by Josie Litton
“The doctor is due momentarily,” he said as she took her place in the stirrup chair. “He will determine what is wrong with you and see to fixing it.”
To his alarm, she showed barely a flicker of interest, instead lying back docilely with her gaze averted.
Shortly thereafter, London’s foremost expert in feminine disorders was shown in. He was an older man, white haired, and very capable with a no-nonsense manner. In a thrice, he whipped out a speculum from his bag, gave it a dab of lube, added rather more at Lord Adrian’s insistence, and inserted it. A little fiddling with the screw and the implement widened.
Bending down, the doctor peered, nodded several times and tsked.
“You did well to call me, my lord. Disorders of the female parts often spread to affect the mind. The Greeks called it hysteria, meaning excessive agitation of the womb.”
“Fascinating,” Lord Adrian murmured. The sight of his pet, her body invaded, stretched and exposed by the stainless steel implement was at once distracting and disturbing. When she winced, he caught himself doing the same.
“And therefore--?” he urged.
The doctor straightened, removed the implement, and said, “It is just as I suspected. She is overly engorged, the tissues swollen from excessive blood flow due to what I take to be an extended period of arousal. Left in this condition, she is likely to continue to decline.”
“That is unacceptable. What is the cure?”
“You have several options. Removal of the womb and accompanying organs used to be the preferred treatment but it is no longer recommended. Ceasing the arousal will have the desired effect. Alternatively, you could allow her release.”
The first was repellant, the second out of the question. That left the third.
“Orgasm will solve the problem?”
“Be confident of it.”
“How many times?” his lordship asked. Now that he had the answer, he was anxious to nail down the details.
The doctor stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It’s difficult to say. Whatever is necessary to expel the congestion in her female parts. The treatment may need to be repeated several times for her to benefit fully.”
Reassured that a resolution to the problem was in hand, Lord Adrian was eager to get on with it..
“Thank you, doctor,” he said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“Delighted to be of service, sir. If I might just add, on the matter of relieving her condition, given its severity, it would be best not to delay.”
“Be assured that I will not.”
Having seen the doctor out with barely contained impatience, Lord Adrian returned to his pet and considered what he had just learned. Perhaps he’d overdone it a bit what with the chastity belt and the rest. But at least the problem could be remedied. It was just as well that he’d gotten the doctor in when he had. A less responsible man, not as diligent about his pet’s well-being, might have waited longer with dire results.
In truth, after the ill-fated episode on the stone altar, his lordship was relieved to dispense with any ceremony surrounding this first orgasm business. The fact that it would occur of medical necessity overruled all else and freed him to continue post haste.
Accordingly, he reached into his pocket for the controller only to discover that it wasn’t there. With a moment’s thought, he realized that he must have left it in his dressing room. He could send a servant for it but it seemed quicker to go himself.
He had just located the little device when he had to take an urgent call from his tailor. That amounted to nothing really, a mix up over worsteds, but it delayed his return to the library further.
When he finally did return, he realized that his pet was still secured in the stirrup chair where she was squirming most delightfully.
Quickly, he considered his options. Given her state, bringing her to orgasm would require very little effort once the controller was turned off. A bit of fingering, a digit inserted into her vagina…
Or he could allow her to finally masturbate to release while he watched.
There were also little toys…But no, everything in him declared that her first time should be on his cock.
Without further delay, he stepped to the foot of the stirrup chair and straddled the bench below it just as he had imagined doing weeks ago. Having undone his trousers, he released his already formidable erection.
As she stared at him, he passed a hand slowly over her breasts, squeezing lightly, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples. Quivers of intense arousal rippled under her skin. She really was so extraordinarily responsive.
“Do you like that, pet? Does it feel good?”
On a breath of sound, she murmured, “Oh, yes.”
His cock jerked painfully. Only she had ever made him so hard. With a sense of desperation, he clung to what shreds of reason he still possessed, determined to remain in control.
“And this?” His hand drifted lower, over the flat plane of her stomach, below her navel, finding and gently parting her labia. Deliberately, he kept his touch light and strayed no further than her clit.
“How does this feel?” he asked as he circled the distended little bud. “Good?”
“Y-yes…”
Her hips rocked against his touch. She closed her eyes, her lips parted, her head falling back. A pulse beat in her slender neck, beginning to pound as he continued fingering her.
The sight of his pet on the edge of orgasm entranced him. After all the weeks of keeping her in that state, he should have been accustomed to it but this was different. This time, unlike all the others, nature would not be denied.
Without taking his gaze from her, he turned off the controller and thrust into her.
She gasped. Her eyes opened wide and locked with his. The pulse in her neck thundered. Her back arched. She cried out once, then again. The muscles of her cunt convulsed around him.
Instinctively, he reached out for her. Her hands was still fettered by the leather straps but she grasped his all the same. Their fingers intertwined as he rocked inside her, slow thrusts intended to prolong pleasure so exquisite he could not bear for it to end.
His pet in the throes of her release was easily the most exquisite sight he had ever beheld. He wanted it to go on and on forever.
Just as she began to come down from her peak, he undid the straps and lifted her from the chair. Cradled in his arms, he carried her across the room to a wine dark leather couch. Still rock hard, he sat down, his long legs spread, and set her on his lap.
Harshly, he murmured, “Move on me.”
At once, she straightened above him, grasping his shoulders, and began rubbing her dripping cunt all along the length of his shaft. He gasped, his hands tightening on her hips. As she swayed, little moans broke from her and her breath came in pants. She quickened the pace, chasing a second orgasm and he watched it come, the sheer beauty and strength of her sweeping over him.
In the aftermath, he rose, settling her on the couch briefly, and on tottering legs managed to throw off his clothes before lifting her onto him again.
A fevered frenzy seized them both. On the floor, against the wall, on a table, they coupled. His pet came again and again, screaming her pleasure, and he delighted in it. To bring her to such heights stoked his vaunted pride to unprecedented heights. Control was all well and good but driving a woman mad with ecstasy had a savor that cast every other sensation into dust.
At some point, someone left a tray of food outside the library doors. His lordship fetched it in himself and made certain that his pet ate. No more of that nonsense.
When she licked the remnants of a rich caper sauce from his fingers, he groaned and drew her to him once again.
She had made him insatiable. A stray thought for the danger of that went through his mind only to burn away before the fierce urgency of desire that would not be denied.
Chapter Seventeen
The next several days--and nights--were easily the most satisfying his lordship had ever known. He f
ucked, he found new and imaginative ways to make his pet come, he fucked again and all the while he reveled in the delights of her unbridled responsiveness.
From time to time, his reason reasserted itself enough, just barely, to drive him to seek a bit of solitude wherein he could remind himself that he was a rational man, entrusted by his king with weighty responsibilities, a man who read philosophy and conversed with other sensible men. In other words, he was not quite the phallus-driven beast his lust appeared to have transformed him into.
He also used those interludes to nap.
On the evening of the fourth day, he was awakened from his too-brief repose by an apologetic Jameson. The butler handed him a note.
Unfolding it, his lordship scanned the message therein with rapidly mounting disbelief.
“I know what you are planning,” the note said. “Come up to the main house if you want to see your pet again. Be prepared to negotiate. Bunny.”
“Is this a joke?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. I took the liberty of making inquiries before disturbing you. One of the footman noticed Lady Annabelle and several other ladies in the garden an hour or so ago. He’s relatively new and thought nothing in particular about it. She is, after all, your wife.”
“By cold, hard law, nothing more! You’re telling me that damn coven broke in here and stole my pet? That is not to be borne!”
“As you say, milord. I am most sorry. May I ask, what are you going to do?”
“Do? What can I do? The Devil only knows what that she-demon intends.”
As he spoke, the truth of those words sank its claws into him. Bunny was not without resources. There was at least an outside chance that she could spirit his pet away to somewhere he would never find her.
He had no choice; he would have to go. Never mind that the whole business was farcical. His bitch queen wife couldn’t possibly believe that after being drugged by her--through his cock, no less--he would show the slightest mercy. He’d march in, reclaim his pet, and wreak even worst vengeance for being put to such trouble. If she thought that having her income cut off and her assets frozen was all he was capable of doing, she was in for a rude awakening.
Without waiting to be admitted, he slammed into the main house with such force that the heavy oak door struck the nearest wall, tipping a Rembrandt from its perch and sending it crashing to the floor. His lordship barely spared the painting a glance; he’d never liked the thing anyway.
Outside, it was just getting dark enough for the torches around the pool to have been lit. The nymphs were still at play but he noted that the boy toys were absent. Just as well. He hated to think what he would have done if one of them had gotten near his pet.
She was standing naked, tied between two columns, her arms stretched out and her wrists secured. Several of the coven members were amusing themselves with her. Two were playing with her breasts, teasing and sucking her nipples. The other was kneeling to lap at her cunt.
The sight drew his lordship up short. He had to admit, there was something quite erotic about all those naked women--not all to his taste, to be sure, but not bad looking either--circling around his naked pet.
For a few moments, he forgot why he was there, so absorbed was he in the spectacle. But inevitably, his eye fell on Bunny and his fury returned in full measure.
Stalking over to where she sat, he demanded, “Have you taken leave of what little sense you ever possessed?”
She threw back the remainder of her chartreuse drink and shrugged. “I merely wanted an opportunity to talk with you. This seemed the best way to get it.”
“You’re deranged and we have nothing to talk about. Hand her over.”
“Why? She seems to be enjoying herself.”
A glance in his pet’s direction drew him up short. The combination of suction on her nipples and clit was beginning to have the inevitable effect. She’d be coming before much longer.
Angrily, he said, “You’re only making things worse.”
“Perhaps but I feel compelled to appeal to your reason.”
Still distracted, his lordship murmured, “My what?”
“Your reason. What sets you and all men above women. We are emotional, you are rational, blah-blah. You believe that, don’t you?”
“What? Oh, yes, of course I do. What’s your point?”
“With what you’re planning, I’ll be forced to fight you in the courts. It will all become a scandal and a huge distraction.”
His gaze swiveled to her. Had he heard correctly? “How the devil do you know what I’m planning?”
She sighed as though the answer would be screamingly obvious to the smallest child. “You spoke to your solicitors.”
“Who are partners in a firm that’s been practicing for two hundred bloody years! Do not expect me to believe they would ever violate the sanctity of attorney-client privilege.”
The notion was absurd, the very sort of drivel that a woman like Bunny would come up with.
She waved off a boy toy approaching with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and said, “Not deliberately. But like all men, they don’t think twice about prattling on to women--wives, mistresses, whomever.” With an amused look, she added, “We know far more than you give us credit for.”
The sudden shriveling sensation in his balls was so unpleasant that he refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he demanded, “Why are you so eager to avoid scandal?”
Centuries of breeding were required to produce the precise degree of haughtiness in the lift of her chin and the sneer that accompanied it. “It offends me that with all the power at your command, the best you can think to do with it is punish an affront to your dignity.”
She was offended? Truly, their conversation had become surreal.
“Do not think to instruct me in the performance of my duties,” he said coldly. “No man cares more for King and Country than I.”
“Is that so? Then why don’t you care that it’s all coming to a reckoning?”
The woman truly had taken leave of her senses. Not that he’d cut her any slack because of it.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“The obvious, I should think. It’s all a grand, lovely party--for us at least--but it has to end sometime. Everything does. The bill always comes due.”
A chill raced down his spine. What she said touched a chord deep within him, a place where the subtle inputs of a thousand variables that he encountered in the course of his official life suddenly resonated. Not in any logical way that he could articulate but more like the proverbial sense of someone walking over his grave.
There was so much to always try to take in--harvests, weather, outbreaks of disease, the prices of commodities, flare-ups of ancient enmities, the sudden rise and fall of local politicians, the impact of new technologies. And floating above all that, the impossibility of ever truly being able to control what individual human beings would do. No one could predict when they would collide at a tipping point of the kind that brought down empires and remade the world. And if that couldn’t be predicted or controlled, how was it to be prevented?
Of all the civilizations that had ever existed over the bloody, chaotic history of mankind, all but a handful were dust. Their might struck down, their achievements forgotten, nothing left but a handful of rocky ruins and a whisper on the wind.
It was, he realized, his ultimate nightmare for the empire that he loved. And it had been conjured from the mouth of a woman who gave every evidence of having the social awareness of a squid.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
She blinked and for a moment looked confused before reverting to her normal state of self-absorption. “I have no idea. What did I say?”
“Something about a reckoning.”
“Oh, that. The queerest feelings sweep over me from time to time. I try to ignore them.”
Apparently, not hard enough.
“You should avoid absinthe,” he advised. “It rots the mind.”
H
e turned away, instinctively focusing on his pet. Her skin glowed, her back was arched, soft moans were breaking from her--
“You’ll be hearing from my new solicitors,” he advised his errant wife before striding off to reclaim what was his alone.
Chapter Eighteen
Having snatched his pet from the very verge of orgasm, his lordship decided that he should make it up to her.
This he did at his leisure all through the remainder of the evening and into the night, going so far as to display a hitherto unrevealed talent for cunnilingus that he was certain far eclipsed whatever the women could muster. Not that he was in any sense in competition with them. Perish the thought.
The fact was that he loved the feel of her swollen clit under his tongue, loved flicking round and round and up and down the little nub before sucking on it tenderly. He loved her cries, the tremors that seized her as she came, the relaxed, smoky look in her eyes afterward.
Most particularly, he loved thrusting into her right then, watching her struggle against the upsurge of hunger so lately quelled before finally surrendering. To him.
She drove every other thought from him and for that he could not help but be grateful.
At length, he fell asleep, well satisfied. No doubt remained in his mind. Despite all the drama and turmoil of the past few months, his decision to acquire a pet had been both inspired and sensible.
Had his lordship been aware of his pet’s own thoughts on the matter as she surveyed him in his slumber, he would have known better.
Had he considered for a moment the consequences of using a young woman so shamelessly and with such insufferable selfishness, he would never have been so foolish as to fall asleep at her side.
Moreover, had he been privy to any of the conversations that had gone on under his roof the previous few weeks between those who had known him all his life and she who had recently come into it, he might have saved himself a great deal of trouble.