by Aran Ashe
Kapler wanted to whip Leah directly; Lauren wanted her masturbated first. In the end they did both together. They decided that Ean should hold her sex while Kapler whipped her bottom with a switch. The stretching had made her thighs so tight about her swelling sex that Ean had to force his fingers round it, to get a proper grip. Then Kapler started whipping.
At that very moment, just beyond the door to the secret bedroom, the servant girl, Maria, returning for the tray, was about to lift the latch when she heard those sounds – the grunts of male exertion, the sharp, snapping thrashes and the gasping female moans. They were sounds that Maria immediately understood, though she had witnessed such an event only once – a traveller, fully dressed for riding, wielding a crop upon a pretty girl who lay naked and face down on his bed. That vision remained with Maria, feeding dreams from which she would wake wet with desire. The other girls would often speak of such practices, describing what they had seen in the rooms and in the stables; sometimes they would enact them in play. Maria would watch; she had the desire but never the courage to join in. And afterwards her dreams would be fraught with whipping pleasures. Tonight in this room, already she had witnessed a young man kissing a girl between the legs; her belly tumbled as she wondered what it might be like to experience that special sensation. Quietly, shakily, she opened the door.
The scene confronting her burned into her soul. The girl was strung up naked and the two men were touching and punishing her – whipping her bottom and touching her at the front. They too were naked, their male parts standing stiff as wood. The beautiful lady was watching and directing. The girl was covered in raised red and purple marks, as if a paintbrush had splashed her. Her skin looked deathly pale, as if all the blood was drawn into these stains. Her upper lip and her nipples were swollen bright red.
Maria was terrified and fascinated, wanting to withdraw behind the door and peep. But the lady had spotted her, so she must go in. Quietly, with eyes averted, she crossed the room. Hurriedly and fumblingly she tried to collect her tray. The lady said something and Maria looked up, her pulse pounding in her ears, her cheeks burning at the sight of the naked stiff parts of the men. Before she could escape, the lady grasped her by the wrist. 'Don't go. Would you like to watch?' she whispered, drawing her nearer to the painted girl. The men moved aside and the older one leant against a pillar, the birch switch in his hand, not hiding himself, smirking, causing her to look away. The younger man seemed almost self-conscious, yet he was the one whom she had earlier witnessed kissing the girl between the legs. And now he had only been touching the girl in that same place, exciting her during the whipping. In truth that thought excited Maria too.
The girl's eyes were half closed and she was whimpering, but very softly, almost as if in trance. There was black thread tied between her bright bulging nipples and there was more round the tops of her thighs. The lady explained: 'It's horsehair, there to make her itch.' Then she whispered: 'And we have rubbed it between her legs and I have pushed it up her bottom so now she is swelling everywhere, with her thighs drawn tight to keep all the delicious pleasure sealed inside.' Then she took Maria's frightened fingers and directed them between those thighs to the girl's tortured red swelling. 'Have you ever caressed a cunt so swollen?' It was heart-stoppingly exciting for Maria. Though the lady cajoled her wrist, her fingers sought the heat, trembled against the female slipperiness and in shocked excitement felt metal links buried in the flesh. Still she continued to touch, explore and squeeze. The girl's shudder made her fingers withdraw.
'Don't stop,' the lady murmured. 'Hold it properly. Get a finger up inside if you can.' Then she turned. 'Here, Kapler, hand me the switch. Now, girl, you use it on her. Reach round.' There was something in the pale girl's compliance that spurred Maria to obey; in her heart she wanted to do it; the very prospect triggered a giddy sweet pleasure. 'Here – across these cheeks. Good. Hard. Harder! And get that finger in deep.' Maria's fingertip, far inside the girl now, was pressed against something hard there, like the stone inside a soft fruit. It started stabbing her fingertip and the pale girl began to groan, breasts shaking, belly drum-tight. 'Oh, sweet fuck,' the lady whispered in Maria's ear. 'She's coming. Oh, beautiful, dirty, precious creature . . .' The whipping stopped; the switch dropped to the floor. The stabbing of the stone inside the girl softened to a beating pulse. And the lady's lips, moving ever closer, moistly closed about Maria's burning ear lobe. Maria, dizzy with the pleasure of forcing female pleasure through sexual penetration and pain, gazed in awed arousal and mortified dismay at the girl's glaze that now coated her fingers so thickly.
'Ean, take charge of Leah for us, would you?' the lady asked. She led Maria across the room, standing her beside a chair on which the lady now seated herself. Maria's gaze was drawn back to the girl and to the young man named Ean, still naked, still hard. The girls were right about this part of a man: it looked as if a curved bone had been pushed up it from inside his bottom. The head was glistening as if leaking.
'See – he's masturbating her, like you did, but not so well,' the lady whispered. Maria watched in deep arousal, and she watched the young man's stiffness bobbing. Then the lady took her hand and stroked her palm with very gentle fingertip swirls. She felt her nipples tightening; the sensation of falling kept coming in her belly. Then the man called Kapler started whipping the suspended naked girl on the cheeks of her bottom. Maria felt the lady's other hand slowly sliding under the hem of her skirt. She shivered as the fingers ventured up the back of her leg, then round the side, searching for the draw-string of her knickers. Her knickers dropped to the floor. 'Open your thighs,' the lady whispered almost imperceptibly. Maria complied and felt beautiful shivers as the lady's fingers and thumb gently reached up and lightly grasped between them. She heard the lady sigh and settle to touching, softly fingering, besieging this nudity, trying to coax it open.
Maria's shaking gaze was fixed upon the shuddering girl being whipped, and the naked young man's hand prising under and around her swollen female part, gathering it up, lifting and squeezing. Maria felt her own pleasure building as the girl's taut body hung so lewdly in his hand. 'She's coming – again. Sweet fuck . . .,' the lady murmured and Maria, trembling on the verge, stepped completely out of her knickers as the hand between her thighs, finding unfettered access, began clutching in sexual rhythm with the punished girl's tortured breathing. When the girl looked pleadingly across the room, directly at Maria, the lady lifted Maria's skirt at the front and the whipping paused and Maria felt her sex bursting open like a swollen fruit, spilling its juice all over the lady's fingers, which sank deeper as the thumb slid up her bottom. This vision of Maria's coming to climax on the lady's fingers drew the other girl's come so harshly and deeply from her body that she bucked until Maria heard the young man's knuckles crack between her thighs.
The lady then dismissed Maria. 'Leave your knickers where they lie; I doubt you shall have need of them henceforth. But take your tray, girl.' The lady's face was stony. Maria, at first stunned, rushed sobbing from the room.
Afterwards, the cruel callousness of that dismissal remained with her, but so did the other memories – the unbearable sensations of lewdness and pleasure, the images of the naked men, but most of all, the intimacy of that contact with a restrained nude girl and – once the sexual touching is combined with whipping – those powerful, heady feelings of control. After that day a marked change befell Maria: no longer content just to watch the other girls in their fake enactments, she thrust a new edge of craving into their girlish games; instead of recycling tales of the lewdness of the guests she fell to instigating the antics. As for the present, there was a score to settle, starting with some enquiries at the livery yard.
With Maria gone, Lauren was staring at Leah, whose belly was still quaking after the powerful surge of pleasure she had spilled into Ean's hand. The intense climax had started in her bottom under the probing of that middle finger. Then the thumb sliding up her sex had triggered the feeling that his whole hand
was inside her, back and front, and was squeezing her womb.
'You can't leave her too long like that. Take her down – carefully,' Lauren finally told the men.
Leah was unfastened and bundled on to the bed. She could not move her fingers because the tendons in her wrists felt so stretched. She murmured with the pain as Kapler worked them. 'Free her nipples, Ean.' They had swelled so much that the horsehair was bedded. Goose-flesh spread across her breast as Ean unwound the buried strands. When he sucked her nipples, she felt as if they would burst; her trembling fingers clasped his head and her nails dug into his scalp. He nuzzled the sides of her breasts and under her arms, causing shivers that made the feeling in her nipples more sexual and keen. When she looked up again, Lauren was standing, waiting. Very gently she touched the horsehair bindings at the tops of Leah's thighs. 'Puffy lips and puffy nipples . . . Is she not beautiful, Ean?' In Lauren's other hand were two thongs of leather, like bootlaces. 'Leah, do you know what these are for?'
Leah knew well, for she had used something similar only last night: they were to make the penis bloat to fill a girl as completely as a girl could take. Lauren made her tie them on the men. She sat her on the edge of the bed and made her begin with Kapler. Leah's fingers were weakened and clumsy; his penis, already powerfully erect, bobbed in front of her face. 'Take the cord under the balls,' Lauren corrected. Leah looped the thong under his sac then over the root of his penis and round. 'Take up the slack, Leah,' Lauren encouraged. She ran her fingers, redolent with Maria's musk, under Leah's hair. 'Now tighten it . . .' Her trembling fingers pulled at the thong and pulled again and Kapler gasped. His penis had swelled so fat that its veins stood out blue. As Leah touched it in adjusting the cord, Lauren began to kiss Leah and to fondle her breasts very softly, in the way that women do. Leah began to shake, not simply from the fondling, but also from the pleasure of forcing the male arousal to come on stronger, against the burgeoning pain of such rigid swelling. It felt burning hot now; she could feel its heat on her face, though her face was not quite touching it.
'Keep wrapping the cord round the root,' Lauren murmured, kissing her ear. Kapler shuddered. 'Round again,' Lauren whispered hoarsely. 'Keep it tight – tuck the end in. Pull again – make certain. Now look at it – so fat now. Kiss it.' Lauren was now touching Leah between the legs, masturbating her swollenness very gently and Leah was staying open for it, as best she could, the horsehair cords chafing the tops of her thighs, her slit so narrow in all her swelling, desiring the bulging penis yet sure that it could never fit. She took the burning male flesh in both hands and kissed it like a lover, all the way down its rigid underside to the bedded cord and the bulging sac. As her head tilted to suck the stem she glimpsed Ean's jealous gaze. Then she moaned, for Lauren was teasing out her engorged clitoris, pushing the sheath back. And the heat of all the blood, pumped up inside the penis, seemed to burn her lips; the veins stood out like whipcords. She imagined it inside her body, its hot shiny cap up against her womb, and she almost came on Lauren's probing fingers that were trying to widen her constricted slit to make an oval, prior to penetration. Oil came out of her. 'No – don't close your legs,' Lauren whispered to her. 'We all want to see and I want to feel . . .' Her thighs were shaking as Lauren pulled her head back and held her slit open and the warm trickles came, glistening against the damask sheet.
Leah was then put to binding Ean's penis. It was the larger after tying and its flesh was smoother; it turned bright cherry red and the glans was shiny purple. During the binding, Ean's climax almost came; Leah felt the signs and she slowed and waited. 'Good girl,' Lauren whispered. 'Treat it gently – save it up. We shall very soon need it.' She made Leah lie on the bed, clasping the two erections, one in each hand. When Lauren spread Leah's thighs, Leah impulsively turned and kissed the shiny wet tip of Ean's penis. Lauren tried again with Leah's oval, attempting to widen it. 'Push out,' she encouraged, stroking the flesh rhythmically and very firmly outwards with her thumbs, until Leah moaned and a deep drawing feeling came. Under such tenacious manipulation, though her sex did not truly open, the inner walls slowly erupted. 'Please . . .,' she begged, guiding Ean's penis closer.
'There . . . Teach him,' Lauren murmured approvingly, edging aside, steering her young groom by the hips.
Leah wanted to be penetrated deeply, properly. Ean was already close to gasping with excitement. She softened her grip on the shaft she was guiding but the barest touch seemed almost too much for him. She tried to hold that part of the stem where she knew there was less sensitivity. But in its tautly rigid state even the slightest movement triggered pulses that she could feel reverberating through the root. The buried seminal gland was already overflowing, for its oil was smearing against her out-turned inner lips. That feeling, of the trembling cock-tip painting its oil on her, was delicious. It could only be seconds before his climax. Steadily, gently, Leah tried to push just the glans inside her. 'Shh,' she murmured, deep and guttural, trying to calm this novice lover, trying to slow him. She groaned as the glans at last went in; her body held it, tried to burst it. None of the stem was in, yet the feeling was truly sublime. Leah stared up into his eyes, so drugged by this new pleasure she was giving him, so lost in longing. For a beautiful timeless moment Leah held the head of Ean's penis tightly captive in her flesh. Then, increasing the cruel pressure, she reached up and kissed him, very gently, and held that kiss, while her sex still squeezed just the head of his cock and she judged his come precisely – felt the hopeless spasm that immediately precedes ejaculation. Then she lay back very slowly and leisurely, took the exposed shaft in her fingers and made her sex gently expel the glans. A second later his fluid squirted like boiling milk over the out-turned bloated inner lips of her sex and up her belly. It seemed to keep coming, thrumming past her thumb-pad that was pressed against the underside of his stem.
Kapler swiftly lifted Leah's leg until her body twisted over on its side, and her fingers and thumb lost contact with Ean's penis. The last of his ejaculate sprayed over the horsehair encircling the top of her thigh and ran into the cleft of her buttocks. Her anus trembled, coated in warm semen. Kapler massaged it open with his fingers. 'See – it knows what to do,' he murmured. Leah dared not breathe now: the steady masturbation of her anus was stirring such lewd and pleasurable feelings. Suddenly the grossly distended head of Kapler's penis forced the semen-wetted opening wide. 'Tuck your knees up tight, girl.' She gasped as his penis pushed again and bulged against her tight vagina from behind. She tried to lift her leg to expose her pushed-out knob to toying. Lauren touched, deliberately too gently. Then Kapler's penis thrust inside Leah; its leather binding rimmed her anus; hot ejaculate burst inside her.
She reached again for Ean's glans. Lauren rubbed her between the legs, very steadily, extracting deep pleasure from Leah's womb. When Leah climaxed, Ean's ejaculate came again, hot upon her goose-fleshed breasts. When Lauren reached to smear it round her puffed-up nipples, Leah took Ean's weeping glans into her mouth and simply kept it there until it seemed a further climax overtook him. She put a hand against his belly and a hand beneath his sac, pressing the binding cord, taking deep sucks that drew his yield. He shuddered and caressed her face as she continued to try to drink even when he was dry.
Neither of the two penises deflated fully, even after Leah had unwound their bindings. She licked and kissed the deep grooves that she had incised around their roots and under their sacs. While she was licking Ean's penis, Kapler fingered her anus open, and she felt his warm semen running out. Lauren brought Maria's moist knickers from where they lay on the floor; Leah thought she meant to put them on her. But Lauren carefully turned them inside out and bunched them up and very slowly pushed them up Leah's bottom. The pleasure came as the men looked on; Leah lay rigidly on her side, her knees tucked up, afraid to move, her fingers clutching the sheet, not wanting her pleasure to come in such a way, but come it did – very strongly and surely, with Lauren's fingers, sheathed in the half inserted knickers, rubbing their girl-
soaked inner surface steadily through the tightening tender opening. Lauren then sighed and touched Leah between the legs very gently, extending the anal come to a beauteous soft and pervasive genital pleasure, such as only a woman's fingertips can bestow.
The men said that they would play with her overnight. Kapler lifted her into his lap, with Maria's knickers still half pushed inside her, and gently raised her ankles in the air. Then the door burst open. There was the briefest glimpse of an avenging Maria, before Merek – eyes wild, already crazed with jealousy – swept past the retreating chambermaid and crashed into the room, dragging his steersman, Asgal, by the ear.
For a few long seconds Lauren stared at the interloper, who appeared almost paralysed with rage as he glared back at her. Then she said calmly: 'Who are you, my lord? Though I suspect I can guess . . .'
Merek barked back: 'My lady, it is he . . .!' – stabbing a finger at Asgal, cowering on his knees beside him – 'this despicable creature, my own steersman, who has guessed who you are!'
For the first time that evening Lauren paled, clearly thrown by the remark. Kapler looked distinctly uncomfortable as Merek went on: 'Your husband is a successful leather merchant, is he not? Well, he has his shipment aboard my boat. And this slime-bag . . .' – he said, kicking Asgal – 'not content with prostituting my slave, now has it in mind to blackmail you with tales of what you get up to with your stable-hands while your husband is away!' He stared hard at Lauren. 'Madam – I care not that you cuckold your husband. But when my steersman seeks now to embroil me in his vile scheming, as a way of mitigation . . . Tell her!' Again he kicked Asgal, who could only curl into a whimpering ball. Then Merek, temporarily drained, turned in hopeless disillusion to address the room. 'What price loyalty?' he asked resignedly. Lauren bit her lip. He had not looked at Leah even once but she burst into tears.