The Chaste Legacy

by Susanna Hughes

  'Now you, Constantine, please. I need it. You promised.' The first orgasm had again left her hungry for a second. She wanted desperately to feel what she had felt yesterday. 'Please.'

  The hands left her body. She felt the larger of the two dildos being pulled from her vagina. A heavy weight moved onto the bed beside her. She opened her legs wider, if that were possible, and arched her buttocks off the bed, hoping Constantine would be able to see her urgent need. The weight moved and she felt her legs being lifted into the air. The unmistakable heat of a penis, Constantine's hard penis, butted into her labia.

  'Yes, yes, yes. That's what I want,' she screamed, wriggling down on it until she managed to get it to the entrance of her vagina. A wave of desire overcame her, the anticipation almost as strong as the event.

  'You need it, don't you my dear? You need it very badly, I think.' His voice was low and husky.

  'You can see,' she gasped.

  'Take it then.'

  He slammed forward, falling on her, his fat cock skewering into her. The dildo had opened her but it didn't feel like this. Nothing did. Nothing ever had. This was the best feeling she'd ever had. She loved it. Adored it. Wanted more and more of it. But this was different from last night. The smaller of the two dildos was still buried in her anus and she could feel it alongside the sword of flesh thrusting into her vagina. Again she couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to have two cocks in there. Was that possible? She didn't know or care. The idea was enough. As Constantine began to pound into her, his buttocks moving up and down, the two brunettes held her legs up almost vertically to form a V. Corinda felt as though her sex was blossoming like the petals of a flower, opening to allow him into the very core of her.

  'Yes, yes!' she screamed. Her whole body shuddered, wrapping around the steel-hard cock. She opened her mouth to cry out again but could make no sound. The feelings were too strong. In the blackness behind the blindfold she saw his cock driving in and out of her, parting her glistening wet flesh, ploughing into her alongside the plastic phallus in her rear, the two separated only by the thin membranes of her body. It was all in her imagination, but it was a vivid picture causing her to come again just as much as the physical stimulation. She was a woman now, a small voice kept repeating over and over, a woman in every sense. She felt her sex contracting around the hardness of his erection, gripping it tightly. Her clitoris pulsed wildly, and then a surge of raw pleasure rolled over her, making her gasp, wiping away everything but the feeling itself. Her hands clawed at Constantine's back, like a drowning girl clinging to a piece of flotsam.

  The silk was unknotted and slipped from her eyes. She raised her head. The two brunettes were kneeling either side of her holding her legs. Constantine was poised above her, his arms straight, so he could look down her body as he pulled his cock almost all the way out of her sex. Corinda looked down too as it emerged, shining with her wetness, the gnarled veins of the shaft standing out prominently. She saw one of the girl's hands appear from behind his buttocks and fasten around the sac of his balls, holding it tight. Then as he dropped onto Corinda again, his weight crushing her, the view disappeared. She felt instead of saw his broad cock forcing its way into her again.

  As he had done last night, this time he did not move. Instead he used all his energy to push, inching deeper. His cock began to pulse.

  Only the second time, she thought. 'I want more,' she whispered in his ear.

  She felt his cock jerk violently in the tight confines of her sex, as it spat semen into her. It was enough to set her off too, and she responded with such intensity that a third orgasm overwhelmed her. It was as strong as it was unexpected.

  Corinda slept a dreamless sleep. She had the feeling, though she had no way of telling, that she woke early, her excitement breaking through her body's need to rest.

  She lay in the darkness of the bedroom without switching on the bedside light, which now worked perfectly. She found herself thinking of Tim. Despite her gratitude to Constantine for everything he had done, and the mountainous sexual emotions he had aroused, she could not bring herself to feel the same way about him as she had about Tim. Tim had been so handsome and attractive. She couldn't help wondering whether it would have been different with him, whether her attraction to him would have added an extra dimension to her first experience of sex with a man.

  She decided it would not. The pleasure had been so extreme she found it impossible to believe it could be improved upon. But it would have been different with him. She couldn't help wishing it had been Tim who had taken her precious virginity.

  She began to think about last night, about the two girls and the dildos and the clips on Irina's nipples. She wondered if they were lying in each other's arms now, as the dawn broke, just as she had done with Arabella. She ran through everything that had happened, wanting to be sure she remembered it all. She felt her clitoris pulse. With no intention of doing anything but calming it she slid a hand over her naked belly, and slipped her middle finger into her labia. Her clit felt sore, but the soreness was not at all unpleasant. In fact it was provoking. She explored the little promontory. She felt a surge of pleasure from deep in her vagina, a sensation she had never had before, as if Constantine's penis had awoken nerves previously inactive.

  It was a deliciously vicious circle. She should have turned on the light and gone to the bathroom to get ready for breakfast. She tried to tell herself, after the excesses of the last two days, that the last thing she needed was to masturbate. But the messages of pleasure her vagina was generating were too strong to ignore. They coursed into her clitoris which responded with equal vigour, and in seconds her nipples had stiffened to complete the circle, the feelings feeding off each other, her pleasure mounting. Then another element wanted to join in. Her mind. Her mind filled with images of male genitalia, of throbbing cocks and heavy balls, of smooth glans atop gnarled shafts. There were women too, with firm breasts and erect nipples. She imagined the puckered bud of an anus being forced open by a dildo, the lips of the brunette's labia spread around another phallus, and her own nether lips parting to admit a cock into the secret caverns that lay beyond.

  'So good. It felt so good,' she said. 'So good.' She plunged her other hand down between her legs and thrust two then three fingers into her vagina, experiencing the same delicious soreness she felt in her clit.

  'Fuck me, fuck me,' she sobbed, wanting to hear the words she knew would excite her.

  She could almost feel Constantine plunging into her. She could feel the penetration in her anus too. She pushed a finger into her rear and wriggled it against the fingers in her sex. She thought she could still feel Constantine's semen inside her. She tossed her head from side to side with passion. Closing her eyes, the images in her head became more vivid. Faster than she could ever remember coming before on her own, all the strange new feelings her body was experiencing combined with the stark images that sprang up in her mind, created an orgasm. It was so sharp and sudden it was almost painful. She stretched out across the bed as though she were tied to some medieval rack, her muscles rigid, her head arched back, the sinews of her neck corded like rope. At that moment, as the orgasm played through the strings of her body, she saw Tim's face and his throbbing erection. She came for him.

  The metal shutter had only been opened to bring her food. The woman in the black dress had brought her breakfast and lunch, exactly as she had yesterday, without saying a word. Corinda thought of following her out and going to find Constantine but, after what he had said she was afraid she might blunder into some part of the house she was not supposed to be in and accidentally open some door or window. The last thing she wanted to do was cause him pain. Not after all he had done for her.

  So she remained where she was, reading, or trying on the outfits provided in the wardrobe. She paraded in front of the bathroom mirror in lingerie, trying on some of the more exotic garments the like of which she had never seen before. There was the whole range of make-up in the bathroom too, w
hich she experimented with, trying darker eye-shadow, and blusher, and painting her lips with different shades of lipstick.

  Even without the make-up she looked different. She stood in front of the mirror, looking deep into her own eyes and spotted, she thought, the mark of a woman buried within the mottled radius of her blue irises.

  It was not, she guessed, until late afternoon that the metal shutter rolled up for the third time that day. This time her visitor was Eloisa. She was wearing a pair of tight denim shorts, so abbreviated that they cut across her buttocks diagonally, and a white cotton blouse knotted at her navel with all its buttons undone. As usual her outfit was completed by precipitously high heels, this time attached to white ankle-boots.

  'I see you've found the clothes,' she said, as the metal shutter rolled closed. She looked around the room. Corinda had spread dresses over every surface.

  'They are beautiful; I've never seen such things.'

  'Constantine wanted to make sure you had the best.'

  'He's so kind, isn't he?'

  Eloisa smiled. 'He asked me to tell you, another guest has arrived.'

  'A man?' Corinda asked enthusiastically, ever eager to expand her limited knowledge of the species.

  'Yes, a Frenchman. He's going to join you for dinner tonight.'

  'Oh, that'll be nice. I hoped I might see Constantine before then.'

  'He's very busy at the moment.'

  'I understand. It's just rather boring in here. Do you think I could go out for a walk?'

  'I'll ask him. Constantine's very funny about that. He explained about his skin condition?'

  Corinda nodded.

  'I'll ask him though.'

  'Can you tell him something for me? I've remembered the name of the solicitors. It was Morrison. Morrison and Morrison. Father and son. In London. Can he get in touch with them?' She had remembered the name suddenly whilst eating some figs she'd been brought as part of her lunch. In her mind's eye she could see the top of the stationery attached to the paper Tim had given her to sign, back on the island. Hopefully there would only be one such firm in London. Once they heard of her whereabouts they'd no doubt send a boat to get her. They'd have news of Tim too, and be able to tell Arabella she was safe.

  'Morrison and Morrison?' Eloisa repeated.

  'That's it.'

  'I'll tell him.'

  'He might be able to call them before dinner.'

  'Do you want me to help you pick something to wear? Dinner will be in about an hour.'

  'No, it's all right. I think I've worked that out for myself. On top and underneath,' she said, smiling coquettishly.

  'Good. Have fun then.'

  'Eloisa?'

  'Yes?'

  'Do you think Constantine likes me?'

  'Sure. He likes you just fine.'

  'Really?'

  'Ah-ha.'

  'You know, he let me have sex with him. And with Iluska and Irina.'

  'Yes. He told me.'

  'I hope I did it right.'

  'I don't think you should worry about that. I really don't. I'll be back when you're ready to go.' Magically again the metal shutter rolled up and Eloisa left, the tight denim digging into the flesh of her buttocks as she walked.

  Chapter Six

  Constantine was standing by the roaring log fire. He had a small glass in his hand full of a cloudy white liquid.

  'My dear, good evening. You must forgive me for not seeing you earlier.' Eloisa had told him of her conversation with Corinda, before she collected her and brought her to the main reception room. 'You look quite stunning,' he said as she walked across the room. 'I'm so glad we managed to find you something so delightful to wear.' He dismissed Eloisa with a nod of the head.

  As Constantine took her hand Corinda felt her body throb. He touched his lips to her fingers; a touch as delicate as the brush of a butterfly's wing.

  Corinda had decided on a daring black silk dress with a box neckline and a wrap-over skirt which split as she moved, to reveal a great deal of thigh. It even exposed the black lacy tops of the stockings she had carefully smoothed on her legs, and clipped into black suspenders. She thought Constantine would like the tantalising glimpses. She hoped it would remind him that she was more than willing to continue from where they had left off last night.

  'You're drinking ouzo,' she said, recognising the aniseed smell of the drink Arabella loved.

  'Would you like a glass?'

  'I'd rather have champagne,' she said, spotting the wine cooler on the coffee table. She was developing quite a taste for it.

  'Of course.'

  He poured the wine and handed her a glass. 'Unfortunately I will not be able to join you for dinner tonight,' he said.

  Corinda looked disappointed. 'Oh, Constantine, I thought we could...' It was not dinner she had in mind.

  'I am disappointed, of course, but I do have a very charming dinner companion for you.'

  'But I can't ask him to have sex with me,' Corinda blurted out, pouting.

  'Oh, my dear. You underestimate yourself. With your qualities of persuasion I'm sure he will fall under your spell.'

  'Really?' She brightened immediately. She had been fantasising all afternoon about what Constantine would do to her. But the prospect of having another man make love to her was, if anything, even more exciting.

  'I think it's entirely possible.' He finished his drink.

  'It's just that I've been thinking about you all day. I can still feel you right here.' She put her hand on her lower belly and pressed to show him the exact spot.

  'We will renew our liaison, I promise you. But not tonight. I'm sure you will find Yves just as entertaining. He's anxious to meet you. And I've told him all about your miraculous escape.'

  'Did Eloisa tell you I remembered the name of the solicitors?'

  'Yes, indeed. Morrison and Morrison.'

  'Did you get through?'

  'I have asked my man in Athens to contact them as a matter of urgency.'

  'I didn't mean to be ungrateful. It's just that I want to find out about Tim, and Arabella will be worried.'

  'I understand perfectly. Ah, here is Yves.' Constantine turned to pour another glass of champagne as a tall man appeared at the atrium door. He was wearing black slacks and a black silk shirt, open at the neck. He walked across the room with an ease and grace that Corinda found fascinating.

  'Yves Brice, may I present Corinda Chaste?' Constantine said.

  'Enchanté, mademoiselle,' Yves said, taking her hand and kissing it much more firmly than Constantine had. 'It is a great pleasure to meet you.'

  'And you,' Corinda said, feeling her heart leap. He was handsome. As handsome as Tim but in a different way. His face was rather long with bushy eyebrows and dark brown curly hair. He had brown eyes set deep under his brow, a straight nose and a fleshy mouth, his lips as smooth as a woman's.

  'She is everything you said, Constantine,' he told the Greek.

  'You are glad you made the trip?'

  'Mais oui. A remarkable acquisition.' His English was perfect though his accent was unmistakably French.

  'You make me sound like an oil painting,' Corinda said, thinking the way they were talking about her was strange.

  'A very beautiful oil. A rare addition to anyone's collection,' Yves said, as Constantine handed him a glass of champagne.

  'Only at the right price,' Constantine said. They looked at each other with a steady, meaningful gaze, but the meaning eluded Corinda. 'Forgive us, my dear,' Constantine went on, seeing her puzzlement. 'A private joke. Why don't you take Corinda into dinner,' he said to the Frenchman. 'As you know I must conclude some business.'

  'That will be my pleasure.'

  'Enjoy,' Constantine said before bustling away.

  Yves took Corinda's arm and led her through to the dining room. As before the table was set for two, with all the necessary accoutrements sparkling in the subdued light. A large bowl of white Arum lilies had been set in the middle of the polished oak. The t
wo Albanian girls stood by the serving door. They were a little more modestly dressed than at the last dinner, but still quite daring. Their gold lamé bodices were cut high on the hip, the crease of the pelvis visible at the front. The crotch of the outfits was narrow and did not cover the whole plane of their sexes. At the back it emerged as no more than a narrow thong, leaving their buttocks exposed. Their long legs were sheathed in shiny champagne-coloured tights and they wore gold high-heeled shoes.

  As Yves helped Corinda into her chair at the table, Iluska fetched the champagne from the other room, and Irina disappeared through the serving door.

  'Have you been here before?' Corinda asked as Iluska refilled their glasses.

  'Yes, once or twice. Constantine usually thinks of me when he has something special.'

  'What does he do exactly? I forgot to ask him.'

  'I suppose you could call him a salvage expert. He salvages things then sells them on. To the highest bidder, naturally.'

  'It must be very interesting.'

  'Oh very.'

  The dinner was French. There was a mousseline of sea bass and grenadine of veal, followed by a savarin, served with red fruits. The Turkish coffee was replaced by a lighter version flavoured with chicory. They chatted inconsequentially as the bizarrely dressed girls served the meal, though Yves's eyes, as far as Corinda could tell, never deviated once to look at them. He only had eyes for her. It was not until he suggested they take another glass of champagne that he mentioned the loss of her yacht.