Valves & Vixens

by Nicole Gestalt

  “Pardon me for intruding in your research, Professor Ockham, but perhaps you should make a measurement of the appropriate force.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Seb said you had an accelerometer. Can you rig it up on your hand?”

  “On my hand?” An intriguing idea. It was small enough.

  “Yes. And then you can spank me. I’ll tell you when it hurts - ”

  His cock fought against the confines of his drawers.

  “That would be the force at which you should calibrate your swatters.”

  “But shouldn’t we use an instrument that measures the force of impact? And be attached to your, uh, backside?”

  “There should be enough force in your hand to make an adequate reading.”

  Of course she was correct. He had hired her for her intelligence. Everything else was just the sparkler in the pudding. “All right. Should we try this again after tea?”

  “No, no. I’ll just wait here - ”

  And continue to torment me -

  “You can see if it is feasible first, then we can make official tests later with calibrated instruments.”

  Edward tore his gaze away from Miss Bennett’s charms and scurried about the lab searching cabinets and boxes. He found one very large accelerometer used in testing machinery for his industrial clients. Just beneath it in the tool box was a smaller one long discarded as his projects had grown in scale and scope. Flat and round with metal brackets on opposite sides like a wristwatch, with a not-too-dirty glass cover over its dials and pointers. It would be perfect. Just how to attach it to his hand...

  “You can use one of Seb’s bicycling gloves.” Miss Bennett had read his mind.

  Sebastian delighted in traversing Newcastle’s cobblestone streets on his bicycle, taking perverse pleasure in the rough pounding his stones received when he sat on the seat. He had fashioned peculiar leather gloves with half-fingers and cut-out palms. It shielded his knuckles from the cold but allowed him the full ability to touch and feel the handlebar grips to better negotiate the bumps in the roads.

  He kept the special gloves and the bicycle in the lab instead of the mews. The damn thing needed constant repair.

  Having quickly retrieved the gloves Edward looped a leather band through the brackets on the accelerometer and slid and secured the band around the back of the right-hand one. He dragged a spare generator over and clamped the wires of the accelerometer to it. Slipping his hand inside the glove he was pleased to see that it fitted and wasn’t too heavy.

  “By Jove, this just might work!”

  Then he remembered what it was he was supposed to do. The sight of Miss Bennett’s ample bottom, her slightly parted legs covered in crimson stockings gartered above her knees, her lace-up boots hugging her muscles at mid-calf sent his heart pounding.

  The added sight of the dark damp curls peeking out from the apex of her milky thighs once again sent blood rushing to his cock.

  “I’m ready, Professor.”

  He hesitated. He was unaccustomed to hitting a woman. Gritting his teeth, he pulled back his arm and slapped the fleshy part of her bum with the tips of his fingers.

  “Oh!”

  He cringed. “Miss Bennett, I apologise - ”

  She laughed. “It was surprise, Professor, not pain. Please feel free to hit harder. And use your palm. What was that measurement?”

  He hadn’t looked at the accelerometer. He had been distracted by his assistant. “Sorry, I suppose I was more concerned for your safety.”

  She twisted her head around to look at him. “Such a gentleman,” she said with a smile. “You don’t have to be so delicate with me. I’m tough.”

  So be it. He sucked in a breath and some courage and swatted her again. She gasped.

  He saw the pointer this time. “Seven millivolts.”

  “Lovely.”

  Lovely wasn’t what the school mistresses at Miss Debenham’s wanted. He had to forget propriety. He went all out.

  She emitted something akin to a sensual moan.

  “Twelve.” Still not hard enough, although his cock was growing satisfied at the sight of her reddening cheek and the sound of her laboured breathing.

  He loosened up and let go. The tips of his fingers flicked against the puffy lips of her sex. She gulped a cry.

  “Fifteen.”

  He was achingly hard, enjoying the torture of his laboratory assistant far too much. But then it sounded as if she were enjoying it far too much, as well.

  He bent over her to murmur in her ear. “Miss Bennett, shall I stop?”

  “No, Professor Ockham. Please continue.” She was breathless.

  He did as requested. “Nineteen.”

  She whimpered.

  He no longer held back. “Twenty-two.”

  Miss Bennett remained still, subdued. Edward stared at his hand, his palm almost as red as the imprint on her bottom. And then his gaze wandered to her downy crevice. A sticky droplet of excitement clung to the hair in peril of dribbling to the floor.

  She was so wet, so tremendously wet. Her cunt would be so warm and willing. Edward unbuttoned the fly of his trousers and just enough of his drawers to stick his hand down his crotch. She wouldn’t turn around to look. At this point, she’d let him do whatever the hell he wanted and he was going to fuck her harder than he had fucked anyone ever.

  He grabbed his prick and stepped toward her splendid bottom -

  Then came all over his hand inside his drawers.

  Bollocks.

  “Professor?” Miss Bennett said meekly. “I think that last one might be just the hardness you’re looking for.”

  Edward frantically put himself to rights and wiped his hand on his handkerchief. “Right. Thank you, Miss Bennett. Twenty-two it is, then.” He stared at her, unsatisfied despite his climax, desperately hoping Sebbie would have a night in for a change.

  “Professor?”

  Edward jerked his gaze from her backside. “Miss Bennett?”

  “Would you untie me, please?”

  At that moment, every fantasy he had ever had involving Delia Bennett flashed in his mind. “Yes, of course.” He almost added darling.

  ***

  Delia waited until midnight to venture back to the laboratory. She peeked inside. It was empty and silent. She exhaled in relief.

  Earlier that day, once untied, she had excused herself and fled to her bedroom to masturbate. Yet, solo pleasure was sorely disappointing. Of course it was. Professor Ockham - her Edward - had just touched her bare arse!

  Then later, at supper, the air had been slightly awkward while Professor Ockham, all dapper and befuddled, tried to talk about any other topic than the spanking machine. Delia had suppressed her smiles but knew she had blushed as much as the Professor. Sebastian just smirked as his gaze flicked between the two of them.

  Such were the delights and drawbacks of living with one’s employer. At least the mechanical servants didn’t have enough artificial intelligence to comprehend abashed desire.

  As Delia had absently flipped the pages of a novel in her bed that night, a restlessness had descended. She needed something more than just her hand. Sebastian might consent to a fuck, but he was probably either down at his regular pub getting shagged in the loo, or in the Professor’s bedroom getting shagged by him.

  Then, at that moment, a big smile had twisted her lips at a wicked thought. Professor Ockham’s flawed genius had invented something better than a spanking machine. It took a devious mind like hers to reckon the wondrous contraption could work as a clit-slapper. She was anxious and willing to find out.

  Delia slid into the laboratory and closed the door quietly behind her. In the darkness she could only make out the shadowed form of the spanking machine and the trestle. The trestle
would need to be repositioned for it to work as she intended. She grinned as she fished in her pocket for flint and steel to light her oil lamp.

  A flash of lamplight danced in the transom window above Sebastian’s office. So he wasn’t out getting rogered in a loo.

  Perhaps he and the Professor were in the office? She had only ever seen them cuddle and kiss, and that was in the dim light of their private theatre while the three took in a magic lantern show. She would love to see a great deal more.

  She tiptoed to the office door and knelt down before the keyhole.

  Sebastian was alone. And naked. With a machine. A machine with what looked like a penis.

  Delia gasped.

  The door flew open. She was face-to-prick with Sebastian.

  He grabbed her by the shirt, hauled her inside, and closed and locked the door.

  He wagged a finger in her face, his lithe body arcing over her. “If you’re going to spy on me, Deel, be quiet about it.”

  “I wasn’t spying!” She pursed her lips. “All right, I was, but not really.” She pressed her palms against the hard muscles of his hairless chest. “I wanted to play with the spanking machine and I saw your light and I thought you and the Professor were, you know - ”

  “In flagrante delicto?”

  She gaped at him, but there was that boyish smirk again, marring his otherwise attractive face. “Yes. And I’m sorry.” She looked away, her gaze falling to his sleek shoulders. “I know that’s none of my business.” His perfect athleticism was quite distracting.

  He shook his head, his flaxen hair swinging against his jaw. “I can’t wait until the two of you bonk your brains out. The sexual tension is simply vexing.”

  She gaped wider. “Sebbie!”

  He chuckled and went to his machine.

  “What are you working on?”

  “A fucking machine.”

  An erect phallus of buff calfskin leather was mounted on a piston jutting forth from a clear glass box. Inside the box was a diminutive engine, its complex workings made up of a bicycle chain, sprockets, and gears to operate the piston. The box sat above a boiler with copper pipes feeding steam to drive the mechanism. In front of it all was a padded bench, on either side of which hung leather slings.

  “Obviously.”

  Sebastian glowered at her. “And Edward doesn’t know, so you can’t tell him.”

  “Like I’m going to talk to him about something like this.”

  “Hmm, I suppose not.” His expression softened. “But now you’re here, you can help me.”

  “Oh?” She so needed a fuck.

  “I was going to regulate the speed myself.” He adjusted a knob at the base of the box. “But you can do it instead and I can just lie back and enjoy.” He grabbed a bottle of cooking oil and poured out a handful of the liquid.

  So she wasn’t going to have her fun. “Not what I had in mind for tonight.”

  He slathered the oil on his anus. “One day I’ll reciprocate the favour.” Laying down on his back, he threaded his legs through the leather slings. “Hand me that pillow over there.” He pointed to a dingy velveteen pillow on the fainting couch shoved in the corner of his office.

  Delia returned with the pillow, then curved her fingers around the thick phallus. “So, Sebbie, who was the model?”

  Sebastian curled his mouth puckishly and quirked a brow. “You mean, is that Professor Ockham?”

  She flushed.

  “No. It’s not.” He grinned as he tucked the pillow under himself pushing his arse up. “I used myself. Impressive isn’t it?”

  “And you’re going to fuck yourself with it? Isn’t that like incest or something?”

  Sebastian guffawed. “Rather, a new height in masturbatory adventures.” He adjusted himself on the bench.

  “Aren’t you usually on all fours for this sort of thing?”

  He winked. “Edward likes this position.”

  She flushed.

  “And don’t be jealous. He’s called me ‘Delia’ more than once.”

  Her heart clenched in hopeful agony. She stared at him, slack-jawed. “You never told me that.”

  “I’m telling you now, Deel. You really need to stop playing the coy maiden and just get on with it.” He smirked again. “Can you oil up my toy, please?”

  She poured oil in her palm then proceeded to coat the buttery soft leather of the erect phallus. Like a man’s flesh, it warmed under her touch. Sebastian’s cock stiffened as he watched her steady strokes.

  He held up his hand. “I think that’s enough.” He slid his body down the bench until the head of the phallus was embedded in his arsehole. “Now flip that switch at the base of the glass box.”

  Delia did as instructed. The phallus moved back and forth at a sluggish pace, a dull clang keeping beat to its movement.

  Sebastian sighed a groan. “The dial next to the switch. Move it up one notch.”

  She did so. The chain jumped to a smaller sprocket. The phallus gained momentum, but only slightly.

  “Ahh, yes. That’s nice.” He hummed a moan and grabbed his own half-hard prick. “Two more notches.”

  The phallus increased its tempo to that of a languid Lothario.

  “More.”

  Delia moved the dial two additional notches. The machine worked like a slightly more determined lover. Sebastian pumped his prick to the same rhythm.

  “Again.”

  Two more notches and the machine worked like a man needing to come.

  Sebastian closed his eyes as he exhaled in satisfaction. “That’s it. That’s perfect.” He smiled.

  Delia stared at the sensual scene wanting so much to lift her skirt and slide her fingers through her slick and swollen sex. Instead she clasped Sebastian’s cock with her oiled hand and slowly fisted the shaft.

  He murmured an appreciative oath, his brow wrenched in carnal delirium as he stared at her. “Fuck me, Deel.” His blue eyes flashed pleadingly.

  Delia tore off her knickers and tossed her leg over the bench to straddle him. She grabbed his prick, steadying it against the jerking thrusts of the machine, and guided it into her cunt.

  Both sighed at once.

  “I’ve needed a shag so badly, Seb.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He cupped her cheeks. “Kiss me. Think of him.”

  She closed her eyes as their mouths joined and their tongues tangled. The measured ca-chunk of the mechanized thrusts lulled her into a fantasy of riding Edward’s exquisite cock. She picked up the pace, moving with a syncopated rhythm to the grinding gears as she dropped her head to nuzzle the masculine shoulder under her. The beat of his heart, the puff of his breath echoed the sensual cadence.

  He pushed her gently. “Off, Deel,” he murmured, “I’m gonna spend.”

  “It’s all right.” She kissed the hollow of his shoulder. “I’ve put in my good luck pessary.”

  He chuckled. “I guess it worked.”

  She tucked her head into the crook of his neck inhaling the virile arousal, letting it seduce her into the realm of erotic illusion. She slammed down on the cock inside her, willing her lover to come for her, in her, because of her, her own climax building, her cunt tightening in anticipation of orgiastic release. He whispered her name, murmuring encouragements as he massaged her clit.

  “Oh, Edward!” She gripped with all her might, flooding the juncture of their bodies.

  “Crikey!” Sebastian jerked his orgasm in juddering spurts, hampered by the connection with the phallus and his legs in the slings. He shoved her. “Deel, you gotta turn off the machine.”

  “What, no afterglow?” The machine squeaked its rhythm.

  “I mean it,” he gulped.

  Delia laughed as she pulled away from Sebastian and the bench. Come trickled do
wn her inner thighs as she switched off the machine.

  “So was it a success?”

  Sebastian extracted himself clumsily. “Of sorts.” He scowled at her. “Now I know there ought to be a safety switch on the bench in the event one has an uncooperative lover.” He grabbed a towel from his work bench. “Geez, you’re a real soaker.” He dabbed at his crotch.

  She pull on her knickers. “Yeah, I am sometimes.” She patted his cheek. “But only when I get very, very excited.” She pecked his lips.

  Sebastian grinned. “Be gentle with him. He’s not used to the likes of you.”

  She flashed a smile back. “Thanks, Seb.” Perhaps it was time Professor Ockham got used to the likes of her.

  ***

  Edward had locked himself away in his study for the better part of the day, even excusing himself from supper. He needed to get the spanking machine right, needed to redraw the plans. There was a lot of money at stake, and they could really use the money.

  That’s what he told himself, anyway. Deep down inside he knew he had to stay away from Miss Bennett. Thoughts of her shapely arse and dripping cunt plagued him relentlessly.

  He named the new measure of force produced by the double-spank paddles a “deel”, despite knowing Sebastian would mock him for it then taunt him with stories of his own escapades with their delightful colleague. Just like he had that very morning. After sucking Edward’s cock, Sebastian had casually let it slip that he had indulged in an unexpected romp with Miss Bennett the night before.

  “But she really needs a proper suitor, Edward,” he had said. “Someone who’ll make her happy. Someone who’ll keep her satisfied.”

  Edward was certain he could be that man.

  Except at that moment he needed to avoid her so he could gather his courage.

  It was almost midnight when he opened the study door and poked his head into the hallway, glancing around for signs of life. The dark quiet was disturbed only slightly by the hiss of dimmed gaslights and the whirr of a mechanical servant, its bell-shaped skirt swaying gently as it rolled down the corridor.

  Clearly, Sebastian wasn’t home yet from the pub. Miss Bennett was most likely reading a scandalous novel in her bedroom. A romance, maybe, while she was scantily clad -