Bait In the Trap

by Monica Belle

  TEASING THE DEVIL

  Part Two: The Bait in the Trap

  Monica Belle

  Published by Xcite Books Ltd – 2011

  ISBN 9781908192752

  Copyright © Monica Belle 2011

  The right of Monica Belleto be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by herin accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY

  The storycontained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Winner of Jade Erotic Awards:

  Erotic Fiction Publisher 2010

  "Xcite has delighted its readers with a wealth of superb titles and first class storytelling. Their titles have far outstripped the others for both quality of the product and sensual erotic content."

  Chapter One

  IT ONLY TOOK JULIAN d’Alveda and me a few days to prepare Candle Street Hall for a visit from the Devil. All the equipment we needed was already there, among the gear needed for the estate, except the hoof-shaped boots that were essential to the plan. Those Julian purchased from an online company dedicated to providing kinky footwear for transvestites, because we needed the right shape but nothing made for women would fit. They were black leather and knee length, with zips to do them up, easy to get on and off. I knocked off the heels and fixed my carefully carved hooves to the soles, with brilliant results.

  Not only did Julian leave footprints like those of an impossibly large goat walking on its hind legs, but he looked amazing. He was over six foot anyway, but with the boots on he was nearer seven and had to walk with a long, open stride, more animal than human. Watching him come towards me through the woods in the evening gloom was eerie and, if I hadn’t known it was him, I’d have run – and kept running until I was in Norwich, or preferably London. As it was he made me feel small and vulnerable, but in a very sexy way, so much so that I insisted he take me then and there, with me kneeling in one of the windows of the folly with my bottom pushed out at the right height for him to enter me. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it felt great, with my head full of images of him stalking me through the woods, catching me and fucking me to leave me pregnant with the Devil’s child.

  I told him what I’d been thinking about afterwards, which had him laughing and grinning, well pleased both with our work and with me. That night I told him more, admitting to my fantasies about being caught by Vanessa, if not the juicy details. To my surprise and delight it turned him on as much as it did me, only without the guilt. I got taken again, this time hard and fast, because I’d got him so turned on he couldn’t hold back. I had hoped he’d take his time and be rude with me, but there was still a happy smile on my face as I drifted towards sleep with his arms still around me.

  We’d tried to leave some hoof prints, but it hadn’t rained in over a week and the ground was too hard to take a good impression. All we had were a few scuff marks among the leaves on the path, too faint to be spotted by accident. We needed a wet night, and the right group of people not too long after, leaving both of us keyed up and expectant as one dry, sunny day followed on the heels of the next.

  Everything else was perfect. I’d been drunk and horny when I’d told him about Vanessa, but even then I’d been worried he think I was unfaithful, or a slut. His reaction had surprised and delighted me, making our relationship more open, and he’d taken to talking dirty to me during sex, describing how I looked in whatever rude position he’d put me in and what would be showing to Vanessa if she caught us. Once he went further still, describing what Vanessa would do to me, but it was only to lick her, which gave me a lovely orgasm but fell far short of the filthy details I’d been imagining.

  The weekend was busier than any other I’d known, with both Julian and I struggling to cope with two full coachloads of tourists, most of whom were German. They left us exhausted, and once the last of them had gone we fell into what had become a regular evening routine more gratefully than ever, drinking cold white wine at the kitchen table while we prepared dinner together. A second bottle followed the first, leaving me feeling mellow and ready for bed. It was still light, but we went up anyway, sharing the shower and drying off together before tumbling onto Julian’s bed. I was face down, and he began to massage my neck with his fingertips, something I could never resist.

  He knew I was tired and he took his time, not saying a word as he soothed the muscles of my neck and shoulders, moving lower only when I’d begun to sigh with contentment. Even then he concentrated on my legs and back, bringing my pleasure very slowly higher until, at last, I wanted more than he was giving and had begun to push up my hips. Seeing how excited I was, he gave a soft chuckle.

  ‘Be patient, Chloe.’

  As he spoke he slapped my bottom, not hard, but that didn’t matter. That single gentle pat brought my fantasy of being spanked back, more urgent than ever, and I was too drunk and too horny not to respond.

  ‘Go on then.’

  ‘Go on what?’

  ‘What you just did. Do it again, if you like.’

  He did, no harder than before, then moved back to massaging my back. I gave him an encouraging wiggle but he ignored me and, with that, I gave in to my need.

  ‘Spank me, Julian.’

  My words were a whisper, my voice full of embarrassment, which grew sharper as he replied.

  ‘Spank you? What, as if you’ve been a naughty girl?’

  ‘Yes. Please, Julian, spank me, spank my bottom, just as if I’ve been a naughty girl.’

  He gave a soft chuckle and his hand moved down to touch me where I wanted, and to spank me, stroking and squeezing at my cheeks, giving me a sudden, sharp smack, stroking and squeezing again, smacking again. Now it was hard enough to make my skin tingle, a lovely sensation anyway but so much better for the thoughts in my head, the way he’d called me a naughty girl, and how what he was doing might become a punishment or be done to humiliate me in front of Vanessa, or by Vanessa. Now I could tell him.

  ‘I ... this is what Vanessa should have done to me when she caught us. She should have smacked my bottom for me ... Spanked me, in front of you.’

  ‘I wish she had.’

  ‘So do I, on my bare bottom with my knickers in my mouth.’

  ‘With your knickers in your mouth?’

  ‘Yes, to shut me up, the way you did with Amanda when you had her in the chapel. She got spanked, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I suppose they did it to her bare?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Probably.’

  My response was a low moan and to lift my bottom.

  ‘Go on, harder Julian – really spank me.’

  ‘You deserve it, that’s for sure! Bad girl!’

  I’d stuck my bottom right up, meeting the now firm swats of his hand. It stung, a lot, but I didn’t mind, more than happy to cope with the hot, sharp pain for the knowledge that I was being spanked, by Julian, and not only was he enjoying my bum but he obviously found my wriggles and gasps both sexy and amusing. That alone would have been enough to come over, but he carried on talking.

  ‘Maybe I should call Vanessa and let her listen to the way you squeal and the sound of the smacks?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘No? I’m sure she’d like to listen to your spanking. She’d probably come over, if I asked.’

  ‘No ... no, Julian, but don’t stop, and don’
t stop talking.’

  He laughed and carried on.

  ‘I really think I should. She’d love to watch. Maybe she’d even help – help me to spank your naughty bottom, Chloe, to spank your naughty bottom!’

  As he spoke he delivered one hard smack with each of the final words, making me cry out in my pain, which seemed to turn him on even more. He grabbed me by the waist, ignoring my squeak of surprise as he hauled me across his knee, now in proper spanking position with my head hung down and bottom stuck up in the air. Again he set to work, harder still, to set my legs kicking up and down and my hair flying as he spanked me, all the while telling me what a naughty girl I was and threatening to call Vanessa and have her join in. It hurt like anything, taking me completely out of myself, to a place where I could no longer control my body, but when he finally stopped I was instantly begging for more.

  ‘Carry on, please, Julian ... spank me.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I haven’t finished with you, not by a long way.’

  I craned around, wondering what he was doing, just in time to see him pick up the black cotton knickers I’d been wearing under my dress. It was obvious where they were going and, as he balled them up in his fist, I’d began to sob, but my mouth was already open as he pushed them at my face. In they went, my discarded knickers crammed into my mouth to gag me and add to my already burning humiliation as Julian went back to spanking my bum.

  Now I was lost, completely, in the nude with my own knickers in my mouth as a gag, my bottom ablaze and every rude detail of my sex and bum on show, and, as he spanked, telling me how he’d like to see it done by another woman. I had to come; there was no choice. Utterly brazen, I cocked my thighs wide over Julian’s leg to rub my pussy on the hard muscle of his thigh.

  ‘You dirty little bitch! You’re not joking you need to be spanked. Look at yourself, Chloe!’

  I couldn’t see, but I could imagine, my body bucking up and down as I masturbated on his leg, my bottom bouncing to the spanks and already cherry red, my cheeks wide to show off my sopping pussy and the tight dimple of my bumhole, all on show, all available for him to do with as he pleased. With that thought I came, utterly uninhibited as I brought myself off on his thigh, and all the while with his hand slapping at my bottom, as hard and as fast as he could.

  When I woke up the next morning I felt awful for what I’d done, betraying every other woman on the planet by letting a man beat me – andgetting off on it and behaving in a way I’d never thought possible to any girl who hadn’t been coerced. Yet I had done it, and there was no denying I’d enjoyed it – the pain and humiliation both. What saved me from my ill feelings was Julian, who was not merely happy about my behaviour but delighted, and more loving than he had ever been before. He also realised that I was down, and guessed why, which led to a long explanation about how my reaction came from social pressures that had no real meaning. To him I had enjoyed myself and we had harmed nobody, so it had to be all right. His argument made sense, and I wanted to accept what he was saying, but I was left with a sense of having changed, that by giving in to my darker fantasies I had made myself something of an outcast. After all, it wasn’t something I was going to admit to my friends, for all that I’d broadcast the fact that I was going out with Julian to pretty much every single person who knew me. I also had a sore bottom, which I told myself I deserved. Therefore I’d been punished for what I’d done, and that helped to make me feel better, although Julian couldn’t understand my logic.

  Monday was much more relaxed, with only a moderate-sized group, which Julian took while I did the weekly shop. That meant taking a bus to the nearest supermarket, over five miles away, and by the time I got back the last of the visitors were leaving. Julian was at the gate, speaking to a very earnest couple who continued to converse together in low voices as they walked away. It was hotter than ever, also close and humid, and I was very glad when Julian kissed me and took hold of the bags of shopping as I reached the gates. As he took the weight he favoured me with his wry grin and a glance directed at the departing couple.

  ‘Do you see those two? The woman says she’s a medium. Apparently she could hear Lady Howard’s voice as we stood in the hall.’

  ‘Oh yes, and what did Lady Howard have to say?’

  ‘That the house was cursed and we were fools to stay here.’

  ‘Did they find the folly?’

  ‘No. They were too interested in talking to me and explaining about their occult experiences.’

  ‘That’s a shame.’

  ‘Yes, they might have been good, although she seemed determined to think of me as an innocent caught up in something I don’t understand.’

  ‘Innocent you are not.’

  ‘That’s more the attitude I want. Are you feeling better about last night?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. I understand what you were saying, at least, but I can’t help feeling a bit dirty.’

  ‘But it was your fantasy, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so, but that makes me feel dirty too! Anyway, you put the fantasy into my head by telling me Amanda got it after you had her in the chapel.’

  ‘So it’s all my fault, and what happened to Amanda too?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Then blame me, the evil Julian d’Alveda, and next time you get it, you needn’t feel bad.’

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him there wasn’t going to be a next time. Part of me wanted to – the decent, sensible part – but it would have been a lie. He’d put the idea into my head, and I knew from experience that there would be no getting rid of it. Just as I’d once thought it disgusting and unacceptably subservient to suck a man’s cock, now I loved it and didn’t even feel guilty. Enjoying having my bottom spanked was more subservient by far, but I knew I’d let it happen again. Not that I was likely to have very much choice, if the way Julian was looking at me was anything to go by.

  ‘Not tonight, Julian, please. I’m still sore!’

  He just laughed and we carried on down the drive. Indoors we fell straight into our routine, sharing a bottle of wine as we made and ate our dinner. Just to be with him was arousing, and just as I’d expected the last of my bad feelings vanished in anticipation of sex, until I was regretting being sore and would have let him put me over his knee if he’d wanted to. He was more reserved, but he did make me kneel for him once we were upstairs, and for once paid as much attention to my bottom as he did to my breasts. The night before I’d gone down on my knees for him once he’d finished with me, the way I usually did when I’d come first. This time he made me stay in position, kneeling with my bottom lifted and everything on show to him as he finished off over my cheeks. Something had definitely changed and, as I cuddled into him, my head was full of bittersweet thoughts of a future that involved regular spankings, only to have my musings interrupted by the gentle patter of droplets on the window. It had begun to rain.

  We did it first thing the next morning. The storm had lasted most of the night, but we woke to bright sunshine and the promise of a day both hot and dry enough to leave the ground baked hard once more. We’d slept naked with the covers off, and I awoke to a slap on my bottom and Julian offering me a black coffee. He was ready to go, his cock swollen with morning blood and his boots already on, a strange sight to wake to when all he needed was fur on his lower limbs rather than leather and he’d have made a very good satyr, and a very horny one. I told him he looked like Mr Tumnus in an effort to get him back for my rude awakening and earned myself another slap on my bottom. My request that he spank me had obviously struck a chord.

  It was barely seven o’clock when we went outdoors, Julian still stark naked but for his hoof boots, myself in a bathrobe. He was careful, at first, keeping to the tarmac drive until he was well away from the house, then looping round to the woods and the folly. Starting again from the hard interior of the folly, he made it seem as if he’d come from there first, circled the entire house and then returned to the folly.
Only then did a much more wicked idea occur to him.

  I’d gone down the folly path, creating the impression of a barefoot, midnight visitor, which we’d intended to reinforce with a set of his own ordinary boot prints. Instead he had me run from the folly as fast as I could, with him stalking behind, his strides longer, the impressions deeper, as if he’d chased me. Then it was down on my knees in the mud at the edge of the wood, as if I’d been caught before I could reach the house and used for sex by the creature I’d summoned.

  All that was carefully faked, but there was nothing fake about the way he took me, first squatting over my chest to make me suck his cock until he was fully hard, before putting me back on my knees and taking me from behind. He was really rough about it, his hard belly slapping against my bottom, and punctuated by the occasional smack to my cheeks or climbing onto my back to hold my breasts as he fucked me. I was left breathless and eager by the time he’d finished, pulling out to come over my bottom as he had the night before. He was kind though, burying his face between my cheeks and licking from behind, then rolling me over once more and bringing me to ecstasy under his tongue. No man had ever licked me between my cheeks before, and it was exquisite, but in my head it was me doing the licking and Vanessa on her knees to present her perfect little bottom to my tongue.

  By the time Julian had finished with me I was sore and wet with dew, more than ready for a shower and my breakfast. Yet I felt no more than a twinge of guilt for my dirty fantasy as I came. After all, I’d allowed myself to be spanked, so it was hard to feel bad about a mere fantasy, however rude. I was also involved in something deliciously mischievous, and thoroughly enjoying myself. Perhaps it was time to admit that at heart I was the bad girl Julian so obviously wanted?

  If our morning excursion had tired me out, then he seemed to have a limitless supply of energy. Telling me to crawl a little way towards the house then get up and walk slowly to the yard, he returned to the folly in a proud, high stepping strut. Once indoors I went to the shower, watching as he returned, now barefoot, then put on his normal boots and returned to the folly, carefully avoiding the hoof tracks on his way but deliberately treading on them when he came back. By the time I had breakfast ready he’d finished, a masterpiece of deception so inventive and elaborate that it deserved to be called art. All we needed was an audience.