He listened attentively as she related the events of the previous night. She made no effort to deny how much she had enjoyed it.
‘It’s obvious you were set up,’ he said afterwards. ‘The invitation to the club was a ploy to get you out of the way, so that the intruders could be certain of having the house to themselves.’
‘But who would want to do that, apart from Mountjoy?’ she cried.
‘Whoever it is, they did their homework,’ KT replied. ‘They knew your date of birth, and that you were a member of The Master’s Masque – they even knew the code for your alarm system, so they didn’t have to go to the trouble of breaking in. Christ knows what else they know about you.’
‘Thanks, that makes me feel much better. What am I going to do?’
‘I’ll do a little detective work,’ he said. ‘It’s probably just some crank with a grudge. My guess is they’ve made their point, so they won’t bother you again.’
‘All the same, I’d feel much better if you could stay with me tonight.’ Constance almost cringed when she realised how pathetic her plea for protection sounded.
‘I have a better idea,’ he replied. ‘Why don’t you stay at my place for a few days, just until I see if I can get to the bottom of this?’
‘I’d like that,’ she said eagerly. ‘But what about Gina?’
‘Don’t you worry about Gina,’ he assured her. ‘She won’t have any objections.’
The idea of living in a ménage à trois held a certain appeal for Constance, though she would have preferred to have her master all to herself. Even though she was given a guest bedroom across the hall, she expected to spend most of her nights in KT’s bed. Gina was even more enthusiastic about the arrangement, mainly because it afforded her ample opportunity to indulge in sapphic pleasures. Constance soon realised she had presented the couple with an ideal opportunity to keep her as a plaything. As long as most of the playing was done with KT, she did not mind.
The following Sunday morning, S/M-FM broadcast a two-hour live S/M session from the mansion. In addition to KT, Marlo and another middle-aged master she had not previously met were present. Constance, as always, was the Slave in the Hot Seat. Masters were invited to call in and decide what punishments she should suffer at the hands of the three men in the room.
‘I’m hot, naked and kneeling at the feet of my masters,’ she breathed into the microphone at the beginning of the show. ‘What we are doing tonight on S/M-FM is making a Slave in the Hot Seat video, with you – the listeners – directing proceedings. My masters will carry out your instructions and I will, of course, willingly submit to all. The master who calls in with the most creative humiliation for me to submit to will receive a copy of the video, so please, show me no mercy.’
She had only agreed to this latest innovation when KT explained that the faces of all participants in the sado-session would be concealed. He and the middle-aged master wore reflective shades and garish silver face-paint. Constance wore a red latex mask, with apertures for her eyes and mouth. Marlo would be spending his time behind the camcorder.
As expected, the listeners to S/M-FM responded eagerly to the challenge. Within twenty minutes Constance was in full bondage. She was doubled over, wearing nothing but her hood and matching high heels. Her wrists were manacled to the chrome spreader bar between her ankles, which kept her legs wide apart. Two thick ropes suspended from the rafter directly overhead were bound tightly around her breasts. Another pair was knotted round her thighs, ensuring she was in no danger of losing her balance.
KT had set a few simple rules to ensure the challenge ran smoothly. No master was allowed more than ten minutes on-air. All directions would have to follow a reasonable logic, so one caller could not demand that Constance be tied up, only for the next to order her untied again. Within these constraints, virtually anything was possible.
She had asked for no mercy, and none was offered. Her nipples and labia were clamped, then KT’s riding crop was called into action. The caller decreed that she receive two dozen strokes on her backside. While she was being thrashed, she would lick the boots of her other master.
This punishment, which left her buttocks streaked crimson, was but a preliminary for the next caller. He instructed both masters to give her a good spanking, stopping only when her rear cheeks were almost hot enough to burn toast on. As they carried out the request, Constance was required to keep her listeners entertained with an explicit confession. She obligingly related what had happened to her in the biker bar as part of her initiation tests. Her narrative was interspersed with squeals of pain and the sound of two palms slapping her fleshy buttocks.
‘Why don’t you start by screwing her?’ the next caller demanded.
Without hesitation, the middle-aged master unzipped his trousers and smacked his cock against Constance’s inflamed bottom. As soon as it had swollen to full stiffness, he penetrated her from behind.
‘Is he fucking you, slave?’ the caller demanded excitedly.
‘Yes, master,’ she gasped.
‘Tell me how it feels.’
‘It feels… good, master… Ohhh, so good!’
‘Do you have any candles close to hand, gentlemen?’ the caller enquired.
KT confirmed that they had. When Constance heard what the man on the other end of the line wanted done to her next, she protested at the top of her voice.
‘What’s the matter, slave?’ the harsh voice sneered. ‘Did I not hear you say you wanted no mercy?’
Ignoring her continuing pleas, KT lit a fat white candle and tilted it over her. As the wax melted, it dripped down onto her buttocks, each scalding droplet eliciting a sadistically gratifying yelp of agony. Encouraged by the sound, the master behind her increased the ferocity of his thrusts into her hot sex.
‘Oh yes, that’s what I like to hear!’ From the tone of the caller’s voice, it was obvious that he was masturbating. He urged her masters to fuck her even harder. It was almost as if he could see the action unfolding in the room.
KT and the other man were only too happy to carry out his wishes. By the time the caller reached his breathless climax, Constance’s buttocks were practically covered in blobs of solidified candle wax. For the benefit of the video recording, the master inside her withdrew as he reached his peak. He came enthusiastically over her back and buttocks, providing a spectacular finish to part one of the video.
‘CB has now been untied and is crawling around naked on all fours,’ KT informed the listeners shortly afterwards. ‘What shall we subject her to next? Masters, the camera is still rolling and you are in the director’s seat. Your slave is at your mercy, so don’t keep her waiting.’
As she crawled in a circle the second master flicked the white waxen lumps from her buttocks with the tip of the riding crop. Within minutes another caller was suggesting it might be a good idea to tie her up again.
Constance stood on a chair, a rope wound tightly around her waist, securing her hands by her sides. Her ankles were roped to the arms of the chair and her breasts bound together by yet another rope. At the caller’s request, KT took up a slimline whip and began energetically flailing her squashed breasts with the hard leather tongue.
Before the entertainment finally ended, a further five callers had contributed their sadistic suggestions. Her bottom received ten strokes of the cane, weights were added to the clamps on her nipples and labia and her breasts were subjected to the hot wax treatment. For the final indignity, KT masturbated over her left shoe, then removed it and held it up for her to lick clean. The eye of the camcorder lingered on the sight of her tongue poking through the slit of her mask, lapping up the cream from the shiny black leather.
All the guests remained at the mansion for the rest of the night. Constance was too tired and sore to muster up much enthusiasm for an orgy, but a few glasses of wine and a soothing cold cream lovingly applied to her bottom by Marlo
soon changed her mind. In his bedroom, KT played back the video of her earlier torments. The light from the television screen flickered over the five naked bodies on the king-sized bed. With two cocks stuffed into her mouth, a third in her pussy, and Gina’s mouth on her breasts, the star was far too busy to cast more than an occasional glance at her blue movie début.
Chapter 14
Constance returned home on Sunday evening, even though KT was no closer to discovering the identity of her malicious intruder. Whoever it was, she resolved they would not be allowed to drive her from her own home.
Among the messages on her answering machine was a call from a Mistress Amber. She left a contact number and requested Constance to give her a call. She had to think for a few minutes, before remembering that this was the woman whose recent foray into politics she had sold herself to assist. Even with all the media attention, the dominatrix had garnered less than five hundred votes.
She waited until late that night before returning the call. She was as curious to discover how the woman had obtained her home telephone number as she was to learn the reason for the call.
‘KT was good enough to give me your number,’ the husky-voiced mistress explained. ‘Don’t worry, I haven’t written it down anywhere, so the police won’t chance across it if I’m raided again.’
‘What is it you want?’ Constance demanded.
‘To thank you for what you did for my campaign,’ she replied.
‘It was my pleasure.’
‘I’m sure. Now, it would be my pleasure to repay you. I have an idea you might just find exciting.’
Constance knew she might well be setting herself up for yet more trouble, but Mistress Amber’s idea appealed strongly to the foolhardy nature that was coming ever-increasingly to the fore. Nevertheless, it still took several days to make up her mind to accept the dubious reward for campaign services rendered.
She took a taxi to the Bayswater address and looked around nervously as she descended the steps to the basement apartment. Her recent unpleasant experiences made a certain degree of paranoia seem almost prudent.
A tall and slender woman answered the door. Constance was surprised to see that she was in her mid-twenties and exceptionally attractive, not at all the hard-faced, middle-aged madam she had been expecting. However, she was dressed for the role, in vertigo-inducing spike-heeled shoes, shiny black PVC stockings and a tiny matching dress that scarcely covered her hips and left an abundance of lightly tanned cleavage on display. She smiled at Constance’s disguise of raincoat and headscarf.
‘I’m glad you didn’t change your mind about coming,’ she breathed, escorting her into a small room.
‘I almost did,’ Constance replied, surveying the small pile of pornographic magazines spread out on the coffee table. ‘Is this the waiting room?’
Amber laughed. ‘Something like that. The client isn’t due for at least half an hour, so you have time for a drink before you get changed.’
‘Changed?’
‘Into your working clothes,’ she explained. ‘This gentleman has a fondness for uniforms. He’s one of my regulars – almost an old friend, at this stage. I wouldn’t have invited you along otherwise.’
‘Do you always have a partner when you’re with him?’ asked Constance.
‘To tell you the truth, you’re a special surprise,’ Amber replied, handing her a glass of red wine. ‘Like you, this man stuck his neck out to help me with my election campaign. I thought it would be a nice idea to reward you both at the same time. If you’re having second thoughts about going through with this though, I won’t be offended.’
‘Actually, now I’m here, I’m rather looking forward to it,’ Constance replied. ‘Tell me more about this client of yours. Is he kinky?’
By the time the doorbell rang, half an hour later, both women had changed into uniform. Amber’s crisp white nurse’s outfit scarcely covered her hips, leaving several inches of lightly tanned thigh visible above the tops of her pale silk stockings. Constance’s uniform consisted of her high heeled shoes and a similarly skimpy white dress.
Amber hurried to answer the door, leaving her alone in the playroom at the rear of the apartment. The furniture and fittings, the centrepiece of which was a double bed draped with a black rubber sheet, would have done the dungeons of The Master’s Masque proud. Stroking the handle of one of the whips on the rack by the bed, Constance shuddered with anticipation. Amber had told her little about Mr W, but enough to make her confident she was going to enjoy making his acquaintance.
She was growing impatient by the time the door of the playroom finally opened again. Amber entered, followed by a heavily built man in his mid-fifties, wearing large gold-rimmed spectacles and a painfully obvious dark brown toupée. At the sight of Constance perched seductively on the black leather chair by the bed, he stopped as though he had run into a wall.
‘I did tell you to expect something special,’ Amber said, smiling at his gawking expression.
‘Hello, master,’ Constance greeted, her smile as inviting as her pose.
‘Hello indeed,’ he breathed, unable to believe his eyes.
‘This is my friend, Connie,’ Amber said, helping him out of his jacket. ‘I hope you don’t mind my inviting her to join us.’
‘Oh, I think I shall be just about able to tolerate her presence,’ he replied.
While Amber unhurriedly removed the client’s clothes, arousing him with hints of the pleasures he was soon to experience, Constance remained in the chair, her legs seductively crossed. The man did not take his eyes off her for even an instant, and she in turn kept her gaze and smile unwaveringly fixed on him.
‘Mm, now that’s what I like to see,’ Amber purred as she tugged his shorts down over his hips to reveal his swollen cock rearing against his hairy belly.
Constance licked her lips and murmured her agreement.
The man approached the bed and lay back like a king in repose, his eyes still feasting on Constance. Amber knelt beside him, gently stroking his belly with one hand and his cock with the other.
‘Your friend doesn’t say much,’ he grunted.
‘Connie is somewhat new to all this,’ she answered. ‘She’s just a little shy.’
‘Little prick-teaser, more like,’ he retorted. ‘She looks the kind of girl who prefers to give orders, rather than take them.’
‘Oh no, master,’ Constance protested. ‘I know my place, I assure you.’
‘In that case, you should know not to speak out of turn,’ he snapped. ‘I think you need to be reminded in no uncertain terms of who’s the boss here. Bring me a whip, at once.’
Amber had already warned her that her client would be eager to break in the ‘new girl’ and Constance was delighted that she was being proved correct. She already knew which one the master would want, but purposely lingered over the selection until he barked at her to hurry up.
Returning to the bed, she handed him the whip that Amber had previously advised her was his favourite. The handle, crafted from sterling silver and intricately embossed, resembled that of a ceremonial dagger. Instead of a lethal blade sprouting from the hilt, there were a dozen strands of hard black leather, woven into a single long devil tongue. Just touching it caused Constance to shudder with anticipation.
‘You won’t be the first young lady to be put in her place by this beauty,’ the master told her, touching the cold steel of the handle to her lips. ‘Handcuffs and ropes, if you please, Amber.’
Like a perfect servant, the other woman fetched the required items. Constance could not conceal her surprise when the master then commanded her to handcuff him to the head of the bed. In any previous bondage games it was always she who had been tied up. However, it was not her place to tell the customer what was best for him.
After he had been fitted with the handcuffs, he ordered Constance to crouch above him, as if ab
out to lower herself onto his cock. Obeying his instructions, Amber unzipped her companion’s dress halfway to her navel. Constance’s breasts spilled forth, her rock-hard nipples brushing the master’s hairy chest. It was clear that, though he was handcuffed, he had no intention of taking the submissive role. Instead, he was going to use Amber as a surrogate mistress.
Amber fitted Constance with a spiked black leather collar. Dangling from the back of this was a red elastic rope, with a set of steel clamps on the end. She produced another pair of stretchable ropes with clamps on either end. The ropes were first attached to Constance’s nipples, then those of the master, who grunted excitedly.
‘Get her arse bare for the whip,’ he panted.
Quarter-moons of pale flesh were already visible below the hem of Constance’s rubber dress. Amber tugged it up further, leaving her cheeks completely bare. She then drew the elastic rope dangling from Constance’s collar into the cleft of her buttocks and fitted the clamps to her pussy. The tug on Constance’s labia was more painful than she cared for, but she did not wish to spoil the fun by being a cry-baby.
In the large oval-shaped ceiling mirror directly above the bed, the master had a perfect view of her rear end. For starters, he decreed that she should receive twenty lashes. Amber applied the punishment zealously, having been warned that she would receive twice the amount herself, if the master thought that she was sparing her friend. Each crack of the whip on her buttocks was accompanied by a loud yelp from Constance.
‘That’s brought a pretty glow to her cheeks,’ the master grinned afterwards. ‘How was it for you, Connie?’
‘Delightful, thank you, master,’ she gasped.
‘Delightful,’ he repeated. ‘Amber, this slave is obviously made of sterner stuff than I thought. Let’s see how delightful she finds three dozen strokes of the cane.’
‘Master, show some mercy!’ Constance shrieked.
All for Her Master Page 16