Without the two women’s knowledge, Elizabeth and Flora had moved to help Brian and Martin. They both carried ice buckets from which the men removed cubes and then, working from behind the imprisoned women, positioned them just over their navels, fastening them there with wide, webbed strapping which fastened at the back.
The sudden cold touch on her overstretched skin made Deborah’s body leap like a salmon from the water and for a moment her feet left the block and she was suspended in the air again. Hastily she scrabbled for a foothold, and then she realised that the heat of her skin was making the ice cube melt so that tiny rivulets of cold liquid were making their way across her lower abdomen and down through her pubic hair. She wanted to move, but couldn’t because of her position. Instead she had to stay stock still and endure the cold invasion that slipped stealthily along her skin.
Next, a wide strip of soft velvet was passed between both women’s legs from the front to the back; Brian and Elizabeth working it slowly against Deborah’s labia, moving in a slow sensual rubbing motion while Martin and Flora did the same for Sara.
Deborah’s body responded instantly. The material was so sensuous, the movement so carefully calculated to arouse with the minimum of pressure, and she began to thrust her hips forward with growing desire. Gradually both the ice cubes melted and the liquid soaked into the two strips of velvet while the women moaned quietly at their increasing excitement.
Lulled by the gentleness of it all, and even more easily aroused than normal because of the physical tension of their bodies’ positions, neither Sara nor Deborah were ready for what happened next.
Without any warning, Martin and Brian suddenly started to slap the undersides of their victims’ breasts with their fingers. The slaps were firm and evenly spaced, and the onlookers watched the way Sara’s and Deborah’s breasts jiggled and swung and saw the red marks slowly appearing on the white flesh.
Deborah cried out in shock and Flora smiled to herself while Pavin leant forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees and his hands cupping his chin. He was surprised to find that despite his recent session with Flora he was slowly being aroused again by the sight of Deborah naked in front of them all, and helpless beneath Brian’s expert ministrations.
Deborah bit her lip to prevent herself crying out again as the firm, rhythmic slapping continued, but beside her she could hear Sara gasping in obvious arousal at the same stimulation. Then Brian stopped and cupped her swollen, burning breasts in his hands, lowering his mouth and applying strong suction to one nipple while his left hand fondled the other with vividly contrasting gentleness.
Deborah’s breasts felt larger than ever before and she heard her breath rasping in her throat as he skilfully switched from one breast to the other, taking it in turns to gently manhandle them. The contrast was unspeakably stimulating and she too began to gasp with pleasure.
Once she was thoroughly aroused, Brian let Elizabeth take over Deborah’s breasts, pinching the nipples and then sucking as much of the surrounding areolae as she could into her mouth.
In the meantime he went round behind the suspended blonde and she felt his hands cupping her buttocks, tracing their outlines and lifting them as though weighing or assessing their worth. Despite Elizabeth’s expert ministrations on her breasts she began to tense, and when she felt her buttocks parted and some jelly spread around her rear entrance her terror increased, especially when Sara suddenly cried out: ‘No! Not that, please!’
‘It won’t hurt if you bear down,’ Elizabeth whispered in a low voice as Sara continued to cry out. ‘Sara’s only worried she’ll come too soon. The first one to come isn’t thought to have been sufficiently punished you see.’
‘I don’t want this!’ protested Deborah violently.
At once Brian stopped what he was doing and Pavin rose from his chair. He walked across to stand in front of Deborah. ‘Did I hear you right, Debbie? Do you want to stop now and leave?’ Her naked and exposed body trembled before him as he waited for her answer.
Deborah didn’t know what to say. Now that all the manipulations had stopped her body felt strangely neglected, and she realised that her level of arousal had been far higher than she’d realised; there had been great pleasure alongside the slight pain and her body had adored it. Now, left alone and with the prospect of never again seeing Pavin, making love with him or indeed with anyone else on the island, she felt her mind clear.
‘No, of course not. I’m sorry, Pavin, I just panicked. I want to go on. I need to go on,’ she admitted, dropping her voice in shame so that only he could hear.
Satisfied, Pavin stepped away from her again. ‘Carry on,’ he instructed the men. ‘And girls, the idea is not to get too much satisfaction from what’s happening, this is meant to be a punishment. The first to climax may have to be punished further.’
Deborah knew then that Elizabeth had told the truth, and that she at least was a real friend.
Brian returned his attention to the entrance between Deborah’s tight buttocks and remembering what Elizabeth had said, Deborah bore down. This opened her up to him, but it also meant that her clitoris became more prominent and as Brian slid a cold nozzle into her lubricated rectum and began to fill her back passage with whipped cream, Elizabeth took a piece of waxed cord and with agonising gentleness let it caress the highly sensitive tip of the exposed clitoris.
Deborah gasped, and Sara gave a cry of excitement too as the same thing was done to her. Hearing another woman in such a state of sexual ecstasy only added to Deborah’s own excitement, and she tried to block out the whimpering noises of heightening pleasure coming from the young maid.
Brian slowly continued to squeeze the whipped cream into Deborah’s tight opening, and soon she began to feel uncomfortably full there and her stomach was visibly distended, much to the excitement of the onlookers. The pressure created a deep ache in the pit of her stomach and her toes moved restlessly on the wooden block.
‘Keep you buttocks clenched,’ Brian instructed her firmly. ‘Don’t let the cream escape. Elizabeth, come round here and tell me if any starts to ooze out.’
Deborah heard them changing places, and then she felt Brian’s hand on her already pressurised stomach, spread across the lowest part, just above her pubic hair. His fingers kneaded softly at the tight flesh so that her nerve endings screamed with the increased stimulation and hot sparks of desire pierced through her breasts and thighs and she longed for some touch between her legs where she was already swollen and damp.
Brian was an expert at this kind of manipulation, and he continued to apply pressure to her seemingly bursting flesh until she was moaning in a kind of mad delirium, straining to keep her buttocks closed despite the muscular spasms in her belly triggered by his wickedly knowing touch.
Finally he took pity on her, and lazily he let his tongue slide down her inner thighs to knees, calves and ankles, peeling her stockings down as he went, and then in a diabolically tender gesture he placed his tongue beneath each of her straining feet in turn and licked along the length of the overstretched arches.
She felt herself growing more and more damp between her thighs and when he started to move his head up again she could have cried out in gratitude. Pavin, seeing the way she was fighting against the contractions that were her natural reaction to such skilful arousal, longed to take Brian’s place and wrench her climax from her himself but he knew that he couldn’t. The game was never played like that. It was just that this was the first time he’d really wanted to interfere, and he was amazed at his depth of feeling for the blonde-haired young Englishwoman.
Brian sensed Pavin’s desire and smiled to himself. It only made what he was doing all the sweeter. He knew that Deborah wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, and as his tongue started to slide smoothly up her moist inner channels towards her despairing clitoris he felt her push herself towards him and knew that she would precipitate her own downfall through inexperience.
In the meantime, Sara was groaning and g
asping but using every trick she’d learnt over the past three years in order to keep her orgasm at bay. In any case, Flora wasn’t working as hard as she could and even when a small dribble of cream escaped from between the maid’s buttocks she didn’t say anything because she wanted Sara to beat Deborah.
Brian’s tongue started to circle the outer portion of Deborah’s clitoris, and at once she forgot to keep her buttocks tightly closed.
‘There’s cream coming out,’ said Elizabeth, her voice sympathetic.
‘Naughty!’ said Brian, and nipped lightly at the inflamed bud.
To Deborah’s horror this merely seemed to bring her climax closer and she felt her entire body gather itself together, every inch of skin pulling tight over the flesh beneath as a slow pulse began to beat behind her clitoris.
Nearing its peak of arousal the clitoris started to slip beneath the fold of protective flesh, but Elizabeth had played this game with her husband many times before and knew exactly what she had to do. Just as the bud began to disappear from view she put her tiny hand sideways across the top of Deborah’s pubic bone and moved it up towards the middle of her stomach so that the pulling of the skin forced the hood away from the clitoris.
Now it was totally exposed and Deborah was making tiny mewing noises mixed with deep guttural groans of desire that she didn’t recognise as coming from herself. Brian took the waxed cord from his wife, drew it delicately up the middle of the suspended blonde’s parted sex lips and then with one quick flick of his wrist he struck the red, engorged nub of her pleasure a sharp stinging and totally unexpected blow that proved the final death knell to her self-control.
As the red-hot blaze of pleasure-pain lanced through her, Deborah felt a flood of moisture flow from her front passage and then it seemed as though every single muscle in her body was convulsing with the huge waves of blissful release that tore through her. For the onlookers, the sight of her taut, shackled body heaving and twisting as the muscles of her thighs and belly rippled and shook and her vaginal juices flowed down between her thighs while the last of the cream escaped from between her buttocks and down the backs of her legs, was one of the most arousing they’d ever seen.
Her blonde hair flew around her face as her head twisted from side to side and her cries of pleasure were so loud that they toppled Sara over the edge and for a brief instant both of the tethered women were racked by their orgasm at the same time, although it was Deborah who was the first to become still.
As Brian removed her blindfold and released the handcuffs, he pinched her still swollen and erect nipples. ‘I can’t wait until we get a chance to be alone together,’ he said softly. ‘Since you lost, although admittedly by a very short head, I think I’ll suggest that’s what happens next. The winner chooses her partner you see, the loser gets it chosen for her.’
Deborah hardly heard him, all that she was aware of was Pavin coming across the room towards her, wrapping her in a huge rug and then he was carrying her from the room holding her tightly against his chest and murmuring endearments that made everything she’d endured worthwhile.
As he laid her on their bed he asked: ‘Did you enjoy it, really enjoy it, or was it just for me, Debbie?’ and his eyes were worried.
She knew she had to be completely honest. ‘I enjoyed it,’ she confessed, and then she slept.
Chapter Seven
WHEN SHE AWOKE she could hear Pavin moving about in the dressing room and assumed it must be dinner time. It was hard to tell from the amount of light coming in through their window. At this time of year it stayed light until eleven o’clock at night on Pavinsay.
She was just reaching for her watch when he came into the room, already dressed in his dinner jacket. Hastily Deborah started to climb out of bed. ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ she demanded as she padded naked towards him.
‘Hey, what’s the rush?’ He sounded amused. ‘Dinner’s over, honey. I did try to wake you but you just groaned and kept your eyes shut! I guess the excitement of the afternoon tired you out.’
‘What’s the time then?’
‘Nine-thirty. Do you want some food sent up?’
Deborah looked about for something to put on and found one of Pavin’s shirts. It was so large she felt like a child dressing up in adult’s clothing.
Pavin smiled. ‘Very fetching! Tell you what, honey. How about us taking a stroll for half an hour, that will help wake you up, and you can eat when we get back.’
Deborah liked the thought of him showing her round his island. Hastily she pulled on a black leisure suit with white diagonal stripes across the back of the jacket and white circular bands round the arms. She knew it suited her and saw desire in the American’s eyes even though he didn’t say a word.
They left the castle grounds by a small wicket gate at the rear of the building. This path led them across the island where the strange goat-like sheep, said to be descendants of an earlier primitive breed, wandered.
‘Cute, don’t you think?’ asked Pavin proudly. ‘They live on seaweed! Not at lambing time, then the ewes use the grassland such as it is, but the rest of the year it’s just seaweed.’
Deborah smiled. ‘You’re really into all the culture of these islands, aren’t you?’
‘Sure; when in Rome, as they say.’
‘First you come and steal our publishing industry; now you’re stealing our heritage as well. America must be a very unsatisfying place to live!’
She heard Pavin’s quick intake of breath and knew she’d irritated him, but she didn’t care. Even here, where she was supposed to be forgetting herself in an erotic holiday of the senses, the hurt of her lost job occasionally resurfaced.
Pavin put his hand in his pockets and left a distance between them as they continued walking. ‘I didn’t steal your heritage, Debbie. No one wanted it. The young need bright lights and work, while the elderly don’t want to be as cut off as they would be here in winter. Where’s the harm in buying something no one else wants?’
‘I didn’t say it was wrong.’
‘You sure as hell sounded as though it was.’
‘I just think it’s a pity that dollars can buy anything.’
He stopped and turned to face her. ‘They can’t. I’ve got two broken marriages and countless unsuccessful love affairs behind me. I’m rich enough to indulge my every desire, but sometimes I can’t find enough people to share them with me. Added to which, how do I ever know that it isn’t my dollars rather than my personality the brings me these wives, lovers and friends?’
Deborah considered for a moment. ‘I suppose you don’t, but if it’s any comfort to you, I had no idea you were rich and famous when I met you at the party!’
‘Then why did you let me take you home?’
‘Because I fancied you, I suppose. You were easily the most attractive person in the room, and money can’t do that for anyone.’
At last he grinned. ‘I guess that’s a compliment! Well, at least I was right about you, you’re fitting in here exactly as I’d imagined, even if you are still suspicious of us Yankees!’
Deborah slipped an arm through his. ‘Tell me about the others,’ she suggested as they walked across the scrubland and down towards the pebbly shoreline.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘The kind of people they are, and why you chose them for your holiday island.’
Pavin sat down on a boulder and wrapped an arm around her so that she was leaning against his shoulder. ‘It was a case of trial and error. Some of the people who came for the first couple of years didn’t really take to it and they just drifted away. Brian’s been coming ever since I bought the island. He used to bring girlfriends, and then last year he married Elizabeth and brought her. I didn’t think she’d fit in, she seemed far too docile and shy, but an attractive masochist could hardly fail to add something to the overall pleasures on offer.’
‘Brian’s pretty intelligent, right?’ asked Deborah.
‘Yes, and a very good organiser. If
I’m in America and there’s some kind of crisis on one of the North Sea rigs and they call us, he’s more than capable of getting the right people out there with the minimum of fuss. Engineers, divers, firefighters, we’ve got a huge pool of expertise to draw on and he’ll find the best in the shortest possible time. He likes to control, you see, which is why little Elizabeth suits him so well.’
‘What about the Woolcotts? Tansy seems more outgoing than him.’
Pavin laughed. ‘She is! She and I had a fling a while back and I brought her here for an early summer break. Paul was here working on a complicated job that meant he wanted peace. Instead, Tansy decided she wanted him. He had no chance at all!’
‘Won’t she tire of him? He seems so quiet compared with her.’
Pavin shrugged. ‘She might, but nothing is forever, honey, remember? Now, Celia’s Welsh you know, very in tune with the island and all things pagan. I suspect she fell for Martin’s English style of good looks; the fair hair and marvellous diction. She probably needs these holidays more than he does because she likes variety and that’s what we aim to offer people here.’
‘And Flora’s here because she’s in love with you,’ said Deborah slowly.
Pavin stared out to sea. ‘Is that a fact? We sure get on pretty well at work and even between the sheets now and then, but small brunettes aren’t my style. I have a fatal weakness for leggy blondes!’
Deborah snuggled closer to him. ‘I’m glad to hear it. How about Richard?’
‘He has a fatal weakness for Flora! They work together and play together but so far there’s no sign that she’s been bowled over by his manly charms. There must be some sexual chemistry missing for her.’
The breeze off the sea was cool and Deborah stood up. ‘Can we walk some more? I’m cold.’
‘Sure.’
Hand-in-hand they walked along the top of of the low cliff. ‘How long have you been into this kind of experimental sex?’ Deborah enquired softly.
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