Dark Obsession

by Fredrica Alleyn

  ‘He’s paid to put up with it. Besides, perhaps he was grateful he didn’t have to keep you amused.’

  ‘I need a couple of lessons before the gymkhana,’ said Tania. She looked cross. ‘I hope Mother isn’t planning to monopolise him.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll find time to fit you in!’ laughed Crispian, slipping his hand through her arm. ‘Come on, I’m back now so you won’t be bored any longer!’

  A few days later, Annabel was surprised to find herself summoned to Lord Corbett-Wynne’s rooms. Lady Corbett-Wynne had seemed lethargic and uninterested in everything Annabel had suggested of late, and as she made her way up the stairs she wondered if she was going to be asked to leave. She hoped not, particularly with the dinner and its attendant entertainment only two days away.

  She tapped on the door and waited. There were a few scuffling sounds and then Lord Corbett-Wynne’s voice boomed out for her to come in. Taking a deep breath she pushed open the door.

  At first she couldn’t see the master of Leyton Hall, but what she couldn’t fail to see was the curvaceous blonde-haired girl standing in front of his dressing-room mirror. Her outfit was astonishing. The full breasts were contained by a shiny black leather lace-up bustier; her midriff was bare and her full hips were covered by a matching lace-up suspender belt which held up sheer black stockings. Her light-brown pubic hair peeped out from beneath the bottom of the suspender belt, and to add to the eroticism of the outfit she was wearing long black gloves that laced down the outsides of her arms and ended halfway over her hands, leaving her fingers free. In her right hand she was holding a riding crop.

  Annabel thought the girl looked vaguely familiar, and suddenly she remembered seeing her walking away from Lord Corbett-Wynne’s room soon after her arrival at Leyton Hall. She looked around the spacious dressing room, searching for his lordship, and realised that he was sitting quietly in the far corner, perched on a high stool. He was naked to his waist, where a heavy buckled belt secured a pair of very tight-fitting black leather trousers.

  ‘Sit down, sit down,’ he said sharply, apparently expecting Annabel to ignore the incongruous scene. He waved his hands in the direction of a chair and she realised then that he was wearing handcuffs.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’ll come back another time,’ stammered Annabel, rapidly becoming unnerved by the whole scenario. ‘I thought that you wanted to see me.’

  ‘I do! Sandra wanted to see you as well; she’s heard a lot about you, isn’t that right, Sandra?’

  ‘Yes, your lordship,’ said the girl. Her eyes were bright with suppressed amusement.

  As Annabel stood motionless, Sandra moved across the room and turned the key in the door lock, slipping it inside her bustier and then walking back to her original position. Annabel felt a flicker of fear.

  ‘It’s about my wife,’ continued Lord Corbett-Wynne. ‘She doesn’t seem right to me, much too quiet and agreeable these days. What’s it all about, that’s what I’d like to know. Confided in you, has she?’

  ‘Lady Corbett-Wynne and I only ever discuss work,’ said Annabel, hoping her voice didn’t betray her increasing anxiety. ‘She seems perfectly normal to me.’

  ‘Does she argue with you? Make a lot of fuss about nothing?’

  ‘No, she’s been very co-operative.’

  He nodded. ‘There you are then, there’s something wrong with her. That woman’s never been co-operative with anyone from the day I married her. She won’t even let me in her bedroom any more, but luckily I’ve got other girls happy to take her place. Isn’t that right, Sandra?’ The girl nodded, her eyes scanning Annabel’s face, testing her reaction.

  ‘How about you?’ continued Lord Corbett-Wynne. ‘You’re a pretty filly; there are plenty of costumes here that would fit you.’

  Annabel backed against the door. ‘It’s very kind of you, but this really isn’t my kind of thing,’ she said feebly, wondering if any of the inhabitants of Leyton Hall led what she’d always considered to be a normal sex life.

  ‘Ever tried it?’ She shook her head. ‘How do you know then? Tell you what, we’ll let you watch.’

  ‘I’d rather not,’ said Annabel quickly.

  For a moment Lord Corbett-Wynne’s face lost some of its good humour. ‘I’d rather you didn’t encourage my son and my stepdaughter in their games, but I’ll keep my dissatisfaction to myself as long as you do as I ask.’

  ‘Who told you about that?’ she asked in amazement.

  He smiled. ‘No secrets here, my dear. We’re a very united family, in our own peculiar way.’

  ‘Be quiet!’ said Sandra, her voice hard and commanding. Immediately the man on the stool fell silent. ‘How dare you keep me waiting like this!’ she continued. ‘Don’t you know that I’ve got work to do? I can’t spend all my time here with you.’

  Annabel watched and listened, and her eyes strayed to the increasingly obvious bulge in Lord Corbett-Wynne’s crotch. Sandra walked round and round the stool as she talked, and every now and then she’d let her whip trail over his back or down his chest until it came to rest against his belt. Each time the whip touched him he would draw in his breath sharply, and all the time his erection pressed hard against the tight leather trousers.

  Now Sandra reached down and her right hand played idly with the bulge. ‘Can’t you control yourself better than that?’ she demanded. He hung his head. ‘Very well, I’m going to blindfold you. Perhaps then you’ll manage not to get excited so quickly.’

  ‘No!’ he protested, seemingly genuinely put out. ‘I like to watch you.’

  ‘Be quiet!’ snapped Sandra. ‘If you speak once more without permission I’ll leave.’

  Annabel realised that her own breathing was quickening as she watched Sandra at work, and when the heavily padded blindfold was placed round the seated man’s head she took a half-step forward, fascinated by his helpless vulnerability.

  Sandra glanced at her and smiled knowingly. She could tell that, despite her reservations, Annabel was becoming excited, just as Sandra’s arousal was increasing. Having a third person present had certainly added an extra dimension to the pleasure.

  Very slowly she unzipped Lord Corbett-Wynne’s trousers and then eased his straining penis out of the opening. It was thick and dark, the veins throbbing. Already some pre-ejaculatory fluid had leaked out of the tiny slit at the tip of the glans. With great delicacy Sandra ran the end of her whip along the top of the shaft and then round the head but when he thrust his hips upward she removed it and struck him a stinging blow over his shoulders.

  Without realising it Annabel had moved closer now and she stared down at the massive erection in fascination. She’d never seen a man fettered and blindfolded before, but suddenly she could understand how exciting it was to be the woman and have total control.

  ‘Touch yourself,’ Sandra ordered him. ‘Make yourself bigger, but don’t come.’

  Annabel didn’t think it could be possible – he looked ready to burst already – but with a muffled groan he held out his fastened hands and Sandra carefully poured a little oil into his palms.

  As soon as he let his slippery fingers touch the base of his shaft Lord Corbett-Wynne’s pelvis jerked and he thrust his hips towards the watching women but then fell back on the stool again, straining to keep himself under control.

  Sandra watched as he worked his fingers up and down the lower half of his stem, but after a few seconds she lost patience. ‘Move higher, I know that’s what you prefer,’ she instructed him. Reluctantly he obeyed, and now the glans turned an even darker shade of red and the angle of his erection increased until it was pointing up to his stomach.

  ‘He’s very near,’ whispered Sandra to the silent Annabel. ‘Why don’t you take him in your mouth? When I speak he’ll realise what we’ve done and that will really finish him off.’

  Annabel was shocked to realise that this was something she wanted to do. The intensity of Lord Corbett-Wynne’s sexual arousal, the whole atmosphere in the room as his leat
her-clad mistress stalked around him, everything about the scene seemed to call to Annabel to take part, to experience yet another new sensation.

  Sandra ran her fingertips down his lordship’s heaving chest, stopping at his waist to trail them from side to side until a gasp of anguish from him made her stop. ‘Where’s your famous self-control?’ she asked with a sneer in her voice, but the words only increased his excitement and yet more clear fluid seeped out of his slit.

  ‘Now I’ll have to lick you clean,’ Sandra said irritably, but she motioned towards Annabel with her head. Annabel knew that an opportunity like this wouldn’t come again, and suddenly she found herself down on her knees, her mouth opening to take the large, velvet-skinned glans between her lips.

  ‘You have to last for three minutes,’ said Sandra, knowing full well that he wouldn’t. Then, much to her delight, Annabel took the throbbing penis into her mouth and began to caress the sensitive ridge beneath the glans with her tongue.

  As she worked she felt her own desire growing, not for the man in front of her, but for Sir Matthew Stevens. She wished that he was there watching, and that once Lord Corbett-Wynne had taken his pleasure Sir Matthew would take her in his arms, carry her to the nearest bed and then take her swiftly and without any preliminaries.

  Inflamed by her own thoughts, Annabel increased her attentions to the now audibly gasping man on the stool. After teasing him lightly with her tongue she suddenly changed rhythm and began to suck on the bursting rod and at the same time she grabbed hold of the chain of his handcuff and pulled his hands to the base of his shaft.

  Sandra smiled to herself. It was the best thing Annabel could have done and she hadn’t needed any prompting. As Lord Corbett-Wynne’s hands brushed against the base of his erection Sandra spoke.

  ‘Use your fingers again; work them up and down to add to your pleasure.’

  James couldn’t believe his ears. He’d been picturing Sandra’s mouth closed about him, enjoyed the feel of her lips encasing his manhood in the way he liked best and yet now, even as the delicious suction continued, she was speaking to him. His brain raced for a few seconds and then he realised what must be happening. At the moment of realisation Annabel’s hands grasped his and he was forced to obey Sandra’s final instruction.

  It was too much for him to bear and with a loud shout of triumph he felt his sperm rushing upwards and then gushing out of him into Annabel’s greedily receptive mouth, a mouth that continued to milk him remorselessly until his spasming flesh was exhausted.

  Sandra touched the other young woman on the shoulder. ‘He’s finished.’ Slightly dazed, Annabel released him and stared up at the stable girl. ‘I never meant …’

  ‘I know, but it’s exciting, isn’t it?’ Annabel nodded, wishing that there was some way her own excitement could be appeased.

  Sandra looked down on the masked man. ‘You didn’t last three minutes; you only lasted two. Annabel can choose your forfeit.’

  Suddenly Annabel knew what she wanted. Unbelievably, she found that she didn’t care about the other girl watching, or even what Lord Corbett-Wynne wanted; all she cared about was her own satisfaction. Swiftly she slipped off her skirt and panties and sat down across his lordship’s legs, unfastening the front of her blouse as she faced him.

  Sandra pushed firmly on the back of his head and as he moved it forward his mouth encountered Annabel’s naked breasts. Immediately his tongue flicked over one of the throbbing nipples and she felt it grow tight and hard. Between her thighs there was a hot ache and she rocked herself to and fro on his leather-covered thighs until Sandra, realising what was needed, released his hands from the cuffs, enabling him to run his right hand down from the valley between Annabel’s breasts to the valley hidden between her thighs.

  As he parted her sex-lips and searched for the little bud that she knew would trigger her climax, Annabel felt him drawing her nipple and the surrounding tissue deeply into his mouth, sucking and licking frantically at her.

  Already aroused by all that had gone before, Annabel’s clitoris quickly responded to the skilful manipulations of his fingers and within seconds she was balanced on the edge of her climax. She loved that moment, the moment when all the tension and heat gathered together into a focal point. She wanted to savour it, but Lord Corbett-Wynne suddenly slipped two fingers up around her clitoris in a V-shape, softly squeezing the fingers closer together until she could feel the pressure, at which point he stopped and the fingers remained quite still so that the pressure was maintained and all the time his mouth was tugging and suckling at her breast.

  Annabel closed her eyes, still trying to delay that final moment of gratification a few seconds longer, but she couldn’t. Small shock waves travelled from where his fingers held her, up to her nipples, and as his teeth grazed the very tip of one she finally gave up the battle and allowed her body the release it craved.

  Sandra watched as Annabel shook and trembled on Lord Corbett-Wynne’s lap, her mouth slightly open and her eyes closed as she revelled in the sheer sensuality of it all. The girl groom had an urgent desire to join in, to tease the free breast with the tip of her whip or replace his lordship’s fingers with her own, but she knew that wasn’t part of her role and had to content herself with watching.

  When the last tremors of her orgasm had died away Annabel’s eyes opened and she shook her head, trying to work out how she’d ever allowed herself to take part, but her replete body was all the answer she really needed.

  Climbing off the masked man’s lap she pulled on her discarded clothing and walked over to Sandra. ‘The key, please,’ she said calmly. Sandra retrieved it from her bustier and handed it over without a word.

  As she unlocked the door to let herself out, Annabel glanced back for one final look. Sandra was unfastening his lordship’s blindfold and his hands were already reaching for her tightly laced breasts. Silently, Annabel left them. Martin had been right, she thought, once she regained the privacy of her own room. She was learning a lot about life at Leyton Hall.

  For a time she sat on the side of her bed and considered what had been happening to her since her arrival. Quite apart from the work, which for some strange reason no longer seemed to be of much interest to Lady Corbett-Wynne, she’d become involved with Crispian and Tania in the kind of sexual games that she’d never in her wildest dreams imagined existed. Now, as though that wasn’t enough, she’d allowed Lord Corbett-Wynne to demonstrate his own particular fetish in front of her very eyes. The old Annabel would have been shocked, she thought to herself, but the new Annabel hadn’t just stayed – she’d stayed and taken part.

  Wide-eyed she studied herself in the dressing-table mirror. She looked the same; her eyes were still wide and guileless, her face softly feminine but not overtly sexual, yet she didn’t feel the same. All the time now she was aware of her body; her skin felt sensitive, all the nerve endings nearer the surface, and her breasts would swell and the nipples harden at the slightest provocation. Worst of all, despite everything that she’d done with such enjoyment, she was being consumed with desire for Matthew Stevens.

  The old Annabel would never have been so stupid. In the pre-Leyton Hall days if Annabel saw a man that she liked and nothing came of it then she quickly forgot him. This time she couldn’t get Sir Matthew out of her thoughts. In the daytime she’d imagine meeting him by chance in one of the large, deserted rooms and at night her dreams were of the pair of them locked together in a darkly erotic embrace, driving each other to fever pitch so that she woke drenched in perspiration and with a deep ache between her thighs.

  ‘I’m going to have him,’ she said softly to her reflection. ‘I know we’re meant for one another and I want him. I’m not going back to London until I’ve had a chance to find out if sex with him is as good as I think it will be.’

  The reflection didn’t answer, but it smiled and Annabel realised that she was smiling in anticipation. The only problem was Lady Corbett-Wynne, whose lack of interest in Leyton Hall was, Ann
abel thought, almost definitely due to an affair with Matthew. He and Marina were close in age and lived similar lives, especially now she was taking riding lessons. All Annabel could do was wait for the night of the dinner party and trust that Crispian had been telling her the truth.

  Giving herself a mental shake, she at last got out her plans for the house. She was very pleased with her ideas for the entrance lobby, and her employer had seemed delighted. She’d used an arched trellis screen and numerous plants to provide cover for the rubbish that would always be deposited there, and replaced the narrow marble table with a round, pedestal-style one in tan and cream, round which she planned to have three green lacquer chairs, while the floor would be pale-green Italian tiles. The music room too had met with approval, but still the dining room was a major stumbling block.

  Reluctantly she went downstairs to have yet another look at what was rapidly becoming a nightmare room. Carefully, she consulted her colour charts and checked the design of the room itself. It was far too large for Lady Corbett-Wynne’s ideas to work. If it was all white with light furniture, it would look like a cross between an operating theatre and a French café, thought Annabel with a laugh. No, somehow she had to come up with more than her original suggestion of using green and pink fabrics combined with a new lighting system.

  ‘Red!’ she exclaimed suddenly as she gazed at the wall at the farthest end. ‘That’s it. If that wall were to be red and the woodwork stained just a shade lighter, then the other walls could be a neutral colour and lighten everything, but the room wouldn’t lose its richness.’

  Excited that at last inspiration had struck she began to jot down all the changes that would be necessary, including some trompe l’oeil niches where Lord Corbett-Wynne’s plaster maquette horses by George Stubbs could be shown to good advantage.