‘Get on with it. Suck my cock, hard and long as if it were real,’ Nadine growled in a low gruff voice that could easily have been that of a man.
Because she hesitated, Nadine dug her fingers in her long, thick hair, thrust her bony hips forward and nudged the larger appendage into Penny’s mouth. Penny took it in, gagging on its length, the taste of plastic, the smooth obscenity of it. The extra one rubbed up and down the bridge of her nose, stiff, yet fairly flexible. It was like a reminder, an example of what was in her mouth.
‘Lick the end,’ Nadine ordered, smiling at the sight before her, and taking a strange pleasure that she was in the position of man, lover, husband . . . or even brother!
Penny licked the end, licked the full length even down to the false balls that were harder than real ones and tasted of talcum powder.
‘That one, too,’ ordered Nadine, her knee bent over Penny’s back as she manoeuvred the upper part of the plastic prick into Penny’s open mouth.
This one was no better. Again, Penny gagged as it slid down into her throat. The lower, larger penis stroked her throat on the outside whilst the one in her mouth stroked the inner.
‘Enough. I’ve favoured you enough,’ said Nadine as she let go of Penny’s hair.
Penny knew what was coming next. She opened her mouth to say something. But Nadine knew what was coming, and she would brook no protest. She’d take it all the way, have her way, and have Penny, too, in the way only a man naturally can – but both orifices at the same time.
Nadine regagged her and Penny resigned herself to what was about to happen. Whatever protests or cries she made against this double intrusion would be heard by no one. And anyway, her sex was moist and needed what was coming.
She felt Nadine’s naked thighs against her own. Nadine’s hands gripped her hips. Both phallic heads nudged at the holes they were destined for. Penny tensed, her legs braced as she prepared for the onslaught.
Almost ready, she thought to herself as one of Nadine’s hands prepared to guide the twin pricks into the holes.
Penny moaned against her gag, then felt the anal probe break the barrier and enter as though it had every right to be there.
‘I’m going to see to you good and proper,’ murmured Nadine. ‘I’m going to fuck you and bugger you all at the same time as you’ve never been done before. And you’re going to love it, just love it!’
Penny didn’t answer. She couldn’t, but if she had been able to, she could only have agreed. But for now, her attention was absorbed by the twin penises pushing their way into her body.
The larger one met with no obstacle and, in time with the strict tempo of Nadine’s movements, her hips began to move, to press back against Nadine as though inviting further invasion, more pleasurable abuse.
She braced herself more firmly, head down on the chair, legs straight and bottom up.
What a beautiful sight I must present, she thought with mounting excitement, the glossy hair of her sex spilling out beneath the silky slit of her vagina and the pink rose of her now-glossy anus.
She groaned her ecstasy as the experience progressed. Her legs trembled. Nadine’s hands held her steady – one on each hip – as she pushed the sex tools in further.
Once the appendages were completely immersed, Nadine began to plunge, slowly at first, in shallow movements until she was sure that Penny’s body was used to the invasion and accepted it as right. As Penny began to groan against the gag and her breasts swung faster with each pounding from Nadine’s hips, Nadine herself began to groan and cry out as the fixings of the appendage rubbed deliciously against her own clit and labia.
Penny heard her cries and, knowing how she was enjoying this, could not help but respond. Nadine showed her no mercy once she knew she could take it. The lunging became fiercer and faster as her breathing increased until Nadine fell forward, her breasts hard and her nipples prominent against Penny’s back. Now she was fully embedded, her hands sought Penny’s breasts. She removed the clamps, replaced them with her own cruel fingers and squeezed her plump orbs in her palms as she pummelled away at Penny’s ravaged holes.
‘I’ve got you, Penny. I’ve got you. You’re all mine!’ cried Nadine as she thrust with all the power of a masculine orgasm.
Penny shoved back against her, her eyes closed as her own climax flowed over her body. Even as her climax shivered her limbs, she pushed backwards against the dildo that invaded her anus, and downwards on the one embedded in her pussy.
Against the silk of the scarf she cried her delight. Wave after wave of trembling ecstasy ran from anus to vagina, vagina to breast and back to anus.
Nadine thrust more aggressively, seemingly lost in another orgasm as the interior of the sex toy rubbed her own clit to the height of sexual expression. They were lost in their enjoyment, smothered in climax. They fell together, sticky body against sticky body, spent, exhausted and willing to sleep till morning.
14
IT HAD BEEN a good day. In the horsebox on the way back from the Royal Forest Show, everyone laughed, joked or sang along to classic pop that blasted out from the radio. There was cause for celebration. The Beaumont team had scored the highest points of the day, and had come away with the most trophies and the best qualifiers for the next season.
Penny was equally pleased. In her mind, she saw the look in Alistair’s eyes when she had carried off the biggest prize of the day. Although she had felt only the body of the horse between her legs, in that one instant, she thought she had him.
Nadine blew a kiss from the back of the Rolls-Royce as it swerved in front of the horsebox to take both her and Alistair back to Beaumont Place ahead of them.
‘Cow!’ muttered Alf who lived down in the village and drove part time for the family now and again.
Alf had sandy hair and matching sandy brows. He wore a flat cap on his head that seemed to lie so heavily on his hair that it burst out from underneath it and stood out all around his head like a fringe of faded thatch.
‘I take it you don’t like Nadine,’ said Penny, though she could see the dislike well enough on Alf’s features.
‘Like her?’ he grumbled before spitting out of the window. ‘Can’t stand the bloody woman. She ain’t all there. She’s a manip . . . manip . . ., makes you do things you don’t want to do. There’s a promise there, and a reward, she says, at the end – but when you get to the end, there’s nothing there.’
‘You’re just jealous, Alf!’ Gregory laughed nervously and glanced at Penny. He’d acted nervously – as though he’d let her down in some way – ever since the night in the forest, and even though she had whispered to him that she had enjoyed the experience, he still felt he was in debt to her.
‘Don’t worry,’ she had assured him as her tongue had dipped into his ear. ‘You can make it up to me.’ Then she scanned her brain to think how that could be achieved.
During their sex games since she’d come to Beaumont Place, she had given into Nadine, had let her be the mistress just so she could help her get Alistair, win her wager with Ariadne and win the stallion. Now with the benefit of familiarity, Penny knew that she had all along been receiving just what she wanted. Nadine might think that she, Penny, was her slave, when in fact, the opposite was true. It seemed incredible just how well she had settled into Beaumont Place, as though she were a cork and had found just the right bottle neck to fit into.
An anxiety had arisen in her mind after it had been hinted that most riders leave after one year, that they are pleased to do so, their departure sweetened with a suitable parting gift of money, property or even horses.
She didn’t particularly want to push her luck, but the anxiety she was feeling could not be ignored. When she got back, she would go straight to Nadine and ask her exactly what the position was. Deep down she knew that neither money nor anything else could replace what she had felt since coming to this place. She wanted to be part of it, to stay here for much longer than a year, perhaps even for ever. She was resolute. She would
speak to Nadine.
She showered first, enjoying the warm lather that trickled in pearl-like drops from the ends of her nipples, ran over her belly and divided into a rush of tributaries that seeped through her mass of pubic hair and down her inner thighs.
By the time she was dressed, she smelt of Narcisse, and her skin felt like silk against the light-green linen of her dress. No underwear, of course, just the dress which was silk-lined and cool against her body.
Her legs were as bronzed and taut as ever, the calves attractively lengthening as she slipped her feet into the high-heeled sandals that shone with a greenish glint and matched her dress exceptionally well. She added a plain gold chain around her neck and let her hair hang free.
‘Now . . .’ she exclaimed, addressing the beautiful woman reflected back at her from the mirror, ‘now to beard the lion.’
The Beaumont private rooms were in the west side of the house, unusually sumptuous, she recalled, and unusually decadent. Alistair’s office was on that side – the room she had entered on that first day when he had required her to walk near-naked through the crowded streets of the town with only a coat between her and decency. A lot of water had gone under the bridge since then, and many inhibitions had been discarded on that day along with a surplus of clothes. That day, she realised, had prepared her for what was to come. It was at that time that the dark desires hidden deep inside had escaped and could never return. Beaumont Place had teased them into flower, and in Beaumont Place they must always bloom.
‘Going to the party?’ Gregory looked clean, but casual. His blue jeans were bright, his shirt crisp, white and contrasting sharply with the glowing healthy tan of his skin. She ran her eyes over him and felt her stomach tighten and her sex tingle. Shining bright like a new-minted coin, his hair fell like satin from his head and tonight was caught at the nape of his neck in a piece of whip-thin black leather.
‘Of course,’ she replied, her eyes meeting his. She wondered just how long it would take him to breach her defences and have her throwing him up against a wall and easing his stalwart cock into her slippery sex.
‘Mind if I walk with you?’ he asked with something vaguely resembling reverence.
Her eyes met his again when she nodded. ‘Yes,’ she answered, ‘I do.’ Then she turned quickly away. She had a task in mind, and he, his body and her own sexuality could very easily get in the way of that. Best avoided, she decided with regret. The truth and her destiny beckoned, and so did Alistair Beaumont. ‘I’d like to be alone if you don’t mind.’
It was obvious he did mind. He looked hurt, and, in the briefest of moments, the longing that throbbed so positively through her veins almost persuaded her to change her mind.
But she set her jaw, looked straight ahead and pressed on regardless, adamant that she would achieve what she set out to do. ‘I’m going to get a little fresh air.’ She hesitated, instinctively knowing that the look on his face would accuse her of lying. ‘I’ll see you later.’
His silence made her feel guilty, but she’d made up her mind. Nadine was not an honest ride and truthful bedfellow, and that annoyed her. There was something more to this brother and sister relationship than met the eye, and she was determined to find out exactly what it was.
Her hand covered the brass handle of the wide double doors that opened on the Beaumont apartments. She was at the other end to where she had entered with Nadine and Clarissa. She levered it down; softly, without even a click, it opened.
The windows were similar, big, high and stretching from crisp white ceiling to polished floor.
The walls were painted terracotta in dramatic contrast with the gilt-edged paintings that hung from the walls, the brocade Louis XIV furniture and the thick-piled Persian carpets that sat in independent squares over the floor.
Not meaning to linger, but being unable to resist, she eyed the paintings. Rubens-like females of pert bosom and pendulous stomach cavorted with men whose over-defined muscles were mismatched with seriously inconsequential cocks.
She licked her lips as she studied the paintings. There were others that were not quite so classic in style, although what they portrayed could not be regarded as purely contemporary. In these, orgies were taking place, goat-footed satyrs thrusting enormous penises into wide-open female gates.
Most of the women appeared submissive, even frightened of what was happening to them, yet still they yielded, unable to resist the lure of the obscene, the animal and the bizarre. One painting above all others forced her to stop dead in her tracks.
There was a chariot, not dissimilar to the one she had been harnessed to in the middle of the woods. Like her, a woman was harnessed to its shafts, satyrs driving her on with leering faces and the flick of many whips.
There was an ecstatic yearning on the woman’s features, as if she wanted to please, to do better than she already had.
Half-watching her, yet apparently enthralled with each other, was a couple. They looked alike. The eyes were the same, and they had the same leanness, the same grey eyes. Although they were fondling each other – the girl holding the man’s penis in her hand, and he appearing to have his finger stuck somewhere between her legs – Penny knew instinctively that these were brother and sister and they should definitely not be doing what they were doing.
Despite the high windows, the room was getting dimmer as a cloudy afternoon folded into twilight.
Penny, the heat of desire drifting slowly down her body, forced herself to walk on.
The door at the far end opened out onto a corridor. Only a small window of dark-blue glass let in a subdued and tinted light. A trio of wall lamps compensated for the lack of natural light, but, like the room she had left behind, the floor was covered by thick Persian and Chinese rugs.
Her feet made no sound, her heels sinking into the plush pile and rich colours of the carpets. At the faint click of what sounded like a door latch, she tried one of the doors beside her and found herself in a small room that had rows of seating like a theatre, but no screen. There was only a window; a vast sheet of glass that looked through into a room beyond it.
At first she ducked down when she saw Alistair and Nadine, until she realised that they could not see her. Engrossed in conversation, they were sat in a gangway between two rows of seats.
‘Tonight, then?’
Nadine stood up suddenly and draped her long hands over her narrow hips, her face questioning. Her brother got up and began to pace up and down, hands in his pockets. He appeared thoughtful and stared mostly at his shiny black loafers and the thick red carpet of the theatre floor.
‘Hmmm.’
‘Well?’ said Nadine with a hint of impatience.
‘Yes. As long as you’re sure.’
‘I’m sure.’
She saw Nadine smile, a brightness in her eyes that Penny had seen so often before, but never with quite the teeth-flashing smile she adopted now.
‘Tell me again,’ Alistair said eagerly. He reminded Penny of a small child who’s been told a story or a secret and wants to hear it all over again. Excitement caught in her belly. Somehow she knew that it was her they were talking about, that the time was ripe for her wager to be won, although winning it was no longer of such great importance.
Nadine was swaying slightly on the high heels of her black patent boots, her matching skirt barely covering the tight orbs of her snow-white bottom. She sighed as if impatient at having to repeat herself.
‘Completely submissive, completely in my control. She’s almost ready for you. After tonight, she’ll be completely pliable. There’s nothing she won’t do.’
‘You’re sure? Are you sure it’s not you that’s hooked, rather than her?’
Nadine looked childishly petulant, and a pink flush coloured her usually pale cheeks. That made Penny smile. Even if Nadine did not accept it as fact, Penny knew it. And strangely enough, so also, it seemed, did Alistair.
‘Of course I’m sure! You’ll find out.’
‘Good.’ Alistair
smiled and, as he did so, Nadine moved toward him like a child about to get a reward for being a good little girl.
‘Are you pleased with me, Aly, darling?’ Nadine asked in an oddly coquettish way.
Alistair’s white teeth flashed, and suddenly Penny could see just how alike they really were; just how much one depended upon the other.
Penny remembered the couple in the painting, both standing to one side and watching the woman who had been harnessed to the chariot and the hoard of satyrs, clinging on behind, their overlarge cocks waving like baseball bats behind her.
‘Beautiful stallion,’ she heard Nadine mew. Then she laughed, throwing her head back and wrapping her arms around herself, though her eyes stayed fixed upon her brother’s face. ‘Ariadne was right. She’ll do you fine. Miss Bennet will get one stallion more than she’s bargained for! After that, it’s on to the next one, my dear brother. There’s always another one, isn’t there?’
‘At last,’ breathed Alistair.
And Penny felt his excitement was tangible, but wondered again what had stayed this scenario up until now.
‘Once you’ve finished with her, we’ll let her go. There’s always another one waiting for your money and more than willing to accommodate your other asset. I know she’s been here less than a year, but she’s indulged more keenly than anyone else we’ve had. It is long enough!’ she finished crisply.
Nadine had said what she’d said with smiles. Her brother’s response was less enthusiastic. There was a look in his eyes that did not match that of his sister. It was as though his plans were somewhat different from hers.
‘Yes.’ He hesitated. ‘I suppose so. Though, somehow, I don’t think a few months here will be enough for Miss Bennet. She’s a natural at what she does, my dear sister; it’s like there’s something deep inside driving her on.’
‘She’ll have to accept it.’ Nadine returned.
Alistair raised his eyebrows and gazed at his sister in a calm, even forbidding way. ‘She might not.’
The Stallion Page 25