Unsure of what he was asking, she nodded, "Yes, Master, but the dishes are all gone. I will have some later."
"Nonsense, pet, up with you," he said as he lifted her off her feet and set her on the table. She looked at him, confused. One doesn't eat dessert on the table! He stood in front of her and gently kissed her as he leaned his body weight on her, forcing her backwards on the table. She was flat with her head in about the center. Master Ross walked to the opposite end and pulled her toward him until her feet were on the table. Master Tom removed one stocking and shoe, while Mistress Liz removed the other. Luna was bewildered, but, since her master had ordered it, she remained where she was.
She felt a rope encircle her ankle and she smiled. She felt a tug at the end as the security was tested. Her master merely grinned as he tied each remaining extremity to the table's legs tightly, causing her back to arch slightly in the process. Luna's own tugging of the ropes made her feel aroused as she realized her immobility. She felt a flush of warmth in her pussy and was sure that others could see her glistening there. She breathed deeply and repeated her mantra, "Empty your mind and soul so that your Master may fill it."
It was at this point that she felt her left leg grow warm. As she felt the warmth spreading from her thigh down to her toes, it tickled as it wrapped around her calves and pooled on the table. Something's dripping, she thought, the chocolate! She looked down to see Master Ross passing the fondue pot and ladle across to Master Tom. He drizzled the dark sauce on Luna's pale skin slowly and deliberately from her toes to thigh before passing it on to Mistress Liz. It felt to Luna as if someone was slowly pulling a blanket over her body. The contrast between the warmth on her legs and the coolness of her upper body made Luna's nipples pucker up quickly. Mistress Liz poured some of the thick, hot sauce directly on Luna's right nipple, causing her to gasp in surprise and delight. She worked her way out in a spiral, stopping halfway across her belly and chest. Then, after passing the chocolate to Colleen, she extended just one fingernail and traced delicate lines in the sauce from Luna's nipple outward, creating a spider web effect. Luna moaned as the nail scraped across her skin. Her nerve endings were all on edge and the slightest touch had such a magnified effect.
Colleen winked at Luna as she slowly snaked the hot sauce from her fingertips up to her shoulder in a zigzag pattern. She drizzled some of the sauce in her armpit as well, causing Luna to giggle from the sensation. Colleen dipped her finger in the sauce and allowed Luna a small taste of the rich chocolate before passing the pot on to rick. It was warm and sweet on Colleen's finger, and Luna made sure she cleaned Colleen's fingers thoroughly. Rick slowly and meticulously traced small waves from Luna's wrist to her shoulder. Luna moved her hips against the table, trying to find her release. She tugged again at her bonds, and as she did she felt her master's firm hand upon her mons, signaling to be still. She looked at him and he winked as if to say this was her reward for a job well done. Her master teased her clit and caressed her labia in a most lazy and maddening manner. He obviously wanted her to last for a while. Luna smiled and lay her head back on the table and closed her eyes as Colleen gently caressed her hair.
Sara was the final artist for the night. She pinched Luna's nipple hard and then drizzled the chocolate sauce in the same concentric circles as Mistress Liz had earlier.
"Mistress Liz, I haven't any fingernails, Ma'am. Could you please make the spider web here as well? It would be lovely symmetry, Ma'am."
Mistress Liz smiled as she pondered the chocolate. She looked up at Sara and said, "Why, yes, my dear, but I have a better idea," and with that she moved next to Sara and drawing from her bag long forgotten on the sideboard was a small dagger. As she drew it from the scabbard, Sara's eyes grew large. It was intricately carved and bejeweled, of apparent Mid-east manufacture. The blade glinted against the light and flashed across Sara's wondrous gaze.
"Here my dear, you should really try this," Mistress Liz cajoled. She took Sara's hand in her own, and moving with her to Luna's nipple, gently laid the blade at the center. Luna moaned gutturally. Her master kept a firm hand on her mons to signal to remain absolutely still. Everyone watched as the mistress and the submissive together traced the lines to make the spider's web. The only sound that could be heard was Luna's shallow, rapid breathing.
"There now," Liz pronounced as she re-sheathed the blade,"you did a fine job, Sara". Sara looked at her wide-eyed and smiled.
"Thank you, Ma'am, for helping me," she said humbly. Liz smiled as she returned to her place at the table.
Luna lay there, cocooned in chocolate. The contrast between her pale skin and the dark sauce was striking. They all took in the moment, admiring each of the differing patterns on each area of her body. Luna was warm and sticky, and the dripping sauce tickled as it succumbed to gravity's influence. She lifted her head to look at her Master, and he smiled broadly at her. Reaching a hand to her mound, he began to caress her and flicked a finger across her clit.
"Dig in everyone," he said as he kept his eyes locked with Luna's. His look was intense, his eyes showing his burning passion for his submissive. Luna smiled and closed her eyes and laid her head back on the table with a small thud. Momentarily, she felt 6 tongues licking away at the sauce on her body. Hot, wet tongues, lapping away at the sticky warmth on her body. Mistress Liz and Sara spent a lot of time on Luna's nipples, and they had no chocolate on them when they lifted their heads. Luna groaned in pleasure at the sensations from their mouths. Master Tom and Master Ross licked the chocolate off her legs slowly. Master Tom added a few nibbles to Luna's thighs as he slurped his way up her leg. Master Mark's fingers worked themselves slowly in and out of her wet pussy. He had dripped no sauce there, but Luna's juices made things wet enough. Rick licked the chocolate off Luna's waist and she giggled slightly as it tickled once or twice. Colleen had Luna's hair above her head to keep it from getting messy. She had Luna's hair in her fist and tipped her head from one side to the other as she kissed and licked the chocolate off of her chest and shoulders. Once, Colleen looked at Luna with chocolate-covered lips and kissed her softly on the lips. Luna reveled in the sticky-sweet kiss from her dear friend.
The licking continued for some time, whipping Luna into a frenzy of lust. Her master's fingers steadily churned away at her pussy while his thumb massaged her clit firmly. One by one the licking stopped as the sauce disappeared. Sara was the last to stop, seeming to have come fixated on Luna's nipple and its ring. All eyes went to the master and submissive now as their ballet continued. Luna writhed and moaned and moved her hips as she could on the table. Master Mark moved his hand faster and faster, keeping pace with Luna's hips. He kept his eyes on her and teased her until he knew she was at the edge. He maintained his pace as he spoke.
"Luna..."
"Yes, Master," she moaned, only half in her body. The rest of her was waiting to take flight.
"Come for me, pet. Come for us. Now."
"Yes, Master, thank you," and with this she soared into a gut-wrenching orgasm as her Master held her there, continuing to move his hand in and out of her pussy and torment her clit. Luna cried out as she came each time, thanking her master for each orgasm. She writhed and thrashed on the table and pulled hard at her bonds as her pussy quivered and twitched uncontrollably. She was a greedy, feral thing, wanting one orgasm after another. She fed on them, and screamed her passion as her Master played her like a violin. The other six were transfixed, watching hypnotized as this woman showed them the depths of her passion, the desire for her Master, the spirit of her submission.
Master Mark slowly lowered his tempo and Luna's orgasms subsided. She continued to twitch and spasm as she calmed down. As her breath became less ragged and more regular, she opened her eyes slowly. Each guest smiled at her and slowly kissed her cheek, or lips, or forehead and thanked her for her service this evening. Luna lay there, bound, sweaty, sticky, and exhausted and thanked each for coming.
Colleen was the last to say her goodbyes. She gently caress
ed Luna's cheek and smiled. "My dear, you did an outstanding job tonight. Your Master is lucky to have you as his submissive."
"Colleen, thank you, but it is not so hard when you have such a role model as you to emulate," she replied. Colleen softly kissed her cheek and bid her adieu.
When Master Mark returned from seeing the guests out, he went to the kitchen and soon returned with warm water, a towel, and a cloth to clean Luna's body of the chocolate remnants.
"My dear, you served us well, this evening. I am most proud of you," he said as he rubbed sauce off her haunches.
Luna's heart swelled with these compliments. It has been her most fervent desire to please her Master so.
"Thank you, Milord, it is kind of you to say. I could not have done it without your training and the gentle guidance of Colleen."
Master Mark toweled her dry, and untied the bonds to Luna's limbs. As she sat up slowly, he took her in his arms and carried her upstairs where she continued to serve him through the night.
The Madam
Chapter 1
It was October in Paris 1889. I will always remember the day I fell in love with Madame de Roch. It happened at a soiree where wine was flowing, the men were witty and charming, the women intelligent, cultured and beautiful; the air perfumed with exotic flowers. I was in my late twenties and had come up from the south of France, from our ancestral home town of Graz, to see my brother, Jabir, who lived in Paris at that time where he held an important post in the French Diplomatic Corps. Jabir easily persuaded me to go with him to the salon. I was, after all, young and full of a young man’s rampant sexual desire. When we arrived, we stood at the head of the room and surveyed the scene. It was crowded with elegant, finely dressed people.
“Who’s that charming creature?” I asked, staring at a dark haired beauty opposite us. She was chatting animatedly, smiling easily and seeming to dominate the group she was with.
“Ah, that’s Madame de Roch,” Jabir whispered. He smiled knowingly and continued. “It’s said, she’s bedded every powerful man in Paris.”
“She’s a courtesan then?” I suggested.
Jabir made a smirk and replied, “Yes, the polite person’s word for a whore.”
We stood and watched a vision of perfection seduce the room, a raven-haired ingénue dressed in rustling blue-black crinoline, her porcelain skin quite breathtaking. The elegance and assurance of her demeanour told me she was of high importance. We watched her go and sit down in a corner of the enormous room followed by an entourage.
“I can see why she’s so popular,” I mentioned, “she’s exquisite, quite magical, in fact.”
Jabir looked at me and frowned. “Brother, have a care, he said. “That woman is dangerous. She’s a notorious femme fatale... I’ve heard she’s caused several decent men to commit suicide over her.”
“I could see how one could lose one’s head over such a woman,” I told Jabir. I felt the magnetic pull of her dark beauty even more now. Something dark and deviant was drawing me in. I couldn’t resist its pull. I didn’t want to.
“Look at that old man, the one to her right, with the big white moustaches... Can you see him?” Jabir said.
“Yes. What about him?” I asked.
“Well,” Jabir continued, “that’s her current husband. His Excellency Baron Radford, third Baronet de Roch. He’s the governor of the Bank of France and just turned seventy. Can you guess how old his wife is?”
I stared at Madame de Roch for a moment and said, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe thirty?”
Jabir laughed: “Wrong, brother,” he said. “She’s over forty... Some superstitious fools believe that she’s in league with the devil, in a kind of Faustian pact, to keep her youthful beauty intact.”
“Incredible,” I gasped, "she looks so young!"
I could hardly believe this vision of loveliness was middle-aged. It didn’t seem humanly possible.
Jabir nodded and murmured his agreement.
“So, considering the Baron’s age and his portly demeanour," I said, "I should think not much goes on in their boudoir now, eh?”
Jabir snorted. “I wouldn’t think so. The Baron probably crouches down and brushes his wife’s cunt with his huge moustache!” he said, crudely.
“Does Madame have a large appetite for sex?” I enquired.
Jabir looked at me and said, “Yes. It’s said, she’s insatiable and very deviant.”
Just then, a piano recital started. It was by a modern composer, unknown to me, M. Claude Debussy. I must say it was very pretty music...calm, wistful, languid, full of tinkling arabesques that floated through the air quite magically. The audience was enraptured into total silence. I sat right behind the object of my desire, scanning her pale bare shoulders, her swan-like neck; noticing delicate onyx and silver earrings hanging down. I marvelled at the perfection of her doll-like profile, taking in all the detail obsessively, as if I were an obsessed collector of rare images. Every time Madame fanned herself, I got a whiff of her delicate perfume and the ebb and flow of M. Debussy’s music was the perfect counterpoint to my heart's rising and falling, every time I glanced at her. My God, I’d already become infatuated with her.
After the recital, Jabir left and went home, warning me before he went, “Brother, remember what I said about her, won’t you?”
I lied and said I would be careful.
A little while later I found myself on the terrace. It was a hot evening and I was smoking a cigar and looking out over the verdant green of the garden in the twilight, enthralled by the hazy outlines of many flowering bushes and exotic trees, hidden in the shadows. A soft female voice suddenly broke my meditation. “Excuse me, monsieur,” she said, “I don’t think I had the pleasure.”
I turned and saw it was Madame de Roch, slowly waving a black Spanish fan in front of her bosom. She was smiling at me and I almost fainted with desire.
“Madame, at your service,” I said, bowing first and then coming to attention.
She extended her porcelain-white hand. I took it and kissed the back of it, very lightly. “I’m Madame de Roch,” she said, her tone unbelievably arousing as she lingered on the last word.
“Charmed, Madame, I’m George Râteau,” I said, handing her my card.
“Ah! You’re an importer of silk, Monsieur Râteau...” she said, coming closer, her creamy bosom inches from my aching fingers. I longed to grab and squeeze her breasts, while kissing that perfect mouth.
“...How delightful, I just love silks and satins.”
“The dress you’re wearing, Madame; it’s a Bettany is it not?” I asked, knowing the expensive design.
“Mmm...” she replied. “It is. You have a good eye, Monsieur.”
“The colour is Peacock, no?” I suggested.
“Yes,” she replied. “It’s this season’s colour, apparently.”
“It most certainly is, Madame,” I said. “The colour brings your paleness to perfection.”
She then surprised me by saying, “My breasts are enhanced by its exquisite bodice, don’t you think?”
“Indeed they are, Madame,” I replied, boldly, struggling to keep my composure. My penis was now standing up as hard as a lamppost.
Madame smiled knowingly at me, her moist white teeth and parted pink lips, coquettish, so inviting. The unusual mention of her bosom only excited me all the more.
“Monsieur Râteau,” she asked, “might I have a puff of your cigar do you think?”
I reddened at the obvious innuendo. “Yes, Madame, of course you may,” I said, handing her the large Havana.
While I watched, she brought the cigar to her generous pink lips and sucked its stem, taking in the smoke and then tilting her head back and blowing out a blue haze. “Mm, such a very fine flavour,” she said. Then she handed the cigar back to me, smiling at my obvious discomfort.
“My friends call me Lana,” she said. “You may call me Lana, too, Monsieur Râteau.”
“Am I your friend then?” I asked, boldly.
Madame stared at me, her brown eyes flashing like a gypsy’s. “All attractive men are my friends,” she said.
“I do hope we can become better acquainted.”
“I hope for that too, Lana,” I told her, “But you’re a married woman, are you not?”
“Does that concern you?” she asked; then, before I could reply, she went on: “My dear husband is consensual of my, er...liaisons.”
“Is he?" I said. "He’s a most enlightened man to be able to share such a rare jewel.”
“You’re not one of those naive males who imagines that an attractive woman cannot be sexual and still be a dignified human being, are you Monsieur?” she asked.
“No, no, no Madame,” I replied. “In fact, I’m quite enlightened as far as the sexuality of women is concerned.” This part wasn’t true. I was trying to impress her.
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