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Stephanie's Trial

Page 4

by Susanna Hughes


  'You make me come,' he said with a hint of anger in his voice.

  'Ahmed...' she said, letting his cock slip from between her lips. 'You can come in my mouth. I love that. I love spunk. I love tasting spunk. I just want to please you.' Her tone was not something Stephanie understood. It was definitely not that of a lover trying to find ways of pleasing the object of her affections. It was more desperate, as though pleasing this Arab was a matter of some importance.

  'I fuck you then.'

  'If that's what you want,' she said, but for some reason she did not sound convinced.

  Doreen got to her feet. As she turned to get on to the bed Stephanie saw her breasts for the first time. They were beautifully shaped, not large but perfectly round with disproportionately large nipples that were hard and erect with a dark brown areola. She stooped to kiss the man but he turned away.

  'No kiss,' he said, brusquely standing up, his erect cock at right-angles to his body.

  'Fuck me then,' Doreen said provocatively and with a certain amount of anger. She lay on the bed and opened her legs. Her pubic hair was as blonde as the hair on her head and as thick. She combed it apart with the fingers of both hands, then inserted two fingers deep into her cunt right up to the knuckle. She moaned.

  The Arab watched. 'I like this,' he said, standing over her.

  'Do you know what I like, Ahmed?'

  'No.'

  Doreen's fingers plunged in and out of her cunt. The Arab knelt on the bed between her legs so he could get a better view of her masturbation.

  'Do you want to know?'

  'You like this,' he said as he gazed into her crotch.

  'But what I really like. Do you know what I really like?' She seemed more confident now as if she had found the key, as if she knew how to get whatever it was she wanted from this man.

  'No.'

  'I arranged it before. Look at the top of the bed...'

  'Bed?'

  'At the top in the middle, under the pillow.'

  He crawled up the bed on his knees and pulled the pillow away. Lying on the sheet Stephanie could see a pair of handcuffs attached to a short white nylon rope that was obviously, in turn, secured either to the bed or the wall behind it.

  'This...' The Arab picked up the cuffs and worked them between his fingers as if trying to see how they locked.

  'I like to be bound, Ahmed. Helpless. I love the feeling of being helpless.' The rate at which her fingers were pummelling in and out of her sex was now so fast it was virtually a blur on the television screen. But for some reason Stephanie felt this was all a performance, a show staged for the Arab's benefit, to turn him on.

  It was clearly working too. The Arab suddenly snaked out a hand, caught the woman by the wrist and pulled her fingers out from between her legs and up over her head, snapping the steel cuff into place in a seemingly effortless manoeuvre. With equal speed he had grabbed and secured the other hand.

  'You want...' he said gruffly. It was not a question. His erection was much bigger now and a tear of fluid had formed at its tip. Doreen writhed against her bonds, twisting her long slender body on the bed.

  'Yes, I want,' she said.

  'You want...' he repeated, taking his cock in his hand and wanking it hard. With his other hand he leant over her body and pulled her hip, turning her on her stomach. She did not resist, but twisted her head round so she could look back at him. The look in her eyes was full of excitement.

  Almost unconsciously Stephanie had cupped one hand over her left breast while the other stroked the black satin that covered the crease of her sex. For a moment she tore her eyes from the television screen to look at Venetia's naked body. There was little to choose between Venetia and Doreen. Both were long-limbed and sensuous. Both had bodies that seemed to purr with sex. But their needs were very different. Stephanie could see Venetia's need. She was not turned on by what was on the screen: Venetia had no interest in heterosexual sex. Her body was throbbing, aching, keening because of Stephanie's proximity, because she hoped and prayed that Stephanie would turn to her soon and use her or ask to be used. Venetia's eyes were on Stephanie's long stockinged legs, flicking up to the satin-covered breasts and the triangle of her belly, when she dared.

  Stephanie returned to the television, ignoring Venetia's need for the time being. She was teasing Venetia, she knew, and doing it deliberately.

  Doreen's need was for cock. As the Arab moved down the bed she thrust her bum high into the air. In response he slapped it hard with the palm of his hand. Obviously this amused him. He wrapped one arm around her waist and used his other hand to slap each of her buttocks in turn three or four times. Then he got between Doreen's long legs and was pulling her up on to her knees by taking hold of her hips. Her arse was reddened by the spanking he had given her.

  'You want...' he grunted again.

  'Yes,' she said. 'Do it.' She twisted around again to try and look into his eyes but it was impossible with her hands bound and stretched out in front of her. He had pulled her back so far the steel cuffs bit into her wrists.

  He pushed his rampant cock forward but not into her labia. His target was higher and smaller.

  'You want...' It was his litany. With a massive thrust he jammed the head of his cock into the corrugated bud of her anus. Doreen groaned. With his hands on her hips he used all his considerable strength to pull her back onto him. The movement tightened the short nylon rope, Doreen's arms pulled to their limit. She opened the fingers of both hands like the petals of some strange flower, her bound wrists its stem, and screamed as the Arab's penis sunk all the way down into the rear passage of her body. But she recovered instantly and ground her buttocks against his navel, moaning 'yes' every time he thrust forward.

  'Who are they?' Stephanie asked Venetia.

  'I think the Arab was a customer of Devlin's.'

  Doreen was coming, screaming at the top of her voice, her whole body thrashing around on the cock impaled inside her.

  'And Doreen?'

  'Don't know.'

  The Arab slapped his hand down on Doreen's writhing buttock and the thwack of skin on skin filled the air. It only served to redouble Doreen's efforts, thrusting herself against him with new vigour.

  'A slave?' Stephanie asked.

  'Probably someone he had on the hook.'

  'And she's working very hard to get off it.'

  The Arab groaned, his big muscles locked and he held himself completely still, letting Doreen's movements bring him off, his cock spunking in her arse.

  'She's very beautiful.'

  'Yes she is,' Venetia said quietly.

  'Turn it off.'

  There were the words Venetia most wanted to hear. She pressed the buttons on the bedside console and the screen went black.

  'Do you want one of the others?' Venetia asked, hoping the answer would be no.

  'It's still early, isn't it? I want to go out and eat something.' Stephanie enjoyed the expression of disappointment she saw on Venetia's face, still in the mood to tease. 'But not yet.'

  Venetia didn't know what to do. She didn't like being played with like this but she knew she had no choice.

  Stephanie leant forward. 'Undo my bra,' she said deliberately coldly as though issuing an order to one of the slaves.

  Venetia knelt up on the bed and reached behind Stephanie's back to unfasten the clips of the bra.

  'Take it off,' Stephanie ordered in the same tone. A frisson of pleasure ran through her nerves at the sound of her own voice, so controlled, so calculating. The castle had taught her how to please herself, how to get what she wanted. She moved her body not at all as Venetia's hands pulled the satin bra straps from her shoulders, allowing her to work them down over her arms until the cups of the bra fell away from her breasts. Only then did she lift her arms to allow the bra to fall away. Her breasts trembled, their nipples prominent.

  She looked straight into Venetia's eyes. She could see her uncertainty, and even a slight flare of resentment at the way she was
being treated. Very slowly Stephanie reached up with her hand to touch Venetia's cheek, caressing it gently with the back of her hand. She had suddenly tired of the game she was playing. She didn't want them to be mistress and slave any more. She wanted them to be two women, equal, together.

  'Venetia,' she said, her voice soft and tender now, 'would you make love to me, darling? Do whatever you want to me. I want to feel you again. Like we were the first time.'

  'It's different now.'

  'It doesn't have to be. I'm sorry... it takes me some time to adjust from the castle. Let's just be together.'

  Stephanie kissed both Venetia's cheeks and then centred on her mouth, kissing her hard, sucking up her tongue and her lower lip, feeling Venetia's breasts crushing into her, running her hands down Venetia's long spine and over the plump curves of her buttocks. Without breaking the kiss she murmured in Venetia's mouth, 'Do it to me, do it to me...'

  Venetia's heart was pounding. She pushed Stephanie back on the bed until she was lying flat. Then she moved her mouth down her neck, planting it with little pecking kisses, all the way down her throat and up again, up the long prominent tendons of her neck and onto her ear. She nibbled the fat lobe between her teeth, then sent her hot wet tongue deep into its whorls, deep down as far as it would go. Stephanie moaned and arched her body off the bed as an unconscious reaction to this invasion, feeling the sap oozing out of her sex as she ground her thighs together.

  Venetia's hand fell to Stephanie's firm breasts. As her tongue described circles in Stephanie's ear her long fingers teased at Stephanie's hard, puckered nipple. Using her perfectly manicured fingernails Venetia pinched the tender flesh between her thumb and forefinger. Stephanie moaned again.

  Leaving her ear, Venetia's mouth kissed its way down the length of Stephanie's neck, down over the hollow of her collar-bone and up along the rise of her breast, replacing her fingers with her mouth at the nipple. Freed from this duty, while her tongue nudged and circled and prodded at the hard button of flesh, her hand smoothed its way down past Stephanie's iron-flat navel and over the silky frills of her satin panties.

  Stephanie's legs were already open, one leg bent slightly at the knee, the other flat against the sheets. Using the softness of the satin, Venetia's hand stroked her lower belly, feeling the harsh pubic hair underneath. Then she allowed her hand lower, down over the precipitous curve of the pubic bone until she could feel the softness of Stephanie's labia under the shiny satin. There, down between her legs the material was damp. Venetia stroked gently at first, the whole length of the crease from anus to clitoris, using the satin to press into the delicate flesh. As her tongue worked Stephanie's nipple, moving now from one breast to the other, her hand gradually pressed harder, pushing the satin up into the folds of Stephanie's labia, pressing deeper then with just one finger until the material rode right up into the wet warmth of her sex itself, up until Venetia's finger, sheathed by satin like some strange contraceptive, was up to the knuckle in Stephanie's sex.

  Stephanie writhed on it, arching off the bed again, rotating her hips from side to side, feeling the odd sensation of satin soaking up the juices of her body. She was very excited now. The image of Doreen, that slim beautiful body, being opened and buggered by the Arab played in her mind as it had on the screen. She could hear her scream, the unique noise of pain and exquisite pleasure inexorably mixed.

  Venetia left the satin pressed into Stephanie's sex but extracted her finger. Releasing the nipple from her mouth she sat up and used both hands to pull at the waistband of the panties, easing them over Stephanie's hips. Stephanie cooperated, lifting her buttocks off the bed. The panties rolled down her thighs until the satin in her sex formed the apex of a triangle of black fabric. Slowly Venetia pulled down, watching the material slip from between Stephanie's labia. Stephanie shuddered as it finally left the folds of her tender pink niche.

  Throwing the wet panties aside, Venetia bent over Stephanie's body. She unclipped the four suspenders from the welts of the stockings and rolled the black nylon down Stephanie's legs. She unclipped the suspender belt too and pulled it away. Stephanie was naked.

  Venetia looked down at Stephanie's body, allowing the feeling of desire it provoked to rush through her like a drug. She dipped her head until she was kissing Stephanie's navel, inserted her tongue into her belly-button, then licked and kissed her way down until she could feel pubic hair brushing her lips. But she did not delve lower. She had other ideas. Her mouth trailed down the slope of Stephanie's thigh, her lips and tongue working continuously on the inner flesh until it had reached her knee. Here she paused, sucking on the kneecap while her hands, both hands, caressed and kneaded the top of Stephanie's thigh, grazing her labia but no more than that.

  As she moved her mouth lower, down over Stephanie's calf, she straightened her legs from her kneeling position so she was lying alongside Stephanie on her stomach. Her mouth reached Stephanie's feet. She licked her toes and sucked on them.

  Stephanie's body throbbed. Venetia was a wonderful lover. Her touch, her mouth, the things she did were perfect. Deep in her sex Stephanie felt her excitement gathering like storm clouds, thick and dark and ready to erupt.

  Venetia was parting Stephanie's thighs with her hands, spreading them wide apart. As she did she slid further down the bed until Stephanie felt her heavy breasts at her feet. What was she doing? Venetia rolled on to her side and slid the foot of her bottom leg, the one on the sheets, under Stephanie's knee. Stephanie was still not sure what she intended. Venetia's leg pushed up under Stephanie's thigh. Groping around she found both Stephanie's hands and locked her fingers into them tightly. Then suddenly she pulled hard and rolled Stephanie onto her side so their two bodies slid towards each other and the V of their thighs, the melting centres of their sex, were forced together. With their heads at opposite ends of the bed, their legs open, their cunts were crushed against each other, joined.

  It was an incredible sensation. Stephanie felt her body pulsing as she held Venetia's hands tightly, using them to lever herself down onto Venetia's cunt. She could feel Venetia's labia, her heat, her wetness, just as well as she could feel her own. They ground against each other, rocking from side to side, their bodies like a modern sculpture of entangled limbs, Venetia's calf at Stephanie's throat, Stephanie's foot curled under Venetia's neck. All that mattered was their cunts, all that mattered was the rhythm of their bodies and the strange but wonderful sucking sensation that their wet labia produced. It felt like two mouths kissing.

  As they moved the contact got deeper. It was as though they were melting together. But then, quite suddenly, Venetia changed the angle of their bodies slightly and Stephanie gasped as she felt the bud of her clitoris right up against the bloated, pulsing lozenge of Venetia's. It felt like a cock, a tiny miniature cock, probing against her. She had never felt anything quite like it. Stephanie knew it was going to make her come, the remorseless rhythm as Venetia rubbed their clitorises together was impossible to resist.

  'Oh yes, yes...' Stephanie moaned. 'Darling... yes...' They writhed on the bed, rocking, rolling, undulating against each other, like two snakes coiled together.

  And then her body gave way and she was falling back down into billowing clouds of sensation, down until she could feel nothing but the incredible sensitivity of her own sex pressing against another cunt, another clitoris, like a mirror reflecting and defining and amplifying every feeling. She knew Venetia had come at almost the same moment. Somewhere in her mind she could just distinguish the pulsing of her own orgasm from the throbbing labia and juicy wetness of Venetia's own climax.

  Slowly Venetia unwound herself from Stephanie's body and came to lie beside her, shoulder to shoulder.

  'Wonderful,' Stephanie whispered.

  'You want more, don't you?'

  'Yes, I do... You're very sensitive aren't you?'

  'What do you want?'

  'Godemiché.' It was the word the beautiful black French girl Jasmina had taught her.

&nbs
p; 'Godemiché?' Venetia looked puzzled.

  'It's French for dildo,' Stephanie said, smiling. Without another word Venetia got up off the bed and walked into the dressing-room. Experimentally Stephanie opened her legs and stroked her labia. They felt tender but deliciously alive, still humming with pleasure. She was not finished. Venetia was right, her body yearned for more. She heard Venetia opening a drawer but could not see her. Her fingers pressed into her clitoris and she closed her eyes as a wave of pleasure shot through her nerves, joining up with the aftermath of the orgasm that still lingered in her body. With her eyes closed she rubbed a little imaginary circle on the tiny bud at the centre of her sex and was overwhelmed again by a rush of exquisite sensation, instantly reminding her of how Venetia's sex had felt pressed so intimately against her own.

  When she opened her eyes again Venetia stood by the bed. She had strapped herself into a tight harness of thick black leather. A belt encircled her waist. From each side of her hip and from the middle three leather straps ran down to the junction of her thighs, where they joined to become one, ran up and over her sex and between the cleft of her buttocks. High on her buttocks the strap was then buckled tightly again to the leather at her waist. Where the three straps met, directly over her pubic triangle, a large black plastic dildo had been pushed through a hole in the leather, its base flared out in a shape that neatly covered her pubis and was held firm by the straps. At the apex of the triangle the black plastic was extended, curving down between her legs.

  'Is this what you wanted?'

  'Where did you get that?'

  'There's a whole chest of stuff in the dressing room. Didn't you find it when you were here last?'

  Venetia was squeezing a thick sticky cream from a tube over the head of the dildo. She smeared it over the whole length, making it glisten.

  'Fuck me, Venetia,' Stephanie said, her excitement increasing as she watched Venetia's fingers working on the dildo. 'I need it.'

  It was time. Stephanie scissored her legs apart. There was something extraordinarily sexy about watching Venetia standing there, her gorgeous body strapped with leather, a dildo jutting from her loins, her hand playing with it as though it were a cock.

 

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