Slave of Darkness

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Slave of Darkness Page 8

by Francesca Lewis


  ‘Have I kept you waiting too long?’ she asked teasingly and then, apparently taking pity on the girl, she opened her with one hand and slowly inserted two fingers into the moist pinkness. Tabitha groaned with ecstasy.

  Judith looked at John. ‘Move nearer. Kneel between her feet.’

  He obeyed, but reluctantly, clearly aware of what was going to happen.

  ‘Now watch her spend,’ said Judith, and she strummed Tabitha’s clitoris until, with a shrill scream, the girl’s pleasure finally spilled forth and, as the orgasm swept over her, her head rolled from side to side and her unintelligible cries proved her ecstasy.

  Standing to one side, Marianne was witness both to Tabitha’s moment of delight and John’s downfall. As he watched the girl in the throes of delirious pleasure, his hips jerked a few times and he was spilling his seed on the drawing room floor, the sticky fluid discharging in uncontrollable spasms. Marianne heard him groaning in horror at what he’d done.

  The moment Tabitha’s pleasure had died away she scrambled off her mistress’ lap, seemingly aware that Judith would not want her there any longer than was necessary. Her normally pale face was flushed and her breasts were still swollen. For a moment her eyes met Marianne’s, and then she hastily looked down, but not before Marianne had seen an extraordinary mixture of excitement and shame in them, the same sensations as she herself was experiencing.

  Judith stood up abruptly. ‘How dare you?’ she hissed at John. ‘You’re no better than an animal. Not only did you lie to my brother, but your animalistic behaviour is beyond belief. Such wickedness must be punished. Stand up immediately.’

  John stumbled to his feet. His erection had vanished, his manhood hanging limply between his thighs again, and he looked terrified. ‘Since you spent when I did not wish you to, I think it only appropriate that you should spend when I do wish you to,’ said Judith.

  John frowned. He glanced at Marianne, but she looked away, unable to offer any reassurance. She didn’t fully understand what Judith meant, but she could hear the latent cruelty behind the words and guessed that, in some way, John was going to be made to suffer.

  ‘You’re young and strong,’ Judith went on. ‘How strong do you think you are, John?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘You seem very modest all of a sudden. Answer my question.’

  ‘I don’t understand it, ma’am,’ he mumbled.

  ‘It’s perfectly simple. How quickly do you think you would be able to satisfy a woman again?’

  ‘Do you mean now, ma’am?’

  ‘Well I don’t mean next week,’ she said tartly.

  ‘I couldn’t say, ma’am,’ he muttered, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. ‘It’s awkward, like, in front of you ladies...’

  ‘Come now, you didn’t find it difficult a few minutes ago. In fact, it was clearly impossible for you to restrain yourself. There’s no one new here, so what possible excuse can you have for not being able to perform again?’

  ‘It – it takes a man time.’

  Marianne hated the way he was being humiliated so cruelly.

  ‘How long?’ Judith persisted.

  Again he shrugged.

  Walking over to him, Judith slapped him hard round the face, leaving the scarlet imprint of her palm on his cheek. ‘Don’t you take that attitude with me! Remember your place. Remember, too, what will happen to you if any of this reaches my brother’s ears. Believe me, by the time I’d finished telling him what just happened in this room you’d be lucky to escape with your life!’

  ‘I didn’t do nothing,’ he protested. ‘Any man would have done the same.’

  ‘That’s a contradiction,’ said Judith, with a warped smile. ‘If you did nothing, how could any man have done the same?’

  John shook his head, totally out of his depth. ‘I reckon in a couple of hours I could do something,’ he said at last.

  ‘Two hours?’ Judith mocked, shaking her head. ‘I expected better than that from you, John. Tell me, Tabitha, do you have to wait two hours between your bouts of passion together?’

  Tabitha, too, seemed to be having difficulty in following the conversation. ‘John and me haven’t done anything,’ she protested.

  ‘Oh, really,’ said Judith, in exasperation. ‘Very well, I’ll tell you how long you’ve got, John. You have ten minutes in which to recover.’

  ‘What happens then?’ asked Marianne. Judith looked sharply at her companion. ‘I don’t remember asking you to speak.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Marianne apologised swiftly.

  ‘Have you already forgotten what we planned?’ Judith asked her.

  Marianne didn’t know what to say. How could she explain that she hadn’t really been there when the plan was hatched, that she wasn’t Marianne Clifford at all, but Marianne Kay?

  ‘It seems I have to organise everything,’ Judith muttered testily. ‘John, sit there.’ She pointed to a high-backed chair. Clearly very embarrassed and uncomfortable, John obeyed.

  ‘You move only when given permission,’ she ordered. ‘Now, Marianne, start arousing him. It’s my wish that he ejaculates again within ten minutes. You must do your best to help him.’

  This was something totally unexpected and Marianne didn’t quite know what to do. Hesitating briefly, she then stood in front of John and, after a moment’s thought, sat across his thighs just as Tabitha had sat across Judith’s.

  ‘Lift your dress,’ Judith commanded her. ‘I trust you’re naked beneath it?’ Marianne nodded. ‘Excellent. That should help him.’

  Feeling extremely nervous, Marianne lifted the hem of her woollen dress and hitched it up, horribly aware that in doing so she was revealing herself to them. Then she sat down on the young man and felt his thighs tremble briefly as her naked buttocks touched them.

  ‘Take hold of his shaft,’ Judith instructed. ‘Get some life back into the miserable specimen.’

  Marianne didn’t dare disobey. She took him in her fingers, but his flesh seemed to shrink at her touch.

  ‘Seduce him,’ Judith urged fervently. ‘If you don’t help him he’s lost.’

  ‘Please help him, miss,’ cried Tabitha, then she squealed as her mistress spitefully slapped her naked breasts.

  ‘Be silent, you wretched girl, or you’ll go to your room,’ Judith snapped.

  Marianne writhed as sensuously as she could on John’s lap. His muscled thighs felt delicious against her flesh and she rocked back and forth, stimulating herself with increasing abandon. For a few moments she forgot about John and concentrated solely on her own pleasure.

  ‘Marianne, control yourself,’ Judith cut in. ‘It’s John whose pleasure I want to see spill, not yours. How dare you behave like this? It seems you’ve not yet learned to be a lady despite my brother’s best efforts. Regretfully, I shall have to report you once more when he returns.’

  Marianne didn’t say anything. Instead, she lightly stroked John’s testicles, and was relieved to feel them stirring. But still his cock refused to grow hard and, after a few minutes, Judith pulled Marianne off him.

  ‘I shall have to do this myself,’ she muttered brusquely. ‘Stand up, John, part your legs, then bend over and touch your toes.’

  ‘Please, mistress, not that,’ the poor gardener gasped.

  ‘But it always works, doesn’t it?’ Judith sneered.

  ‘It always hurts,’ he mumbled, sounding so desolate that Marianne’s heart went out to him.

  ‘Nonsense. Your pleasure comes every time. Tabitha, fetch the lard from the kitchen.’ Tabitha scurried from the room, returning within seconds with a tub of lard. Judith inserted a finger into it, swirling it around until it was covered in grease, and then, while Marianne looked on aghast, she stabbed the greased digit abruptly into John’s exposed rectum. It sank in until her palm cupped his buttock.

  ‘There’s
a sensitive spot in here,’ she explained to Marianne with bizarre detachment. ‘Dr Francis Proctor, my brother’s closest friend, taught me how to find it. It causes great excitement in members of the opposite sex. Isn’t that true, John?’

  John, his head bent down and his fingertips brushing his toes, could only gasp and groan as Judith continued to relentlessly massage his prostate gland. Eventually she withdrew her finger and wiped it with disdain on a piece of cloth that Tabitha had also brought with her. ‘Stand up and turn around. Let’s see if that’s worked,’ she ordered.

  John straightened up and Marianne was astonished to see that he was rock hard, his erection as tight and angry-looking as it was when he’d been watching Tabitha.

  Judith nodded with approval. ‘It never fails,’ she said to Marianne. ‘Very good, John. Now let me see your pleasure spill once more.’

  John shook his head. ‘I’ll do anything, ma’am, anything at all if you don’t make me do this,’ he cried.

  ‘You silly boy, most men would be grateful,’ Judith mocked. ‘Tabitha, use your hand on him.’

  ‘No, Tabby,’ he said. ‘Don’t let her make you do it.’ But Tabitha’s fear of her mistress was greater than her regard for her lover and, falling to her knees, she gripped his penis hard and moved her hand briskly up and down, occasionally pausing to squeeze the engorged tip.

  Marianne watched as John’s body went rigid. She guessed how he must be feeling, knowing he was about to experience another spasm of ecstasy that would be followed by desolate humiliation. Glancing at Judith, she saw the woman was lost in contemplation of the scene, her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed.

  ‘He’s coming...’ the sadistic woman stated with evident satisfaction, while Tabitha’s dainty hand continued to work her lover’s shaft.

  ‘Stop Tabby, stop,’ groaned John, but even as he pleaded she used her free hand to tease his swaying testicles, and this extra stimulation proved to be the final straw, drawing the climax from him as his fists clenched and his eyes closed. With a strangled cry of anguish his hips jerked, and Marianne watched as the lad’s pleasure spilled forth again.

  Judith clapped contemptuously, and Marianne wondered what would happen next. Despite feeling sympathy for the humiliated young couple, she was aching for satisfaction, for some kind of release.

  ‘Marianne, you may go now,’ said Judith. ‘Take John with you. Show the feeble specimen out through the kitchen door and lock it firmly behind him. He can sleep in the outhouse tonight. As for you, Tabitha, you can stay here and look after my needs. I’m sure you know what’s expected of you.’

  Tabitha nodded sadly.

  Marianne hesitated. ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Judith, and then she smiled knowingly. ‘Ah, poor Marianne. I suppose you’d like someone to satisfy your simmering desires? Naturally, you’ll understand that’s impossible. You’re a young unmarried woman in my care. I couldn’t possibly allow such a thing to happen. Indeed, it’s most unseemly that this whole affair has excited you. As I said before, I shall mention the fact to my brother.’

  ‘I understand, ma’am,’ said Marianne softly, wondering how it was that she knew the right thing to say, because Judith gave a nod of approval.

  Even as she left the room, Marianne knew what she was going to do. The moment she got into her room she was going to peel off her woollen dress and satisfy herself. Her body simply couldn’t wait, the urge was overwhelming, and once she’d ushered John out and locked up she hurried up the stairs with only the candle to show her the way, frantic to get to her bedroom. Opening the door, she was startled when the darkness was suddenly illuminated by a bright electric light-bulb.

  Chapter 6

  Marianne was determined that this time Steve’s welcome home would be a better one, and she made a special trip into the nearest town on the morning he was due back. There, in a small back street, she was delighted to discover a sex shop tucked away between a pub and a newsagents. It took her a few minutes to pluck up the courage to go inside, but once there she was delighted she’d made the effort. It was full of exciting things she would have loved to try out. Even better, she thought to herself, would have been the opportunity to take them back with her into the past, to hand them to Sir Edward and see what he made of them. But she knew this would be impossible; she never even arrived back in the nineteenth century in her own clothes. Clearly, transporting any physical object apart from herself, anything which did not apply to Marianne Clifford, was out of the question. When she’d finally made her purchases she drove home to Moorhead House, feeling very excited. She hoped Steve would enter into the spirit of things.

  He was later home than expected and full of apologies. ‘The traffic was appalling,’ he explained as he pulled her close and kissed her. ‘I was in such a rush to get here it was really frustrating. God, I’ve missed you.’

  ‘I’ve been on tenterhooks waiting,’ said Marianne truthfully. ‘Do you want to eat first?’

  ‘First?’ Steve looked a little surprised.

  Marianne giggled. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve been waiting for you for so long, and...’

  Understanding dawned in Steve’s eyes. ‘Hey, you’re more important to me than food, you know that. Let’s go upstairs.’

  Once inside the bedroom, Marianne wondered how best to explain what she wanted. ‘Steve...’ she said hesitantly. ‘I wondered if you’d mind doing something different?’

  ‘Writing this new book’s certainly spicing up our sex life,’ he smirked. ‘What do you want to do this time?’

  ‘Play out a fantasy of mine.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had any fantasies.’

  ‘Then you didn’t know everything about me, did you?’ she said teasingly.

  ‘Apparently not.’ He looked a little uncomfortable.

  ‘It’s nothing too way out,’ she said hastily.

  ‘If it turns you on, then it’s fine by me,’ he said, but his tone lacked conviction.

  ‘I went shopping this morning. I’ve bought some special clothes.’

  ‘Great, I’ve always wanted you to wear sexy nighties.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not those kind of clothes, Steve. Look...’ She held up a set of leather cuffs.

  Steve stared at them in total incomprehension. ‘What on earth are those?’

  ‘I want you to put them on me. I want to be helpless and at your mercy.’

  Steve frowned anxiously. ‘So, what do I do?’

  Marianne sighed. The way things were going, all the eroticism would be lost before they’d even started. ‘The larger leather loops go round the tops of my thighs,’ she explained patiently. ‘Then these smaller cuffs go round my wrists and they’re attached with buckles to my thighs. That way I’m helpless. They make me your prisoner.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m going to be any good at this,’ muttered Steve.

  Marianne’s heart sank. She could have screamed with frustration.

  ‘What do I do with you then?’ continued Steve.

  ‘There’s this as well,’ she said, producing a leather cat o’nine tails. ‘You can use it on me any way you like once I’m fastened with the cuffs.’

  ‘You mean, hit you?’ he asked incredulously.

  ‘It’s only a bit of fun,’ she insisted desperately.

  ‘I had no idea you were like this.’ He sounded totally stunned. ‘I can’t hit you, Marianne. I want to give you pleasure, not pain.’

  ‘But they can be the same thing,’ she cried.

  He snorted derisively. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’

  ‘Steve, please, for my sake just give it a go,’ Marianne begged, frantic to play out the game she’d been picturing all day. ‘If you don’t like it we won’t ever do it again, but you might find you do.’

  ‘Why can’t we just make love as normal?’ he asked.

  ‘Because it gets bori
ng,’ she cried. ‘I know what you’re going to do and you know what I’m going to do. This will spice things up for us.’

  ‘Charming,’ he sulked. ‘But...’ he went on carefully, ‘if it’s really what you want...’

  ‘I do, Steve. I really do.’

  He removed his jeans and underpants, and Marianne’s pulse quickened as she saw he was already becoming hard. Crossing the room, he gripped her round the waist, picked her up and set her on the bed. ‘Don’t move,’ he said, but although he was trying to be authoritative his voice lacked the genuine harshness of Sir Edward’s. Nevertheless, it was better than Marianne had expected, and she felt a thrill run through her.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked tremulously.

  At last he finally seemed to understand the game. ‘You’re to wear these,’ he said, and she felt his hands parting her thighs, clipping on the strips of leather. Then, quite roughly, he pulled her wrists down, secured the cuffs around them and fastened the buckle to the thigh straps. Only once they were on did Marianne realise how totally helpless they rendered her. It was difficult to move her upper torso at all, because even the smallest movement meant she had to raise her thighs, which automatically parted her legs and revealed her sex. It felt delicious and she started to shiver with anticipation.

  The room was dark and she could only just make out Steve’s shadowy shape. He picked up the cat o’nine tails. She was beginning to feel almost as excited as she felt when in the presence of Sir Edward. Once more she was at a man’s mercy, and although it was the wrong man, it was still the kind of arousal she now craved.

  Suddenly, with no warning, Steve flicked the whip across her breasts. It didn’t really hurt, but she gave a cry of surprise and felt her nipples harden in instant response. ‘No, please,’ she begged, desperately hoping he’d ignore her. Luckily he did.

  Steve climbed on to the bed beside her and ran a hand over her breasts. ‘God, you’re excited already,’ he said as his palm touched the hard peaks of her nipples. ‘This really does turn you on, doesn’t it?’

 

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