‘That’s easy, you torturer. I’d know the touch of lace anywhere.’
‘And what’s this one?’ Eliza naughtily darted out her tongue, flicking the bulbous head and bestowing on it a quick kiss.
‘I don’t know. However, whatever it is, I like the feel of it.’
Eliza smirked triumphantly, wondering what she could do next to torture him. So, it’s not simply lace and satin you like the feel of, is it? She loosened the bottom ribbon, stroking the pole with her tongue and mouth and flicking his balls with naughty little jabs of her tongue. Next, she straddled Emile’s hips. Lifting her skirt, she stroked it back and forth before raising herself up and, opening her slick lips, lowering herself slowly down, sliding his length inside her. The erotic fall-out from Eliza’s caresses was almost too much for Emile as she bobbed up and down and back and forth, rubbing the ribbon-encrusted cock over all her sensitive places.
‘That’s certainly not lace but whatever it is, it’s sublime. Is it the softest satin, the slickest silk?’
Eliza bent forward so her breath feathered his cheek. ‘No, my dear. That’s my cunt.’ Enough, she thought, too much indulgence in one sitting isn’t good. Besides, if Emile wants more of my torture, he’ll have to confess his dirtiest fantasies.
She continued to hold his cock to her clit for a while, pressing down as her legs began to quiver and her insides were gripped with such a massive convulsion it was as much as she could do not to faint. When she next looked at Emile’s cock it was angry and swollen and the tip was now temptingly slick, the little eye blinking. Eliza untied him, and when she took off the mask she gently kissed his lips.
Emile was flushed and his eyes glistened with lust. ‘I don’t know if I liked that game or not.’
‘Well, I did, and it was necessary if we are to find a solution to such an irritating problem. I hope you’ll learn to be more obedient, Emile. I’m your instructress, aren’t I?’
She must teach him more obedience, Eliza thought as she strode about her bedroom later that night, inflamed by her new games of passion. Emile required a very firm hand to keep his ardour in check and she was determined to give that to him. As for herself – well, that was another matter, for it seemed she might also need to exert more control there too.
That night, she fashioned a new device of torture. Taking a broad piece of lace, she cut a tiny hole with her nail scissors, just wide enough for the tip of his penis. She then sewed this to the two pieces of lace she’d wear around the top of her legs and which fastened to the lace on her satin ribbon girdle. This she embellished with bows and frills so that when she manoeuvred Emile’s cock towards her quim the fabric would tease and tickle, thus further inflaming his passion. I’ll liberate you, Emile, but only at the exact time I want to. I’ll also coax an admission of guilt out of you, because you’ll not admit to your shenanigans with my clothes.
Over the coming days Eliza spent a long time torturing Emile and even thrashing him with the lace whip she’d made, but still she couldn’t force an admission. She’d ascertained he was playing a game with her because it seemed he liked being bound and tortured far too much. Furthermore, she continued to find her clothes moved around, so the naughty dog was still playing with her private wardrobe. Secretly, Eliza was seething with anger and unrequited passion, so much so that, late one night, she took every one of her garments out of her closet and, in a fit of passion, sprawled and writhed amongst the clothes Emile had touched.
Chapter Eleven
‘You evil man. How dare you disport yourself in such a fashion by fornicating on my ruffles and frills?’ It was no good. Eliza couldn’t bear it any longer. She smoothed the fine silk bodice of her gown, turning away from the window where she’d been contemplating the garden. ‘And there’s no point saying you haven’t been, because I caught you red-handed.’
‘But Eliza.’ Emile, who had been sitting on the parlour couch, jumped to his feet, grabbing her about the waist. ‘I was going to tell you. First of all, though, I needed to refine my little experiment. You see, I had to be sure.’
Eliza turned her back on him. ‘Sure of what? It wouldn’t have been so bad if you’d have owned up. You can leave, Emile. I’ve been thinking about it and now our relationship’s just impossible.’ She could tell by his look of disbelief Emile thought she was joking. She also knew she sounded childish. However, the simple fact was Eliza had come to an important conclusion. Emile was driving her wild with lust and love – yes love – and she simply couldn’t bear seeing him any more, especially since he was obviously storing up his sexual favours for Penelope Carter. There was nothing for it; a clean break was necessary before she became too emotionally entangled.
‘Eliza, this is so unlike you. You’re generally so reasonable. I happen to think you’re reacting a little too strongly. You realise I’m inordinately fond of you, don’t you?’ Emile, who had evidently believed this was some kind of joke at first, was stroking his chin thoughtfully. ‘I know what this is. This is part of our game and you’ve designed this confrontation. I don’t deny we may have drifted into deeper water than we ought to have, but what danger is there? If it’s scandal you’re worried about, why, Aunt Katia promised she’d stamp out any gossip.’
Eliza could sense her anger rising again. Emile was not about to take this lying down. Instead, he was going to try and approach it with a reasoned argument. ‘For goodness sake,’ he said, ‘you’ve been looking for an excuse to break our arrangement for ages.’
It was true, she knew it was. He’d been especially distracted the last few days. The simple fact was Emile had learnt the secret of his liberation and he now wanted to dispense with her. Yes, a simple fetish had cured him and now he wanted to go off and seduce the glorious Penelope in her ridiculous costumes.
Emile sighed. ‘I’m so bad at explaining myself. I always make an ass of it.’
‘Please leave it, Emile. I don’t want you to call ever again. It was a terrible mistake my ever thinking I could instruct an innocent boy – well, maybe not such an innocent boy. Sooner or later, and the moment you’d found the key to your lusts, you’d have left anyway.’
She was surprised when Emile, who’d gone very pale, shook back his long hair and, fixing her with his devilish gaze, said slowly but determinedly, ‘Well, Eliza, if that’s what you truly wish, I’ll respect you. I think I ought to leave before I say something I might regret.’
Eliza was surprised when Katia Tsarev’s carriage drew up outside, and she rang the bell. Eliza was not so childish as to hide and she answered the door with her chin lifted, although she knew she looked terrible. The truth was she missed Emile terribly.
‘My dear girl.’ Katia stared at her closely. ‘You’ve been crying, haven’t you?’
Eliza sniffed into her handkerchief as she led Katia into the parlour. Emile’s aunt fluffed out her skirts and sat down. ‘Now, what’s this childish nonsense? And don’t lie to me, my girl. Emile’s like a lovelorn cow one moment and a raging idiot the next. You wrought wonders in him, Eliza. He was a changed boy. He had so much confidence he was even talking about marriage and calling on Miss Penelope. However, last week he came home terribly upset and since then I’ve never seen a boy so distracted.’
‘Penelope.’ Eliza tried to mask her misery as her heart contracted painfully. ‘How lovely for him, and much the best choice.’
Katia gave a snort of laughter. ‘Is that what you think? Well, nonsense! Penelope isn’t the woman for him and I’ve told him so. She’ll bore Emile half to death. He requires a woman with more spit and bite to her; indeed, a pinch of spice. Besides which he’s far too young to even consider marriage. Emile needs to see the world before he tethers himself to a wife, and to that end I’ve already suggested a grand tour.’
Katia got up. Coming over, she sat down beside Eliza, covering her hand with her own. ‘You like him well, don’t you, Eliza?’
‘I like him very well.’
‘And yet Emile and you seem to have had a
difference of opinion?’
‘Yes, you could say that.’
‘Such is the way of lovers. But one must see past it.’
‘Katia, we’re not in the least lovers,’ Eliza said sharply. ‘How could you think a thing like that?’
Katia shrugged theatrically. ‘Whatever the nature of your relationship, it’s the measure of affection to cause vortices of anger and constant disagreement, but these things are nearly always resolved.’
Eliza wet her lips; she felt like she was about to burst into tears again.
‘Emile never stops talking about amazing Eliza. Pray, dear, will you continue with your instruction? Last night he came to me and he wouldn’t eat a bite. He thought he was doing the right thing when he left, but now he regrets it and he begged me to talk to you since apparently he has written and you’ve returned all his notes unopened. Please, my dear, whatever it is that’s upset you – and I’m sure it’s nothing but a small peccadillo – you can forgive him and see past it. You see, this little disagreement will set him back deplorably. If I were to say to Emile he must come to you and apologise for whatever it is that caused exception, isn’t there just a slim possibility you might both take up where you left off?’
Eliza sniffed; her heart was palpating strangely. ‘There might be just a tiny chance of it, yes, Katia.’
Chapter Twelve
‘What a pretty mess. I never imagined my little outrage would cause such a tantrum,’ Emile stated, coming into the parlour and sitting on the couch with his hands between his knees. Eliza wondered why she didn’t send him away; she ought to, since he addled her mind. But the moment she saw him her heart beat louder and she was half-crazed with excitement. He looked heartrendingly seductive today in a black shirt with opulent lace ruffles down the front and sleeves, and his striking embroidered frockcoat and silk cravat.
‘Come here, Eliza.’ Before she had a chance to object, he grabbed her, pulling her down onto his lap where Eliza wriggled her buttocks as her new lace contraption bit between her legs. ‘Darling, you must let me try and explain. I know I was very naughty indeed, seducing your clothes like that, and I admit I have a weakness or two, but I promise I’d have soon confessed. Truthfully, I didn’t expect such a reaction from a fiercely independent woman. I thought the worst you’d do was reprimand me, for I’m still aware I require more punishment.’
Eliza peered down on his raven black hair. His lips were very close to her breast. Today she wore a daringly provocative corset with gauze inlay showing the dark shadows of her prominent nipples which Emile was now drawing around with his finger.
‘I’m so dreadfully sorry, Eliza.’
‘And you ought to be,’ she said in mock anger. ‘There’s no use denying it. You have no more need of me. Go on –’ she made a gesture with her hand ‘– run along to Penelope and leave me alone.’
‘Eliza, I haven’t finished. You’re so stubborn; why won’t you listen to me?’ Emile circled her tightly with his arms so she couldn’t wriggle away.
Squeezed against him, Eliza could feel every inch of him, including his rock hard cock. ‘And what about me, you little pervert? You were spying on me; don’t you think I should be angry about that? And you took advantage of me, by propagating the charade long after you knew you were cured. Oh fiddlesticks, the fault’s all mine. I should have exercised more discipline in the beginning.’
‘Wouldn’t it simply be easier if we called this game a stalemate? We ought to wipe the slate clean and start again. You see the fault’s yours as well as mine.’
‘Hah,’ Eliza snorted. ‘How do you arrive at that?’
‘I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you. Yes, it’s true, Eliza. The first time I saw you, you were trying on a hat in the milliner’s and you stirred something in me.’ His gaze roamed over her face. ‘I followed you on several occasions, driven crazy by your fingering of buttons and bows. Then I got to thinking how could I make one of my fantasies come true? How could I make the incredible Eliza Pinch fall in love with me? This resulted in me conniving with Katia to arrange a meeting, my problem the perfect excuse. You’re to blame in that you imprisoned me, binding me with your fetishes more securely than chains.’
‘Poppycock,’ Eliza berated, punching his shoulder with her fists. ‘Let me go.’
‘It’s true, and this time I’ll force you to listen to me. You know you’re too domineering for your own good, my sweet.’
Eliza moaned as, raising her fingers to his lips, he kissed them. She realised she was a fine one to talk because she too had slipped under Emile’s spell without even realising what was happening.
‘And what about Penelope? Apparently you were lusting after her in the park with your tongue hanging out. I can’t help but think the object of the charade was to educate yourself in sex for the delectable minx.’
Emile shook his head. ‘Ah, Penelope. Sadly, I could never love her. Penelope’s too cold and has none of your fire or zest. It was purely her clothes which caught my attention, and you must admit she’s a sight for sore eyes in all her sumptuous velvets and embroidery.’
Eliza raised an eyebrow. ‘If you say so.’
‘You’re not the only one to experiment, Eliza, for my own experiments have been going on for quite some time and I’ve come to an interesting conclusion.’
His hand was sneaking up the inside of her thighs and for once Eliza wanted it to touch the lace harness.
‘You see, I’ve discovered it’s not the woman or the clothes alone which create the effect. It’s the way the clothes and Eliza fit uniquely together, to present me with a conundrum. It’s the way they mould to your rounded body with its irresistible crevices, making it impossible for my fetish to be replicated on anyone else. Yes, the clothes and Eliza create a fascinating combination which cannot be repeated.’
‘And what of my skirt, you cad? You snipped off a good square of fabric.’
‘Yes, I did. I required a souvenir to put under my pillow at night and carry with me to remind me of you. But not simply any souvenir, I wanted the side of the skirt which rubs your crotch.’
Eliza wriggled but she was locked so firmly in Emile’s muscular arms she couldn’t move. Bunching up her skirt, he began to unfasten her shoes and unclip her stockings. Then he slipped open a ribbon on her bodice and gently pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth. ‘Let me tell you another secret. The other day I visited Penelope and stole a ribbon from her hair. I wound it around my cock. However, for the first time, my cock lost its stance.’
‘You’re lying to me. Nothing stops that rigid poker from standing to attention.’
‘This did. And, what’s more, no coercion would make it rise again.’
Eliza’s chest rose and fell and her breathing quickened as Emile’s deft fingers slithered under her skirt, stroking her belly as they moved towards the soft tuft between her legs.
‘Let me show you something.’ Emile let her go, then, jerking open the buttons on his fly, he lifted out his penis. Eliza stared spellbound; it was the first time she hadn’t seen it as rigid as a poker. ‘This is what’s happened since Penelope’s ribbon. It fails to respond even though I’ve kept her gewgaw wound tightly around it.’ Unfastening a ribbon from Eliza’s hair, he held it up, flicking it out with a flourish. ‘Et voilá, work your magic, Eliza.’ Already he was unwinding Penelope’s ribbon and replacing it with her own.
Eliza watched in amazement as the recalcitrant organ twitched and strengthened. It was too much and, without further ado, she grabbed the swelling shaft. Pushing his hands out of the way, she wound the ribbon more securely, bending down to kiss his tip as she did so.
‘I think this scenario would be much better acted out in my bedroom, Emile.’
Now, what would be the most fitting punishment?
Eliza tied Emile to the bed with her stockings and, straddling his chest, she bent down and kissed his lips, carefully arranging the frills and bows at her cuffs and ar
ound her décolletage. ‘Was I mistaken or did I hear you insinuate that you loved me, Emile?’
‘Yes, you did.’
‘I’m not entirely convinced of love. For me to love, my lover would have to be very subservient.’
Emile licked his lips; his cock was as rigid as a poker. ‘I’ve been exceedingly disobedient, sweet Eliza, make me subservient.’
Eliza wriggled forward slowly, hitching up her skirt to offer Emile a flash of her thighs and, finally, her plump little mound with its bespoke harness.
Emile’s eyes glistened. ‘What’s that?’ He peered at the wide piece of lace with the hole. ‘Oh Eliza, let me touch it with my tongue.’
Leaning down, she feathered his lips with her own. ‘You’re not the only one to enjoy a game, Emile, since I’ve been tying and torturing myself for years.’
Emile groaned. ‘You see, I knew it. I knew just how perfect Eliza Pinch would be. We’re the same.’
Emile feasted on the sight of her liqueous, seeping folds, as she slithered up his body to position herself over his mouth. She guided herself right towards the target of his tongue as Emile homed in on her quivering bud, made swollen and raw by the button and lace.
‘Why, the lips are so plump and soft and the little stem with its tiny serpent’s head is a marvel in that it mirrors the cock. Let me rub my tongue against it.’ He was clutching the bedposts in a paroxysm of excitement as his tongue darted out and Emile sucked the small, throbbing bud into his mouth. It seemed that, once departed from his sheltered port, he was now ready to set sail on the high seas of seduction. Approaching her neat nest of pubic hair, he waggled his tongue coaxingly back and forth, sliding it in her slit and rotating it slowly and deliciously.
A Pinch of Spice Page 6