pushed his cock into her.

  “Ohhh...” she moaned.

  He slid out until only the head remained inside of her, then slammed into her, burying himself deep inside her cunnie. She cried out in surprise. He thrust more deliberately, ensuring that he rubbed along her clitoris with every motion. She groaned her delight. Constrained by the bindings, she had little mobility in her hips, but there was little she could do under the force of his movements and was content to receive his assaults. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the chamber, interspersed with her cries.

  He grunted a reminder in her ear. “Not yet, Baroness.”

  She gave a despairing moan. Remembering how cool she had been to him at the park, he inserted his hand between them and fondled her clitoris. She gasped and thrashed against her bonds. He fell into a rhythm that had her straining and grinding her teeth. She dug her fingers into her palms in her attempt to stave off her climax.

  “Please, Sir,” she gasped hoarsely.

  “No,” he replied sternly.

  Perspiration dotted her forehead. She made all manner of sounds and writhed with such intensity that the ropes about her wrists were sure to chafe her skin. He could not wager as to who would be more successful in holding back their climax. Her cunnie felt far too wonderful. The sweat trickled down from his temple as he held back his release. Now she struggled to get away from him as he continued to buck himself between her legs. Her grunts became increasingly guttural, and he sensed her peak nearing. He shortened his strokes and pounded into her at a rapid pace to push her over the edge.

  A slow wail tore from her throat. Her body convulsed. Jonathan yanked the pins off her body. Her scream pierced the air. He felt her spasming about his cock. Pulling out of her, he allowed himself his long desired release, spilling his seed upon her leg. He shuddered and turned around so that he could throw back his mask to drink in much needed air. He unclenched the muscles that he had been tensing. Replacing his mask, he turned back to look at her. Her chest heaved heavily from the exertion. Her eyes were closed, and her head rested upon her arm.

  He was glad that she had spent. He wanted fulfillment for her. But now he would have to punish her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ABBEY FELT AS IF HER body had been thrown into another world. He had built wave upon wave of ecstasy in her, and it took all of her to contain the flood for as long as she did. The explosiveness of her release, combined with the excruciating flash of pain when the pins were pulled from her body, created the most intense sensation her body had ever experienced. Her heart still hammered madly between the walls of her chest, and she wondered if it would ever return to normal.

  When the world had finally righted itself and she felt some semblance of her senses had returned – as well as the soreness of her limbs – she slowly pried her eyes open to find him staring at her. She immediately knew what was to come.

  “Spending without permission may be deemed an error. Spending before your master has done is a grave offense,” he informed her.

  “Forgive me, Sir,” she mumbled, though she only half-regretted her transgression. She was too exhausted to care overmuch.

  “You will be given a reprieve that you may have the strength to fully appreciate the punishment awaiting you.”

  Jonathan released her binds and caught her as she slumped towards the floor. He carried her to the corner and lowered her into a cage that had perhaps been meant for some predatory animal such as a tiger. Her heart sank at her new quarters.

  “You see that you have a pan of water to drink from and a pan to piss in,” she was told.

  “How long am I to stay here, Sir?” she asked.

  “As long as I deem necessary.”

  Of course. How silly of her to think that he would provide a candid answer. She attempted to find a comfortable position.

  “Rest well,” he bid her before departing with the valet.

  Left alone, Abbey lay upon side back with her legs bent at the knee for the cage was not long enough for her to stretch her full length. She stared at the side of the cage in disbelief. A mixture of fear and excitement persisted. She had not thought she could spend in such a fashion. She had not expected to be aroused by him. But he had quite the arsenal of methods. And his touch...

  She had to wonder if he she had lain with him before for he seemed to know her body, knew how and where to fondle her. She considered all her past lovers but could not discern any of them to be her abductor. Only one man who had caressed her but with whom she was less familiar remained a possibility.

  Montague Edwards.

  It was plain her abductor disguised his voice, but he did have the same height as Edwards. Not having seen Edwards naked, she could not tell if his body was as sculpted in the same manner. But he had a similar leg. She recalled the fingers and how they had plied her clitoris. The memory of it renewed the warmth in her loins. Her thoughts still felt scrambled, but there was no denying her body responded to him – her abductor and Montague Edwards. Even now, after having had the most dramatic orgasm, she yearned for his touch.

  Her hand crept between her legs and she languidly toyed with her clitoris. The spanking had been well done. The flogging exceptional. He was a practiced dominant. He had awakened nearly every part of her body. Even the more shameful parts – being forced to undress before the two men, having taking the cock of his valet into her mouth, and pleasuring herself before him – aroused a wicked desire within her. She liked the way her fingers slid against her flesh, made slippery by the salve.

  If her abductor should be Montague Edwards, why would he wish to kidnap her? Was it merely to revel in carnal lust? She stroked herself more quickly at the thought that a man might be so wicked as to have that as his sole purpose. But how brazen of him to think that she would respond.

  And respond she did, she thought ruefully. While desiring more. If he could elicit such breathtaking sensations from her body when she had not pleased him, what
manner of pleasure could he evoke after she did please him? Her body shivered at the thought. She could feel her desire building despite her enervation. She flicked at her clitoris with vigor. The resulting climax relieved her agitation but did not prove nearly as satisfying as it once did.

  She felt tired but restless and eager for his return. An hour or two passed. She drank of the water and eyed the other pan with dread. Prior to being a patron of Madame Botreaux, she would have been mortified, and although she felt a stab of humiliation, she knew that ultimately the punishment being wielded, if he were a proper dom, were for her benefit as much as his. Pushing aside her pride, she relieved herself into the pan.

  Jonathan returned at one point to retrieve the sullied pan and provide water and bread.

  “How long does your master intend to keep me locked in here?” she inquired.

  “Sir,” he reminded her.

  “Sir.”

  “I know not, my lady.”

  His address struck her as odd given that she was caged like an unruly pet. Jonathan left and she shifted about uncomfortably for another hour. At last her abductor returned. She eyed him through the cage, but with his mask, she was unable to discern his identity with confidence. He opened the top of the cage and held out his hand to lift her out. She stepped out, grateful to be able to stretch her cramped limbs. Seeing that he held her crop, she was confident that the man had visited, if not frequented, The Cavern.

  He pulled a chair from the corner and sat in it, pulling her on top of him and setting aside the crop. She could feel his hardened desire against her arse, but he still had on his breeches. He rubbed her sore arms with firm thorough motions, relaxing the muscles that had strained against the ropes. Tenderly he massaged her neck, melting away the tension. Suddenly she recognized the touch. It was the same caress she had received in the East Library of the Bennington ball.

  It was Montague Edwards!

  Her heart palpitated briskly at the knowledge. Relief, that her abductor was not some strange madman but a man she knew, waved over her. Agitation followed. She had been glib with him at St. James’ Park. Was this his way of returning her dismissal? Yet a part of her thrilled that she had merited such elaborate attention from him. And she had thought he had no interest in her...

  But how naughty of him to have made her take the cock of his valet into her mouth! And how skilled he was with the flogger. He was a man of many talents. She flushed to think that he had discovered her to be a patron of Madame Botreaux. She felt no shame in her patronage, of course, but found it unsettling that he had known of her identity without her prompting it.

  He reached through her arms and cupped her breasts, scattering her thoughts. He kneaded the heavy flesh and brushed his thumbs over her nipples, which hardened instantly. She felt a familiar warmth building between her legs.

  Should she reveal that she knew his identity? No, she should save it for a more opportune time, when she could think more properly, when his hand was not sliding down towards her mons. His fingers slid through the hair there until they found her clitoris once more. A few strokes and she felt her wetness pooling upon his thighs. She could no longer hide the fact that he had mastery over her body. He plunged two fingers into her cunnie. She arched her back into his hand. How she wished it were his cock pushing in and out of her!

  As he fondled a breast with one hand, he continued to stir the most rousing and exquisite sensations in her nether parts. She hoped that he would allow her to spend this time.

  But it was not to be.

  He withdrew his hands, pushed her to her feet, and retrieved the crop.

  “Kneel upon the bed,” he commanded, pointing to a mattress against the wall.

  She did as told. He bent her over by pushing her head to the bed. She turned her head to the side to breathe.

  “Reach for your ankles.”

  He tied her wrists to her ankles. He stood behind her and gently caressed her derriere, arched in the air by her position.

  “How fares my arse?”

  “Well, Sir.”

  “Did you rest well in your cage?”

  “As well as possible, Sir.”

  “Did you sleep?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Did you partake of the water?’

  “I did, Sir.”

  “Did you take a piss?”

  Her cheeks colored. “Aye, Sir.”

  “How else did you pass the time?”

  “By being grateful for what you have given me, Sir.”

  “An acceptable fib. Did you engage in any other activity?”

  She considered how she had pleasured herself but had not been given permission to do so.

  “No, Sir.”

  The crop landed sharply on the bottom of her foot. She gasped at how much the strike smarted.

  “How else did you occupy your time, Baroness?”

  “I – I recalled the day, Sir.”

  “And?”

  “That is all, Sir.:”

  Whack! He struck the bottom of her other foot.

  “Do you think me a simpleton that I cannot detect your lies? Jonathan told me that he saw you pleasuring yourself. Had I given you permission to touch yourself?”

  “No, Sir.”

  He landed the crop against her arse.

  “Did you spend?”

  “Aye, Sir,” she mumbled.

  He whipped her again.

  “Had I given you permission to spend?”

  “No, Sir.”

  Reaching beneath her, he pinched a nipple and twisted it until she cried.

  “Forgive me, Sir, forgive me.”

  He sighed. “One would think you wished to be punished, Baroness.”

  “No! I wish to please you. Pray, give me another chance, Sir.”

  He spread the cheeks of her derriere. She felt the tip of the crop circling her anus.

  “Have you taken a cock here before?”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  “Often?”

  “A number of times, Sir.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  He dipped a finger into her cunnie juice and inserted the digit into her sphincter. She gasped at the initial discomfort. He sawed his finger in and out of her slowly until she adjusted to the intrusion. She felt something cool, smooth, and hard in her cunnie. A cock made of glass perhaps? Once coated with her wetness, he reinserted it into her anus. It was too large at first and she had to make a concerted effort to relax the muscles of her sphincter to accommodate the invasion. She felt as if her entire body were plugged.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He slid the crop along her cunnie and clit. She moaned her appreciation. He rubbed more vigorously until her body hummed with delight, overpowering the discomfort of her full anus. She heard him shed his breeches. He knelt behind her. She cried out when she felt his cock sinking into her quim. It seemed her body could not tolerate another penetration, but she knew from past experience that it could. Indeed, to be filled to the hilt in both holes was nothing short of extraordinary. Edwards began thrusting into her cunnie. The discomfort in her anus had melded with the other sensations, creating a divine overload of her senses. She gritted her teeth, knowing she had not been given permission to spend.

  “Shall I spend first this time?” he inquired as he pummeled into her at a steady and even pace.

  “Of course, Sir.”

  Driving his cock deeper inside of her, he bucked forcefully into her. She felt him shake against her and heard him groan. His hot seed streamed once more upon her leg. She half wondered that he did not spend inside of her but was more concerned with seeking her own relief.

  “May I spend, Sir?”

  He slipped his hand between her thighs and rubbed her.

  “You should like to, would you not?”

  Was he daft?

  “Very much, Sir.”

  He played with her clitoris until she was dizzy with delight.

  “But you have yet to pa
y for your past transgressions.”

  Damnation.

  He removed the object from her derriere, and stepping away from her, retrieved an object made of iron.

  “For pleasuring yourself until climax, we will have to make use of an age-old contraption,” he explained. “A chastity belt.”

  She frowned but feared objection would only bring greater castigation. She knew that she had behaved poorly and must now pay the price.

  He fixed the heavy belt about her, then released the ropes about her ankle and wrists. He pulled her to her feet.

  “I will grant you one reprieve, however.”

  She looked at him hopefully. Her body was in an unbearable state of arousal.

  “You need not spend the night in the cage.”

  He picked up his breeches and left. As soon as he was gone, she began tampering with the lock of the chastity belt. She would risk being punished again, but, by God, she needed to spend. The lock remained secure to her dismay. She pulled at the belt and attempted to grind her quim against it, but it was of no use. She collapsed back onto the bed. Perhaps she could cool her ardor with unsavory thoughts. Thoughts such as...

  But her mind wandered back to the sound fucking she had just received. A fucking that had not ended to her fulfillment. Her hands cupped her breasts where he had held her moments before. She kneaded her breasts as he had done. Perhaps she could climax without direct stimulation of her clitoris or cunnie? She pulled at her nipples and circled her hips. She considered calling out his name, but what if he should be alarmed that she knew his identity and did not return?

  She howled in frustration as she tossed and squirmed about the mattress, her body tense with a distress that need calming, a heat that needed extinguishing. She knew not how she managed to doze in her condition, but she drifted in and out of sleep, waking to the same agitation. Half-dreams and memories flitted through her mind: of her and Edwards in the library, of her taking his cock into her mouth, of her spending upon his hand. She dreamed of herself suspended in space in the center of the Cavern assembly floor. Edwards, wearing his mask, sauntered around her, demonstrating before a crowd of Madame Botreaux’s patrons how he controlled her body. She responded to his every touch without feeling the slightest shame or discomfiture.