The weapons were soon abandoned as their tempers rose and they resorted to a wrestling match, each trying to humiliate the other. Sappho grabbed her opponent around the waist and hurled her to the ground, landing her on her back. With the speed of a panther she dropped to the floor and placed her heels on the woman's calves, forcing the legs open. A pelvic bone cricked and she screamed with pain. The men in the front row stared agog into the gaping sex of the spread legs. Then with a flash of her arm, Sappho fisted her in the groin.
The woman howled and doubled up, hands clutching her mound. When Sappho made to leap on her stomach she rolled out of the way and scrambled to her feet. One arm went around Sappho's neck and levered her backwards against the knee pressing in the small of her back. The sight of Sappho's magnificent body bent backwards was breathtaking. Her huge breasts thrust outwards and upwards. Her powerful thighs hardened like rock as she struggled to free herself. This she did with an elbow in the woman's ribs. The knee fell away and both women tumbled to the floor.
Olivia watched from under lowered brows as the woman gained the upper hand by getting on top of Sappho and pinning her arms behind her head. With her free hand she belaboured the sweating black breasts by punching and slapping them. Olivia was certain that under the rain of blows the mountains of wobbling flesh had swelled. The nipples certainly had, and the woman leaned forward and bit them between her grinding teeth.
Sappho, however, was not yet finished. She gathered her strength in her loins and bucked her bottom from the floor, sending the woman flying head over heels. Hot in pursuit she leapt on top of her, executed a spin in midair and landed with her bottom on the woman's face. Olivia heard a muffled grunt and lifting her head, saw the splendid buttocks of Sappho submerge her opponent deep into her cleft.
Glad of the rest, Sappho moved her hips slowly to and fro, visibly relaxing while the woman beneath her had little choice but to suck the parted slit.
Sappho took off her helmet and threw it into the audience, then wiped the sweat from her brow. She shot Olivia a knowing look and flashed her a wide smile, as if to say, 'soon you'll be doing this'.
Olivia looked at the floor, wondering if Sappho would use a phallus on her, or would she employ her fingers to split open her bottom. Her own fingers strayed to the ring in her labia and the links that hung there. Who, amongst the men in the audience, would be the first to deflower her, and would he really take her in public. If he did, Olivia's shame and degradation would be complete. From that moment on she would be public property, available to any who chose to take her for a price.
She swallowed a tear and forced herself to look at the contest that surely must be close to an end. Sappho it seemed, was lost in her mounting orgasm for her eyes had closed and her head was thrown back mouthing harsh groans and sighs. Olivia watched her teasing her own nipples, thumbing and rolling them, gasping for breath as she did so.
The legs of the woman beneath her were wide open and facing the audience. Already she was dribbling her juices from the pleasure of sucking the dark, sensuous slit of Sappho. The men stood up and stared in silence as the outer petals quivered between her fork. It was just possible to hear the sucking noises her slit made as she rose towards her orgasm.
But just as the audience, Olivia, Effie and all, thought the two women were sexually exhausted, the woman underneath gave a massive heave of her arse and tumbled Sappho to the floor. In a trice she snatched up the nearest weapon, the whip, and lashed it into Sappho's rump. The audience gasped in amazement at this sudden display of newfound strength, and went on gasping as the whip fell in rapid strokes, catching Sappho totally unawares, hitting her erect nipples and swollen breasts.
No matter which way Sappho twisted and turned the whip kept on lashing, particularly between her legs, cutting her aroused lips and clitoris, making her shriek with pain.
The woman had her back to Olivia and had lifted the visor of her helmet.
'Are you done?' Olivia heard her demand as the whip fell between Sappho's thighs.
'Take her!' Sappho moaned, a river of juice pouring from her slit.
Neither Olivia nor the men could believe that the whipped and exhausted Sappho could climax again. But climax she did, writhing over the floor in a sexual coma, while the victor strode towards Olivia and lifted her from the chair.
'Bugger her now!!' the audience cheered, knowing that as soon as the woman had taken her pleasure, the auction for Olivia's virginity would begin.
The woman turned Olivia's blushed face away from the audience and whispered an instruction in her ear. Olivia turned slowly back, then went limp. The shock had rendered her unconscious.
Chapter Sixteen
Olivia awoke to the familiar sounds of panting and gasping coming from the next room. She sat up and tried to recall the events of the previous night. She could remember that she had been punished by Charlotte, had wet herself, and then scrubbed under the pump before being taken to the theatre. There had been a sort of contest and the winner ought to have had her. There was also, she remembered, talk of an auction in which she would have been given to the highest bidder.
She reached between her legs; the ring was still in her labia and there were no signs of penetration having taken place. She was still intact. The noise coming through the flimsy partition grew louder and more energetic. Someone was being well rogered.
Olivia crept to the wall and peered through a hole in the plaster. Now she remembered. Flora had rescued her from the clutches of Sappho and losing her virginity to anyone willing to pay for it. She pressed her eye closer to the hole and saw a figure she knew well. Henry was having Flora from behind; Olivia could clearly see his shaft diving in and out of her slit. His hands were roving all over her bottom and reaching under her body for the enormous breasts that swayed pendulously to and fro.
Flora, red-faced and sweating, looked over her shoulder and asked very politely if Henry would like her on her back for a change, which seemed to indicate that he had been taking her bottom for some considerable time. He ceased his thrusting and drew out of her, allowing Flora to roll over, legs spread and toes pointing to the ceiling. He chuckled and threw himself between her legs. Flora grunted and raised her bottom from the mattress by using her powerful arms as levers.
There came another grunt, followed by a mighty shove of her hips, and Henry was engulfed to the hilt. Olivia, marvelling at the ease with which she swallowed him, watched to see what would happen next. It happened with terrifying speed; her long legs closed around his waist and locked over his back. Olivia could see the muscles of her thighs flex as her grip tightened, crushing the air from his lungs.
'Release me, you stupid bitch,' he grumbled.
Remembering how she had suffered at his hands, Olivia felt a cold chill pass through her stomach. Then she suddenly realised that the chains which had bound her hands and had gone under her legs were no longer in situ. She was free to move about as she pleased. Perhaps her time as a prisoner had been served, or was it merely that they had been taken away prior to being sold? But this was not the time to dwell on that, for Henry was riding Flora and exhausting himself in the process.
His toes were jammed into the bed-end and he was using all his strength to ride her. Between the mad pumping of his hips he paused to feast himself on her breasts, lowering his head and sucking her aroused nipples and squeezing the blazing flesh. That was one thing Olivia clearly remembered about Flora; in the height of passion her chest and breasts always turned scarlet, and her mouth was always fully open emitting stentorian grunts and groans.
'Oh my God,' she moaned. 'How you ride me. I can feel every inch of you. Oh my God, yes!'
Henry propped himself up on his elbows, his face dripping with sweat.
'I could roger you a lot more if you'd drop your legs,' he complained.
But Flora stayed where she was. 'Better this way,' she gasped. 'It makes me tighter inside.'
And she dug her heels deeper into his back and started drumming them,
a sign for him to begin again.
'I should have had you chained,' he said, lowering his torso until his chest flattened her breasts. 'In fact, I think I will.' He started to call for Rita to help him chain Flora to the bed, but a powerful squeeze of her thighs stopped him in mid-sentence. His temper rising, he delivered a resounding slap across her face and another on the side of her head. Then he propped himself up again and commenced hitting her breasts. Henry hadn't changed, it seemed.
But Flora was not as meek and compliant as Olivia, or as docile as Charlotte. Her legs crushed hard into his ribs and Olivia watched spellbound as he fought desperately for air. Flora gave no quarter, but went on crushing him until his face turned purple, and with a muted gasp he fell over her, lifeless.
Olivia scrambled back into bed; Flora may have saved her virginity, but murdering one of the household into the bargain was taking matters too far.
She heard the heavy thud of Henry's body hit the floor, and in the next second Flora was in her room, her eyes wild with excitement.
'Get dressed,' she said, still breathless, and reaching for her own clothes.
'Flora, I don't understand,' Olivia cried. 'What are you doing here? And why have you killed Henry?'
'I haven't killed him,' she snorted, pulling up her drawers. 'And I'm here to save your hide, but there'll be little chance of that the way you dawdle about. Now for fuck's sake...' and she tossed Olivia a pair of drawers and a corset.
When Olivia had hurriedly dressed, Flora led her along the passage and down the stairs into the yard.
'Are we escaping?' Olivia asked, dazed and still not quite able to take all this in.
'D'you want to stay here?' Flora replied, exasperated at her naiveté. 'If Effie had her way you'd be fucked rotten and I'd have the skin off my arse. Now up you go.'
Olivia climbed onto Flora's back and heaved herself over the top of the yard wall and found herself, after a vigorous shove in her behind, lying on the pavement of the adjoining street. Flora landed beside her, swore an oath that would have made a navvy blush, and grabbed Olivia's hand.
When, after tearing through a maze of back alleys, they reached a busy thoroughfare, Flora slackened her pace.
'Your uncle sent me,' she informed Olivia. 'And what I haven't gone through, dear God, what with having to fight that Sylph... Syph...'
'Sappho,' Olivia corrected.
'Sappho. And having to sleep with any girl who took a fancy to me, not to mention flogged and whipped.'
'I thought you liked sleeping with women,' Olivia interrupted.
'So I do, but not when I'm chained up and unable to take my own pleasure.'
'Did Effie have you?'
Flora shot her a dry look. 'What d'you think?'
'And Charlotte?'
'Don't be stupid. Anyway, I had to lay her out before I could have her lover. I may have broken her jaw. Still, you can't have it all ways.'
'Why was it necessary to choke Henry?'
'Would you rather he fucked you?'
'I was supposed to be auctioned.'
'So you were, but a bargain was struck long before that. He was quite rich, it seemed.'
'But not now?'
Flora laughed to herself and hailed a passing cab. When they were safely heading along Oxford Street, Olivia asked Flora how she had found her way to London and into her uncle's house.
'I was streetwalking and saw you go by in a handsome carriage, and it didn't take long to find out where you were. I guessed you were in that line yourself'
'I'm not a prostitute,' Olivia interjected.
'As good as. Anyway, there I was starving and penniless and having walked all the way to London.'
'Should have caught the train,' Olivia grinned.
Flora ignored that and told her how she had finally knocked on Walter's door, and how he had taken her in and sent her to rescue his niece.
'I'm very grateful to you,' Olivia replied. 'And I shall see that you are suitably rewarded.'
Flora said nothing and gazed absently out of the window all the way to Berkeley Square. It was Walter who greeted them as the cab drew up.
'I'm home!' Olivia exclaimed excitedly.
'Yes, and after causing a great deal of trouble. Get upstairs to the parlour and take off those disgusting rags.'
Olivia, surprised at this unwarranted outburst, went upstairs and took off her dress.
'All of it,' her uncle said, coming into the room.
Olivia took off her drawers and corset and stood naked before him. Walter seated himself in his favourite chair, and for a while contented himself with running his eyes over her fine body. She ignored the erection that rose in his trousers.
'Over my knee, Olivia,' he said suddenly.
'What?'
'You seem to think that being sent on an errand gives you licence to go roaming all over London and lapsing back into your old ways. Well, we'll see about that.'
'I didn't go roaming, I was abducted.'
'Are you questioning me?'
'I was just explaining that I...' Her voice trailed away under his penetrating eyes. 'No,' she said sullenly, and made her way reluctantly across the carpet.
'Over my knee!' he shouted, seeing her hesitate.
'Are you going to spank me very hard?' she asked timidly.
'Very hard,' he assured her.
Her head lowered in submission as she stepped forward and placed herself over his knees, bottom up, bare and vulnerable. As she did so, Flora and Helena came into the parlour, showing no surprise at Olivia's embarrassing predicament. Judging from the way they stripped off their clothes one might have thought that their presence was expected.
'Flora, be so good as to hold the head of my wayward niece,' Walter said, and then turned to his maid and instructed her to grip Olivia's ankles.
When the two women had obeyed his instructions, he placed his hand on Olivia's bottom and gently patted the cheeks. The other hand rested between her shoulder blades, then without any warning the hand that had been patting her lifted and fell with extraordinary force. Olivia shrieked, her face contorted with pain, and her body jerked forward, pushing her face directly into Flora's breasts.
Walter waited for the pain to subside before hitting her again, another resounding slap, which this time made her legs jolt, but the maid held her ankles firmly together. A slap from Uncle Walter was no light thing, and both women watched with undisguised delight as Olivia's bottom began to redden. The third slap was delivered with a full and wide swing of his arm at which even Flora winced. She watched as the imprint of Walter's hand slowly manifested itself across the left buttock.
'Hold her still!' Walter commanded, and raised his hand for the next blow.
'Let me put her head between my tits,' suggested Flora.
'Better if she sucked your teats,' added Helena, slyly pushing apart Olivia's ankles.
Walter shrugged. He had not intended that his assistants should also enjoy themselves, but if that was their want, he would not argue. He nodded to Flora who raised Olivia's head, and then to everyone's surprise, kissed her full on the lips.
'I'm sorry,' she apologised, after keeping them waiting. 'It's been a long time since Olivia and me have done that. Isn't that so, Livy?'
Olivia murmured her agreement and looked pleading at Flora, her saviour. All her sufferings in the House of Correction were behind her now. She had forgiven the cruel treatment Flora had dealt her.
'It has been a long time,' she repeated, in a low, husky whisper.
'You may do with my niece as you wish,' Walter said knowingly, 'but between her legs is strictly out of bounds.'
Helena looked crestfallen. 'I know that she is being kept for her lover, but surely a tonguing would do her no harm.'
Walter considered that and nodded. 'No fingers, just your tongue.'
Then he sent the flat of his hand slapping into Olivia's right buttock. A harsh grunt escaped her lips as Flora lifted her breast and forced the nipple into the open mouth. Ol
ivia sucked greedily on the teat, drawing it right in and as much of the breast as she could.
While she went on sucking, Walter went on slapping her harder and harder, turning the cheeks a blazing red. At the tenth slap tears were running from her eyes and wetting Flora's breasts.
'I think she needs a little air, sir,' Flora spoke softly, and lifted Olivia's head away from her swollen teat.
Her face was red and filled with desire. How so different from their first meeting in the courtyard and her reluctant coupling in the dormitory. Now she could suck away for as long as Flora desired it. Her head was eased back into position and she attacked the other nipple, eagerly rolling her teeth over the teat and flicking her tongue around the pimpled disc.
Hers was not the only tongue eagerly pursuing its devotions. Helena had slid Olivia's ankles wide and had angled her head into the open fork. The metal ring did not prevent her from finding Olivia's clitoris and teasing it to distraction.
Walter would have gone on slapping Olivia, indeed he could have punished that pert bottom until he was exhausted, but now his hand rested lazily on her back as he listened to the sound of mounting orgasms.
Always a keen observer of young women in the throes of passion, he looked and listened with intense fascination as each of the women became more intent on satisfying themselves. The sounds coming from Olivia's throat were no longer those of agony, but of undisguised pleasure. The harsh grunts were soft purrs, the misty look in her eyes not of anguish but of lustful longing. The effect on Flora was equally plain.
'My love, my love,' she moaned, from trembling lips. 'If only you were between my thighs...'
Waiter felt his own erection prodding into Olivia's stomach, and one glance at Flora's face told him where it ought to be. But how to get out from under Olivia without breaking the spell? It didn't help his state of mind when he saw Flora put her hand between her legs and begin to rub to and fro. In those circumstances, time was not on his side. If Flora came before he could enter her, or worse, he shot his own bolt, he would lose all credibility.
The Instruction of Olivia Page 22