Ultimate Sins

by Jean Roberta

  He came straight over, lowered his face to my pussy and proceeded to lick me.

  ‘You can do better than that,’ she said, flicking his back.

  He fell into my pussy, devouring it. It was the most fantastic licking I’ve ever had. His tongue was wild, licking up and down the folds, in and out of my pussy and when his fingers pulled the hood away from my clitoris I thought I would faint.

  I was looking forward to his tongue doing the lambada on my clit, but he stood back, still keeping it visible and Marcia approached the table. She lowered her mouth towards me, her tongue flickering out like a snake, as she lightly played with my clit.

  I was thrilled. Every nerve in my body seemed to be focused on my clit. The tip of her tongue teased me relentlessly. I tried to tilt my pelvis higher, I needed more pressure from her tongue but then she stopped all together.

  ‘You like that, do you?’ she asked.

  She brought her red painted mouth to mine and now her tongue snaked its way in between my teeth. My scent was all over her and I latched onto her lips, my tongue exploring the inside of her mouth.

  She pulled away from me. I didn’t like to be teased. I wanted some action. My breasts were heaving as her mouth kissed my nipples. It was as though a feather was being fluttered along them. She pulled away and her warm breath was replaced with her teeth as she bit into the nipple to stretch it out.

  I screamed in pain, and she laughed as she began to suck. Then John was on the other nipple attacking it in the same fashion as she did. It didn’t take long before the pain turned into exquisite pleasure.

  ‘Oh, yes, please don’t stop,’ I begged. ‘Please don’t stop.’

  She began to pick the rose petals off my body with her teeth, dropping them in between my legs. On and on she went until she cleaned my body of them. Looking down I noticed stains from the petals where they’d touched my fevered skin.

  She gave John a quick flick on his thigh. ‘Up on that table. Assume the position over her mouth. I want to see how well this bitch can suck your cock.’

  He jumped up straddling me and eagerly pushed his cock into my mouth. I gobbled at it hungrily, sucking, slurping, eager to please them both. He began to pump my mouth and I gagged as his cock grew to a new proportion.

  Then I gagged and nearly choked as a hot mouth attacked my pussy. I was nearly delirious as I bucked into her mouth. I could hardly breathe, the combination of her mouth and his cock causing me to spasm into her mouth.

  ‘Get over here,’ she said, smacking John with her hand. ‘Fuck this bitch and fuck her well.’

  She stood back as John entered me. He fucked me like a wild man. His cock slapping in and out. His hands were underneath my bum tilting me forwards so he could get better access. My legs screamed from the pain of the twine but I didn’t care.

  I peaked again, screaming out with passion, my body saturated with sweat. I tried to get him to withdraw, I couldn’t stand any more. On and on he fucked, driving me out of my mind. Finally he stopped, coming all over my stomach.

  Marcia lapped it up like a cat at her cream. She came to me with his come smeared over her face.

  ‘Lick it off,’ she demanded.

  I did. My tongue darting into her mouth to taste her. She began to moan and out of the corner of my eye, I saw John, on the floor between her legs licking her pussy.

  ‘That’s not bad, but let’s see what your tongue can do for me,’ she said, climbing up on the table and standing astride my head. I could see straight up her leather skirt and she was wearing no panties.

  She lowered herself over my mouth and I was surprised to see such an unruly bush of pubic hair. It spread out towards her hips and covered the lips of her pussy. I had trouble getting my tongue to find its target. She practically suffocated me as I drove her wild.

  John was at my pussy. He’d been licking and sucking and now I felt some probing and a hard object being inserted. I assumed it was the handle of the whip.

  ‘Please,’ I begged. ‘Untie my legs and arms so I can make love to you more easily.’

  ‘I call the shots here, not you. Shut up and keep licking.’

  Her clit kept hitting my nose and I could feel it hardening. She raised herself until her clit was being rubbed on the bridge of my nose. She rode my nose like a woman possessed, coming in a rush, her juices dribbling down into my open mouth.

  John had got his second wind and by the look of his cock I knew this wasn’t over yet. He helped Marcia down and untied my arms and legs. Now it was his turn to lie on the workbench. I crawl up his body and took his cock deep into my mouth and from the side of my vision I saw Marcia approaching wearing a dildo.

  I heard the scraping of a chair as she dragged it over to us. My arse was twitching in the air and a ripple of pleasure spread throughout my body as Marcia spread my cheeks. Her tongue was licking at my hole. Then she was at my pussy licking and slurping working her mouth up to my hole. God, it was fabulous. The dildo was knocking to come in. I’d never had it up the arse and tensed for a moment but it slipped in easily.

  Grabbing John’s cock, I pumped up and down the shaft wildly, engrossed with his knob as she began to fuck my arse. Pre-come was oozing from his slit and I licked it up lovingly, teasing him as my tongue snaked crazily over his engorged cock.

  I could hardly hang onto him, my mind consumed with her fucking my arse. She pulled it out, flicking my cheeks with the whip, not hard, just enough of a sting to make it pleasurable.

  ‘Up on his cock,’ she demanded.

  I stood up on the bench, only to lower myself down slowly over his cock. With my knees straddling him, she pushed me down towards his chest, giving herself a perfect view of my hole. Again she probed and as it was well lubed, she inched it in and began to fuck me in rhythm with John. With the two of them working on me, it took me no time to come again and again.

  The three of us must have looked a picture up there on the workbench. Sucking, fucking and licking. It went on for hours before we finally stopped. With shaking legs I got dressed and left the premises promising to return the next Friday night.

  It has now become our weekly night of fun. If ever you’re going past the florists and the blinds are drawn but the lights are still on, and you hear some moaning and the occasional flick of a whip, you’ll know what we’re up to in there. And sometimes we even leave the side window open, so feel free to come and watch. Perhaps one day we’ll allow you to join us.

  A Lesson For Victoria

  by Angela Meadows

  My carriage jolted and lurched up the rough, alpine track making me uncomfortable as well as angry. I didn’t want to leave home but I did understand my widowed father’s reasons. Finding me in the arms of his stable boy was not what he expected of his ‘little girl’. My lips still tingled with the memory of Bill’s kiss and my nipples hardened at the thought of his hand pressed against them with just a thin layer of cotton in between. No, the real reason I was so upset was finding that the Venice School for Young Ladies, as father had called it, was miles from the city of canals – and up a mountain.

  The sun was sinking behind the peaks at the end of a late summer’s day as we drew up to a large, granite house with the distinctive steep roof of the Alps. The carriage door was opened immediately and my gaze fell upon a young man. He was wearing traditional Tyrolean leather shorts and his bare knees and strong thighs impressed me. It seemed that a swelling was forming in the tight leather at his crotch. I looked upwards past the loose cotton shirt, and found the blue eyes of the blond, smooth-faced young man looking at me intensely. He smiled, but it did not seem a smile of welcome, more one of anticipation. He helped me step down from the carriage. His firm grip on my wrist seemed to be a signal of possession as he guided me up the steps to a heavy, wooden door. He returned to the coach to retrieve my trunk. The door was opened by another handsome young man, similarly dressed but with black hair and brown eyes. He also gave me a thorough examination as he invited me to enter.

  I
stepped into a square hall carpeted with an old but thick Turkish carpet. A short, grey-haired lady emerged from a side room and advanced towards me.

  “Ah, you have arrived at last.” She spoke English with a French accent. “It is Victoria, is it not?”

  I nodded.

  “Named after your dear Queen, I imagine.”

  I nodded again.

  “Come, take off your cloak and join the rest of the girls in the drawing room.”

  I felt the doorman remove my cloak from my shoulders. His hands brushed my neck gently and a spark of electricity travelled down my back. The little French lady was scurrying back to the room from which she had come so I hurried after her.

  I entered a large, tall room with a window at one end. The setting sun was filling the room with light that reflected off the three huge mirrors that went from floor to ceiling on the other three sides of the room. Apart from cupboards in each corner, the room was quite bare of furniture. There was a large, wide couch in the centre of the room almost the size of a double bed and covered with furs. Some feet away from the couch was a line of six high-backed chairs. Five of the chairs were occupied by young ladies of a similar age to me. They all turned their heads to look at me but there was no sign of emotion on their faces. No doubt they were, like me, new to the school and wondering what was going to happen.

  “Sit down, Victoria.” The little French woman pointed to the empty chair. “The Principal is waiting.”

  I took my place and noted that the shape of the seat and the hard straight back forced me to sit upright. I had barely adjusted my posture when a tall woman entered. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties. She wore a green silk dress buttoned up to the neck and had cascading locks of fair hair. The other girls leapt to their feet and I struggled to emulate them.

  “Good evening, girls. Please sit.” We sat down as one. “Welcome to the Venus School for Young Ladies.” Did she really say Venus, I thought, or had she said Venice in a strange way? “I am Madam Thackeray, your headmistress. You have already met Madame Hulot, my assistant.” She smiled and looked at each one of us girls in turn. “Here you will learn the knowledge and skills that will enable you to take your place in society as the wives of gentlemen. You will learn cuisine; you will study arts and music; you will discover the fashions of the day; you will practise the art of conversation and you will be taught how to run a household. These studies will occupy your days. In the evenings, tuition will turn to the art of attracting husband and how to satisfy him. Lessons will start shortly but first you will be shown to your rooms.”

  Madam Thackeray turned to Madame Hulot who opened the door. Six elegant young ladies entered the room. Each wore identical silk evening gowns in the fashionable new mauve dye. I gasped at the dresses as they left the girls’ shoulders completely bare and revealed considerable décolletage. Their waists were extremely narrow and the skirts flared out. The six girls lined up in front of us.

  “These are our senior girls,” Madam continued. “They have a year of experience of our ways and will help you in your studies. They will now show you to your rooms.” The girl facing me stepped forward, smiled broadly and held out her right hand.

  “Hello, I’m your mentor. Come with me.” She hooked her arm around my left elbow and guided me back into the hall and up a wide stairway. On the second floor we entered a landing with doors on either side. My guide pushed on one door and we entered a comfortably-sized bedroom.

  “Here we are, this is our room.”

  It seemed that we were to share a room and a bed, as there was just one ample double bed to be seen. I was surprised, but having shared a bed with a cousin I was not upset by the prospect. My mentor sat on the bed, scooping up the hoops and silk of her dress. “I’m Beatrice, who are you?”

  “My name is Victoria,” I replied.

  “Named after the Queen, were you?”

  I nodded resignedly.

  “I expect you are hungry after your journey. You were rather late so missed dinner but a cold buffet has been prepared for you.” She indicated a tray of bread, cold meats and cheese on a side-table. The bath is also ready for you, I’m sure you need one after your journey. I will return to help you dress in your school evening wear.”

  Having satisfied my hunger, I was enjoying a lazy, hot bath when the bathroom door opened and Beatrice reappeared. She looked somewhat flustered.

  “Good heavens, Victoria, what are you still doing there? You should be getting ready or you will be late.” I suddenly remembered that I wasn’t on holiday but at a school. I was reluctant to get out of the bath and expose my naked body while Beatrice stood in the doorway glaring at me. “Come on, Victoria. Don’t be prudish. I’ll help you dry yourself.”

  She entered the room, picked up the bath towel and carried it towards the bath. I realised that she wasn’t going to leave me alone so I made the decision to stand up and let her see me unclothed. The water cascaded off me. Beatrice examined me closely and I began to blush. Then she nodded with approval and I blushed some more.

  “How old are you, Victoria?”

  “Sixteen; seventeen in November.”

  “You look quite mature for your age. Your breasts are well-formed and firm and your hips are broad but your stomach is suitably flat. The men will take a fancy to you, I’m sure.”

  I wasn’t sure that I liked this appraisal which made me seem like one of my father’s horses but the mention of men made me think of Bill. He had paid my body compliments – the little that he saw of it.

  Beatrice wrapped the towel around me and rubbed me vigorously so that I was soon dry. She tossed the towel to the floor and pulled me by the hand back into our bedroom. Clothes had been laid out on the bed, I presumed for me, but I was surprised at what they consisted of. There was a white satin corset – I’d never worn one before. Beatrice wrapped it around me and began to tighten the laces. I groaned and moaned at the unfamiliar constriction.

  “Why do I have to wear this?” I gasped.

  “Because it is part of the school uniform and because men like the figure it produces.”

  I was standing in front of a mirror and noticed that I certainly had more shape. My breasts were pushed together and upwards so that they rested on the top of the garment, my nipples on show. The narrowing of my waist also made my buttocks appear larger and more rounded than they usually did. Beatrice looked at my image and then at me. Her eyes descended and came to rest at my exposed mount of Venus. She passed the palm of her hand over my tuft of hair. There was a tingle inside that was unfamiliar. “You have quite a bush down there, haven’t you.”

  “I have?”

  “Yes, we need to trim that. Men don’t like too much hair, you know.” She tugged my underarm hair. “This will have to go too; it’s very unsightly. Still, no time now.”

  She passed me a pair of white silk knickers which barely covered my bottom and, having made me sit on the bed, pulled white silk stockings up my legs and fastened the tops to clips at the bottom of the corset. She presented me with a pair of white satin slippers. As I put them on my feet she brought a long gossamer thin gown trimmed in white fur. I put my arms through the wide sleeves. The garment did nothing to cover me, but instead seemed to form a frame for my corseted figure.

  “There; you are ready. No time for make-up, but that’s all part of the course anyway. Come, it’s time for your introductory lesson.” Beatrice tugged on my hand, and dragged me out on to the landing. We almost ran to the stairs, my gown flaring out behind me. I felt as if I had no clothes on at all and wondered what sort of school I had come to.

  We reached the room where we had first met. Beatrice pushed me in and departed. Like before, my classmates were already sitting there but this time they and I were identically dressed. I took my place in the uncomfortable chair at the end of the row and looked around me. The curtains had been drawn as night had now fallen. Many oil lamps had been lit so that the room was very light. A large candelabra dangled over the fur-strewn couch.


  “Ah, you have joined us at last, Victoria,” said Madame Hulot impatiently. “Punctuality is a virtue we foster here. Gentlemen do not like to be kept waiting.” She left and a few moments later Madam Thackeray swept in, beaming at each of us new girls.

  “Wonderful, girls. You now look as though you belong here and are ready for your instruction to begin. This evening you have nothing to do but watch. I want you to concentrate on what you will see and what I have to tell you. You will observe certain techniques which you will be studying during your time here so do not worry if you do not understand tonight.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about but as she moved to take a seat at the side of the room Beatrice reappeared and without looking at Madam Thackeray, or the six of us, she went to stand by the couch and looked at herself in the large glass mirror that was behind it. A moment later a young man entered the room. I recognised him as the blond servant who had helped me from the carriage. Now, however, he was wearing evening dress and looked exceptionally smart and aristocratic. I wondered about the meaning of his change of attire but things soon started to happen. He stepped up behind Beatrice, put a hand on her bare shoulder and spun her around. When she faced him he bent his neck and placed his lips on hers.

  “For the purpose of this evening’s demonstration, ladies, you must imagine that Eric is the man that Beatrice wishes to marry and that he desires her as his wife.” Madam’s words seemed to provide some explanation for the deep kissing that was going on. I presumed that we were watching a theatrical performance with Eric and Beatrice as the actors. However, the manner in which they clung to each other and inserted tongues into each other’s mouths did seem to go beyond the realms of acting that I was familiar with. Bill had only placed his lips on mine, but as I watched I began to wish that we too had pressed our mouths as close together.

  The pair parted and Eric began to undo the buttons on Beatrice’s gown which conveniently for him, were situated at the front.