New Erotica 5

by Неизвестный

  Hera stepped between them, her legs straddling the chain easily. She smiled down at Debbie and raised her skirt. ‘This is your last test of obedience,’ she explained quietly. ‘All you have to do is lick my cunt, and keep those clips on your tits.’

  Debbie nodded her acceptance. She saw Grace move behind Hera and realised that Melanie was going to have to do the same thing for her. The chain between their breasts was already stretched taut. With the two women between them, the links felt as though they were being stretched to biting point and Debbie could feel her breasts being gently pulled and tugged by the merciless clip that bit into her nipple.

  Trying not to think of the discomfort or the pleasure it aroused, Debbie raised her head to Hera’s sex. She pushed her tongue into the moist hole and licked greedily at the slick wetness that waited for her. The pain in her nipples was already thrilling her beyond belief and with the added excitement of drinking Hera’s pussy honey she could feel herself hurtling madly towards a powerful orgasm. Her body ached with the pounding pulse of her joy and as she lapped furiously at the delicate folds of Hera’s sex, she could feel the euphoria of divine bliss sweeping over her like an all-encompassing blanket. Her entire body seemed to have been filled with the delight of orgasm and she wondered distantly if such an act was permissible in the middle of an initiation. She was unable to see Hera’s face from her position below her but she was determined to stall her climax until she felt sure it was allowed.

  Gradually, as the biting in her breasts seemed to increase in intensity, she realised she was being pushed backwards. She could just make out the delicious mounds of Grace’s backside and noted the woman had moved slightly away from Hera. With a soft smile of realisation, Debbie saw that the two women were deliberately forcing her and Melanie backwards. Each careful step was placing more and more pressure on the links of the chain that connected them.

  Hera’s hand, pulling her hair sharply, yanked Debbie’s head back into the proper position. She knew she should not have needed reminding about the task at hand and eagerly plunged her tongue back against the warm, succulent flesh of Hera’s sex.

  A soft growl escaped the leader. Debbie felt the noise rather than heard it but she could not stop herself from smiling when she realised she had been the instigator of the woman’s pleasure. Her smile disappeared when Hera stepped forward, thrusting the lips of her demanding pussy into Debbie’s face.

  Pushed backwards, Debbie felt the pressure on her nipples reach an unbearable pitch. The delicate pleasure they had given her at first was now replaced by a constant pulse that was almost an ache. Her body was screaming for the release of an orgasm and she did not know if she could contain the explosion of delight much longer.

  Grace and Melanie were making sounds of enjoyment and she tried not to think of the things they might be doing to one another. Instead, she tried to channel her thoughts away from her own enjoyment and into the task of pleasing Hera. Her concentration was focused on Hera’s pussy. Both the scent and the taste were totally exhilarating.

  ‘Yes,’ Hera growled, her voice rich with triumphant elation. Her fingers still rested on Debbie’s hair and she tugged hard as she enjoyed the explosion of her orgasm.

  Debbie could feel her face being pressed into the dark swatch of pubic curls and a fine spray of pussy juice spattered against her cheeks and nose, exciting her with their warmth and intimacy. Too late, she realised the excitement of Hera’s climax had proved too much. As the leader orgasmed, she had bucked her hips forward with the force of the pleasure and the pressure on the paper clips had finally grown too strong. Her breasts were suddenly aflame with the exquisite joy of such torturous punishment when the clips delivered their final bite before departing.

  She screamed happily as a powerful climax overwhelmed her. Unable to stop herself, she toppled backwards, away from Hera. She fell heavily to the floor, too lost in the rapture of her delight to note the bruises she sustained to her forearm and elbow. The waves of bliss that swept over her were so great she did not even realise Hera had tugged a handful of hairs from her head as she fell.

  When her mind finally cleared and she was ready to face reality after the thrill of her climax, she opened her eyes to see Hera smiling benignly down at her.

  Behind her, Grace was helping Melanie to dress. The two women seemed to share an intimacy that went beyond their membership of the Black Garter and in her mood of sublime satisfaction, Debbie found herself wishing them well.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Hera said, kneeling on the floor next to Debbie. She leant forward and placed a soft kiss on Debbie’s lips. Moving back slightly, she reached for Debbie’s ankle and moved her hands over it.

  Debbie’s heart was beating with excitement as she realised what Hera was doing. An inane grin split her lips and she smiled giddily at the woman.

  Hera fastened the garter at the top of Debbie’s leg and, after sliding her hands from beneath it, she allowed her fingertips to tickle gently against the subsiding pulse of Debbie’s labia. ‘Welcome to the Black Garter,’ Hera whispered.

  Debbie wished she could find words that summed up her gratitude properly.

  ‘I wish we could stay and talk,’ Hera said, stretching herself as she moved from the floor. ‘But I still have a lot to do. I’ll want to talk with you in the next couple of days though,’ she went on. ‘So, I trust you’ll make yourself available to me.’

  Eagerly, Debbie nodded. She heard the muted ring of her telephone from its drawer. Hesitantly, she glanced at Hera, wondering if she had to ask permission before she could use it.

  Hera nodded. ‘Take your call,’ she told her, ‘we’re leaving now.’

  Debbie watched the three of them leave before going for the telephone. She was warmed by their parting words of farewell and touched by the new look of respect they graced her with. Smiling, she realised it was not truly respect, they were simply looking at her now as though she was an equal.

  The telephone continued to ring. Taking it into the bedroom, Debbie lay wearily on the bed and pressed the receive button.

  ‘Bunny? Is that you?’

  Debbie recognised Steven’s voice straight away.

  ‘Yes, it’s me,’ she replied quickly. A sudden wave of horror stole over her as she realised how close she had come to destroying her chance of joining the Black Garter. The stories she had told Steven, the information she had given him, it could all have worked so badly against her.

  As she held the phone in one hand, she teased the fabric of her new black garter with the other. The sense of accomplishment and belonging that the black garter embodied made her tremble.

  ‘Did you leave a message on my voice-mail?’ Steven asked sharply. ‘I don’t know if my PC’s playing up, or if I’ve had someone snooping through my records.’

  Debbie frowned. ‘Yes, I left a message,’ she assured him. She repeated the words she had left on the recording, though the prickle of her conscience weighted the words with regret as she spoke.

  ‘Where are they meeting, Bunny?’

  Debbie hesitated. ‘I’m not sure.’ It suddenly seemed so wrong to be betraying the Black Garter that she found it difficult to talk to Steven. ‘Listen, perhaps I’ve been wrong to go telling tales on these girls,’ she suggested suddenly.

  Even over the telephone she could sense the iron in Steven’s voice. ‘You’ll go on telling me about them if you know what’s good for you.’

  Debbie caught a frightened breath. ‘Are you threatening me?’

  ‘That’s as good a word as any,’ he agreed boldly. ‘Now speak, Bunny. I want to know about these two girls tonight, and I want those three yearbooks you promised me. You’ll tell me what I want to know, or I’ll make your life at that school a living hell.’

  Unhappily, Debbie realised he was in just the right position to make good with the threat. Closing her eyes, and hating herself as she did it, Debbie told him about Anna and Cassie’s planned night out.

  ‘But just that and the yearbooks,�
� she said abruptly.

  His sinister laugh was chilling.

  ‘I mean it,’ Debbie insisted, unable to keep the rising panic from her voice. ‘I’ve given you enough already. You should be happy with what you’ve had.’

  ‘Just carry on making me happy and neither of us will have a problem, Bunny,’ he said easily. ‘Do you follow my meaning?’

  Miserably, Debbie realised that she did.

  BLACK TIDE

  Aishling Morgan

  Aishling Morgan’s tales evoke a world of bold and wanton strumpets, gorging rakes, sex-crazed goblins and girls with tiger fur and fangs. And with domination and submission – together with all kinds of bizarre sex – weaving themselves throughout her plots, this is fantasy fiction in more ways than one. Her Nexus books are as follows:

  The Rake

  Maiden

  Tiger, Tiger

  Devon Cream

  Purity

  Captive

  Deep Blue

  Pleasure Toy

  Velvet Skin

  Peaches and Cream

  Wenches, Witches and Strumpets

  Whipping Girl

  Cream Tease

  Natural Desire, Strange Design

  Cruel Shadow

  Black Tide, however, is a stand-alone story you won’t find in print anywhere else.

  ‘Josepina is a wanton, Brother Florian, no more than a wanton.’

  ‘Indeed, Brother Siward, yet we must persevere.’

  ‘Just so, Brother Florian. Doubtless her obstinacy is sent to try us. Her sin?’

  ‘In essence, gross moral turpitude. Do you wish the particulars?’

  ‘Name them to her face. Who knows but she might feel shame and thus begin to repent.’

  ‘As it is willed.’

  Florian struck a gong, admitting a girl, slight, dark-haired, freckled, gently rounded at haunch and chest. Her expression, initially of trepidation, altered to sullen defiance, her snub nose turned deliberately up.

  ‘You have erred, child,’ Brother Siward addressed her.

  Josepina remained immobile.

  ‘Possibly when confronted with your sins you will show less impudence,’ the Brother continued.

  ‘To whit,’ Brother Florian stated, ‘a series of acts so base as to seem animal, yet distinguished by an intricate sensuality that discounts all possibility of your pleading blind lust. Self-abuse, on occasions too frequent to numerate. The sucking of members, three times at the least. The taking of seed in your mouth. Enjoining the shippen-men to spill their seed across your face, with offering to share the pallet of he who could perform this revolting act in the least time. Bedding with Grey Simon. The wilful surrender of your cunt without intent to procreate, much less within the sanctity of marriage. Urinating in the boiling-vat. Sodomy.’

  Josepina made no response, save to shift her weight from one foot to the other.

  ‘Revolting child,’ Brother Siward added. ‘Do you have no plea? Will you not say you were forced to these uncouth acts?’

  Again Josepina stayed quiet.

  ‘Dishonesty, at least, cannot be numbered among your vices. Will you at the least show remorse?’

  The girl shook her head, the tiniest of movements.

  ‘So be it. Fifty strokes. Bare yourself.’

  Without a word Josepina turned her back to the men. Bending, she flicked her long dress on to her back, revealing culottes of coarse linen, loose around the thighs, tight at the waist and across her buttocks. Her hand went to the drawstring with a motion indifferent, almost contemptuous, tugging the bow out to allow the garment to drop to the level of her ankles. Naked, her bottom formed two chubby hemispheres of girl-flesh, firm, yet heavy, each marked with a scattering of freckles. Between them, her sex showed clearly, a soft mound richly covered with black hair, the pout of her lips and the knot of pink flesh between them conveying not shame and misery, but insolence.

  Tugging the waistband of her dress high, she let her breasts swing loose, two plump handfuls of dangling meat marked with the same freckles that decorated her face and bottom. Each nipple was stiff, a dark bud that gave the same message as the single bead of white fluid that had formed at the mouth of her vagina. Resting her hands on her knees, she composed herself for punishment, serene and to all appearances indifferent both to her nudity and the coming pain.

  ‘Incorrigible,’ Brother Siward sighed as he rose to his feet.

  ‘Take heart,’ Brother Florian answered. ‘I have a cut of blackthorn fresh from the vinegar barrel. Perhaps it will have some effect where lesser instruments have failed.’

  Brother Siward nodded, his eyes never leaving the girl’s exposed body. Brother Florian moved to one side, opening a chest to take up a length of black wood, thin and pliable, its surface reflecting dull gleams in the sunlight. Josepina watched from the corner of her eye, her expression betraying nothing of the responses of her body. Making a polite inclination of his head, Florian passed the whip to Siward.

  ‘Beat her well, Brother,’ he intoned. ‘Who knows, she may yet be moved to repentance.’

  Josepina’s flesh tightened as the wicked instrument of punishment was raised, her bottom cheeks tensing to part and hint at the dark pucker of her anus. Her eyes closed as the whip lashed down. It hit, making the flesh of her bottom bounce and quiver and her lips peel back from her teeth, briefly. A line of white sprang up across the smooth globes of her bottom, quickly turning to a fresh pink bordered in red.

  ‘Make comparison,’ Brother Florian addressed her, ‘as you are beaten. Your habit against that of your sisters, in particular Epiphany. At the quiet hours she prays; you perform lewd acts with menials. Commands she follows with placid obedience; you respond with poor grace, if at all. Her answer to the ribald calls of the churls is a shy blush and a turn of her head; you give back ripostes that bring colour to the cheeks of your tormentors.’

  Three more cuts had landed across Josepina’s naked rear as he spoke, and three times her bottom had bounced under the impacts, the flesh deforming briefly before returning to its natural, female shape. Each time her teeth had drawn briefly back, but not so much as a grunt had escaped her lips.

  Brother Siward continued with the beating, aiming hard cuts to make the girl’s buttocks jump and jiggle, one after another until her bottom was a mass of purple welts and double, scarlet tracks. All the while Brother Florian lectured, commenting on Josepina’s depravity and comparing her with the virtuous Epiphany. At last, red-faced and puffing, Brother Siward threw down the blackthorn whip.

  His colleague took the stick up, measured his aim across Josepina’s quivering bottom and brought it down with all his force across both nates. Brother Siward, his breath recovered, began in turn to berate the girl, remarking on the vulgarity of her exposure.

  ‘Do you not feel shame?’ he demanded. ‘Bent, with your cunt flaunted for all to see? Have you no modesty? Does revealing your breasts and buttocks mean nothing to you?’

  Josepina said nothing, gritting her teeth in response to Brother Florian’s now frantic belabouring of her buttocks and thighs.

  ‘Wanton trull!’ Siward contined. ‘We have made you strip! We have thrashed you! The hole of your cunt is showing, the hole from which you evacuate also, all that you should hold most secret! You respond with not so much as a flush to your cheeks!’

  Still Josepina declined to answer, her sole response to the savage punishment being the quickening of her breath and the gradual juicing and swelling of her sex. Her whole bottom was a mass of welts, nothing left uninjured save the depths of her cleft. Some small change in her poise had left her buttocks flared, pushing both vulva and anus into prominence, blatant and wet with her sweat and the fluid from her sex.

  Teeth set, eyes staring in furious determination, Brother Florian continued to thrash her, well beyond the designated fifty strokes, until at last the blackthorn whip snapped across her rear. As the end flew clear to skip briefly across the stone flags of the floor and come to rest against the
far wall, Josepina allowed the lightest of sighs to escape her lips. Florian stepped back and she held her pose, moving only to pull her back further in and make her sexual display yet more flagrant.

  ‘She has the hide of an ox!’ Florian declared, wiping sweat from his brow.

  ‘So many beatings,’ Siward answered. ‘Yet most learn quickly that to howl and jump brings mercy.’

  They paused, both men considering the beaten girl, Josepina looking back, her large dark eyes fully open, her expression unreadable.

  ‘I confess to a degree of tumescence,’ Brother Florian stated.

  ‘I also,’ Brother Siward answered.

  ‘Blind lust must be answered, the Lord forgive us our frailty.’

  ‘We are human, Brother, no more. To refuse to answer to our base needs would seem to be an act of hubris.’

  ‘Just so.’

  As one the men pulled up their robes, tucking the hems into their belts. Both revealed large bellies resting on spindly legs, pale skin, thick growths of pubic hair from the centres of which sprouted penes already close to erection. Brother Siward, the fatter of the two, stepped forward, took Josepina firmly by the hair and pressed his cock to her lips. Her mouth opened and she took him in, sucking the man who had just beaten her without hesitancy or resentment.

  Brother Florian watched the girl suck, tugging at his cock as he moved behind her. Lifting his belly, he laid it on her well-whipped buttocks, prodding at her vagina with his erection. It went in, finding the wet hole and slipping inside until his balls found the thick tangle of her pubic hair.

  Together they used her, one in each end, mouth and cunt, never once meeting the other’s eyes as they shared her body. Her reaction was indifferent, and showed nothing of guilt. Siward’s balls were soon in her hand, stroked and rubbed as she sucked on his erection. Her own breasts came next, cajoled as they swung to the motions of Florian’s pushes, caught up, weighed, the nipples teased and gently pinched. At last, with both men beginning to grunt and puff, she put her hand to her sex, rubbing at the swollen clitoris even as Florian’s heavy belly slapped against her bruised buttocks.