I gulped, feeling trepidatious. This may have been a door too far. These implements looked dangerous, and Regina had gone missing. What if she’d gotten hurt in here—even died? And they’d done away with her body? Suddenly this didn’t seem like such a fun game anymore.
“What’s wrong dear? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Madam Cecilia smiled as we stood just inside the door. “It’s all right to back out if these toys look too intimidating for you, especially on a first visit.”
“No, it’s all right—better have a look around.”
She nodded, approving. “Of course. Now one important rule about this room compared to all of the others is that only a Trained Madam, such as myself or Frances—you met her, she’s watching the door this evening—are allowed to discipline and correct Maids in here. If an inexperienced girl tried to use this equipment, she’d likely hurt herself and her friend. If no Madams are available, the door stays locked, no exceptions.”
“I understand,” I said, eyeing the dangerous gear warily. “Sounds like a wise precaution.”
“Indeed it is. Now, if you’d like to play, I will go gentle on you as it’s your first time, or you can watch me discipline Audrey. I’d been working her over before you turned up, but a proper submissive takes well to the box.”
“Perhaps I’ll watch a bit first,” I said.
“Wonderful.” She went over to a lidded coffin, then opened it. I followed her over and looked inside. Lying within, her hands manacled together, her mouth restrained by an elaborate leather harness and gag, her body otherwise entirely nude save for some straps and contraptions around her groin, lay a fair-skinned, auburn-haired woman.
I looked closer at her face. Sweat covered her forehead and her eyes blinked against the sudden intrusion of light—I assumed that she’d been left in this coffin ever since Madam Cecilia came downstairs to give me this tour, possibly longer. But beside her nose lay a small mole, almost unnoticeable as it nearly matched the color of her skin. Here was the missing Regina!
I studied the contraption around her groin. It looked like a series of leather straps, close-fitting around her waist and down between her thighs and across her crotch, with metal studs on the exterior. The portion over her pussy had a portion that unlaced and it lay open now, showing a smooth scrimshaw dildo wrapped in velour jammed down her cunt.
Mistress Cecilia helped the prisoner-of-love to her shaking feet, then guided her over to a bench. As they went that way, I got a look at the prisoner’s backside. Her bottom was criss-crossed with red whip marks under the leather straps, and a similar pocket or pouch against her bottom-hole held another dildo in place, only its final inch protruding from her gaping asshole. I didn’t know how she could walk in that arrangement but she did, gingerly, only a few steps at a time.
The whole time Madame Cecilia petted her and fussed over her, stroking her cheek and tender bottom, giving her little kisses for being such a ‘good little bottom-Maid’ as she put it. Audrey—Regina—smiled through her leather gag and appreciated the attention. The Madam carefully removed her restraints, including the gag, the crotch harness and the dildos penetrating both of her nether openings. She placed them in dust-bin, presumably for cleaning.
“Take a seat pet, and when you’re feeling better, come assist me.” The auburn-haired woman nodded in reply.
Then Madam Cecilia walked back to me.
I flushed. I’m not sure I was quite up to the task of being put in a box, lashed up and stuffed in all my orifices with gags and dildos. On the other hand, the thrill of surrendering myself to such a paragon of dominance such as Madam Cecilia appealed to me. She was such a heavy, wicked woman it excited me no end—she matched my physical predilections for certain types of play so precisely.
“Now my pretty, would you like to stay or would you like to go?” she asked.
I hesitated only a moment. “I’d like to stay and serve you, Madam Cecilia.”
“Good,” she said. “I thought you might.” She moved behind me, untying my apron and tossing it away, removing my maid’s cap and the pink ruff of a novice too. She left me naked save for my stockings and garter belt, then manacled my hands together, the arms put together in front of me. The cool metal bit into my wrists.
“Lay down,” she said, leading me over to a silk couch. “On your back. That’s right. Now put your feet up in the straps. We want to be able to get at all of your treats.”
I did so, but inadequately, and she grabbed me my feet and with her strong arms positioned me properly.
Regina rose from her seat and came over to help, with a clean mouth gag taken from a peg. “Madam, maybe she’d like to wear this,” she suggested in a demure voice.
“Top idea,” the Madam agreed, taking the gag and fixing it over my head like a bridle for a horse. A leather bit went into my mouth, covering my tongue and separating my teeth. It also filled my throat, making it impossible for to talk.
Madam Cecilia then took a dildo from the shelf, a smooth thing of porcelain or similar substance, wrapped in a light cloth sheath. She also handed Audrey a pot of some paste or lotion. “Go and loosen up her puss and bum for me, will you dear?” the Madam asked. “I’ll be right back: I need to make water, so I’ll go and give the Undines a treat.”
She left, the black oak door closing behind her.
Here was my chance—alone with Regina at last! Except the gag in my mouth prevented speaking. What a cruel twist of fate.
“You’re new,” Regina said, getting up on the bed and kneeling beside me. “Rather pretty, haven’t seen you in before.” She pushed the cloth-wrapped dildo against her pussy lips, then held it to my nose. Obliging her, I sniffed. It seemed she’d been picking up a few tips on training from her Madam.
She positioned herself behind me, out of sight, but in a few moments I felt her greasy fingers prying apart my butt cheeks and she slid the dildo in, roughly and without much warning.
I groaned into the gag, moving my legs and sliding around on my ass, struggling away from that intrusive member.
Relentless, she pushed it in further, grabbing hold of the short, blonde curls of my pussy hair to hold me in place, pulling them sharply so that it hurt my skin. Meanwhile she kept pummeling my anus with the dildo, opening me open and filling my backside with a deep, excruciating ache. It felt like something knifing through me, like I split apart inside.
Perhaps sensing my discomfort or her lack of expertise, she relented a bit, leaving the dildo in place, instead slaking her thirst for kink by crushing her face against my cunny, rolling her mouth all around it, slobbering on me then driving her tongue into my folds. Like a hungry diner, she slurped across my mound then opened up lips before diving her tongue into my vagina. Vigorously she worked on me, teasing the pearl of my clit and driving me into a heat growing heat that could easily build into a frenzy.
Just then Madam Cecilia returned. As she walked past me, I saw a jaunty strap on dildo harnessed to her groin. It looked to be double-bladed, with on portion tucked deep into the intimate and cavernous mouth of her cunt. The other end glistened with love-oil, ready for usage in a compliant maid. My eyes went wide.
“What are you doing?” Madam Cecilia demanded of Regina.
Regina pulled back onto her haunches, abashed. “Loosening her up, Madam Cecilia.”
“You’re having a gamahuche, you naughty tart,” Cecilia said. “If your arse weren’t already more criss-crossed than a railroad station, I’d bend you over a pillory and give you a good hiding. Go into the Undine Room and drink from one of the basins. That is your punishment.”
No, I didn’t want to lose sight of Regina! I struggled in my bonds, shouts muffled by the gag in my mouth. Fortunately, I had an idea.
“What’s that?” Cecilia asked, removing my gag. Regina hung at her shoulder, curious and awaiting further instructions.
“Madam Cecilia, I’ve been a naughty tart too—and I must make water.”
The Madam’s eyes lit up. “Oh, how splend
id convenient. Audrey Pussycakes, position yourself where you were. Blanche, whenever you need to release yourself, you go right ahead.” She knelt at my head now, cradling me and lifting me up so I could look down my body.
Regina, somewhat abashed and blushing deeply, resumed her kneeling position much more meekly. She slowly drew the dildo out of my arse-hole and put it to one side, then knelt compliantly between my legs, eyes shut and her mouth open, tongue outstretched beneath my lips. Her fingers opened up my lips, exposing my pee-hole.
“Good girl, take your time” cooed Cecilia, petting my hair.
In truth it became hard to go in front of the others, in part because of the embarrassment and in part because I didn’t quite have to go too badly yet. But soon, the first few drops came. Little golden droplets trickled out, landing on Regina’s tongue and she lapped them up, quick-like.
But that was all. The flow stopped, dried up.
“What’s wrong?” Cecilia asked.
“I didn’t get much,” said Regina.
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” I blushed.
“I have an idea,” said Madam Cecilia. “We’ll spank the pee out of you. Come on, up with you.” She led me over to yet another bench, this one broad enough for ample posterior and as she sat across it. She positioned me across her knees, settling me just so. My upturned rump gave her easy access to my bottom across the broad, fleshy expanse of her thighs. “You too Pussycakes, over here.”
Regina dutifully followed and did as Madam Cecilia directed, which was to sit on the floor between her legs, beneath me, with her mouth glued to my cunny like a siphon.
“Now when she goes, you must drink up every drop, Audrey,” Cecilia told her. “Or you’ll be cleaning this nice floor up yourself, with sponge and tongue.”
With that, Madam Cecilia commenced to spanking me across her knees, without even so much as a warning or a by-your-leave. The first blow came unexpectedly, a sharp, resounding smack that echoed through the room and sent my flesh quivering. I could only groan, my manacled wrists dangling below, palms flat to the floor.
It hurt so much, even though her strong, heavy hands worked with skill and dedication, burning only the meaty rounds of my ass, alternating between the cheeks with a staccato rhythm. I felt the warm flush of vessels breaking beneath the skin and knew my bottom must be as red as a beet by now.
She paused on occasion, to catch her breath or to give a me a break between the waves of pain. During these moments, her intrusive middle finger liked to wiggle up and explore my bumhole, while beneath me Regina took every opportunity to press her face against my warm and excited mound with the avid fervor of a true Sapphist. She licked, sucked and tongued me with even more mad passion than she had when left unattended, but this time Madam Cecilia did not correct her for her vigorous love for my quim.
Then the slapping of my upturned and exposed bottom began again and Madam Cecilia’s relentless hands became my entire universe. The pain warmed me and numbed me and soon mixed with an exquisite pleasure, pushing me into realms I’d never felt before. Gradually, I became aware that I was cumming, the quim just squirting out of my puss now and across Regina’s face. The good little cunnilinguist slurped it all up and demanded more, mouth pressed to my cunt as if she meant to marry it.
Yet still I didn’t pee.
“Time for stronger stuff,” said Madam Cecilia, pulling a short-handled leather crop from out of a drawer in the bench. She flexed it, cracked the air with it, pushed it against my face so I could see it. Then she crammed it against my mouth without a word until I, trembling, pushed my lips against it and kissed it.
The blows from the crop came across my ass sharper and fiercer than her hands, lancing pain across buttocks already sizzling with pain. The tears came—not the sort of water she wanted—and I pushed my palms flat to the floor with all my might as my screams filled the room. One hand cropped my slender, abused cheeks—she played them like drums with whip, while between her legs Regina continued her torment of my pussy, a game that expanded to the pinching and abusing of my nipples.
On the verge of another orgasm and out of my mind with pain and desire, the hoped-for flow suddenly happened, like a dam overflowing and suddenly bursting. The hot gold began to squirt out of my urethra, a relentless torrent of water that seemed almost like my body’s protest, it’s feeble counter-attack against those who treated it in so rough and wanton a manner.
Beneath me, Regina cried out in surprise and then delight, fastening her lips to my opening as if suckling a faucet. Every dram of my torrent went straight into her mouth and down her throat. She gurgled and slurped, greedy as a gin-drinker as she swallowed my filthy pee down to the last drop.
“Quick now, turn her over and let’s have a dab,” said Cecilia. The two of extricated themselves from under me and laid me out on the couch again so that my back lay on the padding and my head and neck were supported under a pad. Madam Cecilia re-positioned her double-bladed dildo and then pushed my legs up into the air, her hands under my knees.
“Sit on her face,” she told Regina. “Give her a good quimming while I ride her with my horse.”
Cecilia lubed up her pipe with the love-ointment, and slipped it against my gates. She moved gently at first, as the double-bladed dildo required some care, as one fat blade was pushed up into her cunny too. But soon she was stroking me with gusto, filling up my pussy and fucking me relentlessly.
At the same time that Regina came and knelt above me, sitting on my face. The room disappeared into darkness, but not before I saw the white and pink delicates of her inner sex lowering down upon, framed by an arch of thick, unruly pubes of vivid maroon shade. Regina knelt so that she was facing Madam Cecilia, which gave her hands free reign to continue teasing and tormenting my vulnerable nipples.
I squirmed and squealed with every vigorous thrust of Cecilia’s plunge into my cunny, feeling the throes of another orgasm building up inside me. The sweet taste of Regina’s cunt fired my senses and she must’ve scented herself all over with honeysuckle for her nethers smelled strongly of it. Not as thick about the middle or large-bottomed as Cecilia, her face-sitting did let me breathe more but was just as intoxicating with its lusty sex. She proved a more vigorous face-sitter too, squirming around and pressing her anus on my nose or mouth, before sliding about to soak my face with her dripping vulva.
My attention remained somewhat distracted by the fact that Madam Cecilia’s vigorous taking of my puss with her device had reached something of a crescendo. She was now screaming out filthy words in a ceaseless torrent as she began to spray and cum. Her double-bladed dildo took both our cunnies at once.
My own orgasm came not a moment later, at the same moment that Regina decided to make an Undine of me by quite unexpectedly raising herself a few inches above me, and opening her inner labia with two fingers. I looked up to see her fingers teasing her urethra and only shut my eyes moments before her golden stream started.
So help me I did it—I drank Miss Regina Waxe’s filthy urine even as I squirted cum all over the dildo shoving so relentlessly in and out of my helpless, gushing cunt. And then I nearly fainted and certainly collapsed: breathless, sated, filled, whipped, aching, burning, ashamed and yet somehow utterly alive, having reached heights of ecstasy I’d never known before.
***
Afterwards, Regina and I soaked in a warm tub built for two, washing each other and getting rid of the unsightly stains and odors that had accumulated during our vigorous frolic with Madam Cecilia. The Madam had sent us away to bathe, then immediately jumped into action behind the Black Door with the two posh Undines in the masks. They needed their bottoms chastised too.
Regina and I stayed in our tub, soaking, and she settled into my arms. We spent nearly twenty minutes without speaking, just kissing and petting.
I kissed the nape of her neck and at last whispered: “You’re Regina, aren’t you? Regina Waxe?”
“How do you know me?” she whispered back, turning her head
to show eyes wide with fright. “You’re breaking the rules to say such a thing.”
I shook my head, tried to calm her. “Shh! It’s all right. I’ve got a message for you.”
“A message? But that’s impossible, nobody knows I’m here.” She splashed around, as if to stand up, but I settled an arm around her waist.
“Steady on. I’m afraid that’s not true,” I whispered. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
She nodded, and we exited the tub, toweling off. Then she took my hand and led me up to the fourth storey. We stepped into a small, private bedchamber. It was empty, and she locked the door before climbing at top the scarlet bedspread and crawling up atop a pillow, cuddling it against her bosom. Her lower lip quavered and she looked about to cry—and not from the fearsome handling by Madam Cecilia, but because I’d discovered her and would make her go home.
“Darling, what’s wrong?” I said, sitting on the bed beside her.
“I won’t go home, I won’t! I won’t marry.”
I smiled sympathetically, understanding her determination. “Then don’t, if you don’t want to.”
“You’re a Yank. What’s it to do with you? Why are you here?”
I stroked her shoulder. “I’m an associate of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He sent me in here to tell you your parents are in a terrible fright. They hired him to find you.”
“They hired Sherlock Holmes to find me? Of all the rotted luck.” She punched the bed, buried her face in the pillows. It had gone ghost pale. “So they know I’m here?”
“No, only Mr. Holmes and I know that. But if progress on your case isn’t made soon, your parents might turn to the newspapers or the police. That could end up with Corset House being raided, a terrible scandal, and a lot of ruined lives.”
“But I don’t want to leave!”
I took a deep breath, let some iron into my voice. “That’s a selfish position, Regina. We’re grown women, we have duties.”
Corset House Page 4