Chapter Seven

 

Georgina’s fingers bit into Andrea’s upper arm like talons, guiding her through the busy restaurant. The maitre d’ stood aside as they reached the exit, his eyes watching Andrea’s every step, his expression clearly puzzled.

As they got outside the main entrance Andrea saw a pack of drivers standing by six or seven large limousines, parked at the front of the car park. Georgina gestured to one of them, who immediately hurried to a claret-coloured Rolls Royce. Moments later the luxury car was crunching gravel outside the front entrance and the chauffeur walked majestically around to open the passenger door.

‘Sorry, madam,’ he said, ‘I thought you were staying for lunch.’

‘Change of plan, Freddie,’ Georgina said, guiding Andrea into the car.

Andrea’s emotions were reeling. After a moment of real intimacy with her master, when he’d touched her physically in a way he’d not done before, he abandoned her apparently without the slightest qualm, barely giving her a second glance as Georgina pulled her to her feet. As she looked back at him as they left the restaurant he was busy eating his lunch, clearly not giving the matter a second thought.

But she knew she mustn’t dwell on that. She was his slave, after all. For all she knew this was just another carefully rehearsed test, and Georgina’s arrival wasn’t as unexpected as it appeared. Whether that was the case or not she determined that she must not fail him. He’d told her to obey and that’s what she would do, no matter how testing that might be. She wanted the woman to report to him that she’d done everything asked of her, no matter what it was.

The interior of the Rolls, like the interior of the Mercedes, smelled strongly of leather. The back seat was deeply padded, the floor covered with a luxurious carpet. Unlike the Mercedes, however, the windows were not opaque glass. Nor was there any glass divider between the driver and the passengers.

As the car drove off Georgina turned to Andrea. ‘How long have you been with Charles?’

Andrea thought for a moment. It was difficult to keep track of time. It felt like she’d been at the manor for a lifetime. ‘Two or three weeks.’

‘You address me as mistress,’ she snapped, her eyes cold and hard.

‘Yes, mistress.’

‘Take your jacket off; let’s see what we’ve got here. And kneel on the floor.’

Andrea knelt on the soft carpet and slipped off the jacket.

Georgina lent forward and examined her breasts closely. ‘Now the blouse.’

Andrea pulled the blouse out from her skirt and took it off.

‘What’s that, a slip or a teddy?’

‘A teddy, mistress.’

‘Slip it off your shoulders and then take your bra off. I want to see your breasts.

She extracted her arms from the satin shoulder straps and pulled it down to her waist. Reaching behind her back she unclipped her bra, relieved, with the clear glass in the windows, to be travelling through the countryside not a town. Her breasts quivered as the bra cups fell away.

‘Impressive,’ Georgina said, picking up her left breast by the nipple and pulling it this way and that. ‘Turn so Freddie can see.’

Again Andrea obeyed. She saw the chauffeur’s eyes examining her in the rear-view mirror. He was young, with blue eyes and a square jaw. It looked like his nose had been broken at some point in the past.

‘What do you think?’

‘Nice,’ he said, with no particular conviction.

‘Freddie’s not really into big tits.’ Georgina pulled Andrea around again. ‘But my husband is. Are they sensitive?’ Georgina had long fingernails, which she buried into Andrea’s right nipple.

‘Yes, mistress,’ Andrea gasped, and as she let go Andrea saw the nails had left crescent shapes in the puckered flesh.

‘Good. Take your skirt off.’

Andrea reached behind her back to the short zip. She undid it, then sat up on her haunches so she could pull the skirt down to her thighs. If she wasn’t sure what she was feeling when she got into the car, she certainly felt no such dilemma now. It appeared that as long as she was treated like a slave, as long as she were debased and made to feel totally subservient, her body responded with unadulterated excitement.

She wondered if that was why her master had agreed to let her go. It would teach her a valuable lesson. No matter who was in charge of her, the feelings and emotions her total submission generated were the same. What she felt for Hawksworth, the affect he’d had on her from the moment she first saw him, allowed her to be honest about her sexual needs. He recognised something in her and had the means to satisfy it. But now she was beginning to realise that, though she would always want and desire him to be her master, her needs were not specific to him. She had taken an instant dislike to Georgina, but even that did not affect the way she responded to her commands.

Andrea rocked back onto her bottom and wriggled the skirt down her legs.

‘And the teddy,’ Georgina said.

The white silk garment was banded around her waist. Andrea slipped it off, leaving her naked but for the gloves, suspender belt, stockings and high-heels.

‘Hold your hands out in front of you. Thumbs up. You can keep the gloves on.’

Georgina had a yellow handbag, almost the same colour as the dress. She searched inside it and extracted a pair of miniature metal cuffs, which she closed around Andrea’s leather-covered thumbs, effectively binding them together.

The car turned off the main road and was heading down a country lane into a small village. There was a roundabout by the village green, and they slowed to a halt as two cars swung by from the right. Andrea found herself staring straight into the eyes of a young cyclist who had pulled up alongside them. He was fresh-faced and blushed as he eyed Andrea’s body.

The Rolls pulled away. A few minutes later it slowed again and pulled into the tarmac driveway of an impressive country house, a beech hedge surrounding the whole property. The driveway was short and the car rolled up to the front door.

‘Take her around the back, Freddie. I’ll go and get Miles.’

‘Yes, madam,’ Freddie said.

Georgina got out of the car, which immediately pulled away. It followed the drive around the back of the house and stopped by a block of garages.

The chauffeur opened the passenger door. ‘Out,’ he said.

Andrea climbed out of the car. Freddie took her by the arm and led her across to the garages. The doors were open and a red Ferrari was parked inside. They walked past it to a door in the back, which Freddie unlocked with a key. ‘In here.’

The room beyond was tall and narrow. It was clean but sparse, with white walls and a stripped wooden floor. It had no windows and was lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. A wooden frame about the size of a double bed in the middle of the floor and a large pine chest of drawers was the only furniture.

Freddie closed the door. ‘Are you really into all this?’

‘Yes,’ Andrea said simply, because it was true.

‘You must be bleedin’ mad,’ he said, slipping into a cockney accent. ‘Come over here.’

He walked to the far side of the room. There was a single metal ring set in the wall about seven feet up. A rope hung down from it. Freddie took hold of her hands, pulled them up above her head and tied them to the rope so she was stretched up almost on tiptoe, her naked breasts pressed against the wall.

‘Nice arse,’ he said. He was still wearing his driving gloves. He caressed her buttocks roughly. ‘Have fun.’

He started to walk across the room as Georgina entered. ‘Not going, are you Freddie?’

‘You know I’m not into all this stuff.’

‘So straight, aren’t you? It’s a pity.’ Georgina ran a hand up his forearm and gripped his upper arm tightly, blowing a kiss into his face.

The chauffeur smiled. ‘Each to his own,’ he said. He walked out of the door, closing it behind him.

Georgina came up behind Andrea. Her hand traced over her buttocks, then pushed down between them. Her finger prodded into her vagina.

‘Very juicy,’ she said. It was. What happened in the car had seen to that. Her nipples were also so hard they felt like pebbles.

She walked over to the chest of drawers and opened the bottom drawer. Andrea twisted her head around and saw her taking out a long leather tawse, its tongue split into three. She slapped it against her open palm.

‘We can’t afford slaves of our own. Much too expensive. But Hawksworth can sometimes be very generous.’

The door opened. A thin, gaunt man in a white cotton robe walked in. He had tousled brown hair and a long face with a lantern jaw.

‘Well, she’s a pretty one,’ he said, staring at Andrea’s naked body. ‘How long do we have her for?’

‘Charles wants her back tonight. He was very insistent.’

Andrea realised that was true. She hadn’t thought of that. Did it mean Hawksworth had something in mind for her?

‘Lovely tight arse,’ he said.

‘I was just going to warm it up a bit.’

‘Good idea. Give me one of those. We’ll take it in turns.’

Georgina took another tawse from the drawer and handed it to her husband.

‘Shall we tie her legs?’ he asked.

‘No, let’s watch her wriggle.’

Georgina put her tawse down on the top of the chest of drawers, then pulled the jersey dress over her head. She was wearing beige French knickers inset with lace, and a pair of flesh-coloured hold-up stockings, but no bra. Her skin was evenly tanned. She picked the tawse up again and advanced towards her prey.

‘She hasn’t been trained,’ she told her husband.

‘Really? Does she know how to respond properly?’ He raised the tawse and lashed it down against Andrea’s left buttock.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, hoping that was the response he expected. The pain from the tawse was quite different from the whip, less intense but over a much broader area.

‘Apparently she does,’ Georgina said. She lashed her tawse down on Andrea’s right buttock.

‘Thank you, mistress.’

‘That’s enough,’ the man said. He raised the tawse again and cut it down powerfully. Instinctively Andrea tried to squirm out of the way, but as she moved to the right Georgina caught her full across the bottom with another vicious stroke.

‘Keep still,’ the woman ordered.

The blows fell thick and fast, one after the other, the flesh of Andrea’s buttocks trembling, the skin soon a bright red. Despite Georgina’s injunction Andrea found it impossible not to squirm against the wall, her breasts rubbing against the plaster and her arse on fire. She lost count of the number of strokes they gave her, but she was sure there wasn’t a single part of her bottom they hadn’t thrashed. Several strokes fell on her upper thighs too, the tip of the tawse coiling inward to lash the delicate flesh of her labia. But any pain she felt had long turned to strong, breathless pleasure.

‘That’s enough,’ Miles said.

‘Nice and red.’ Georgina’s hand caressed the welted flesh. It felt deliciously cool and Andrea moaned as it soothed her scorched arse.

‘Turn her round.’

Miles stripped off his robe as Georgina did so. His body was thin and hairless, but a large cock sprouted from his loins. He raised the tawse again and smacked it against each of Andrea’s breasts in turn, watching them quiver under the impact. ‘Nice tits.’

‘I thought you’d like them.’

‘Spread your legs apart, girl,’ he ordered.

Andrea tried to obey but her hands were bound high above her head so she was almost at full stretch, and parting her legs put more pressure on her already tortured arms.

Miles ran a hand up her thigh until his fingers were touching her labia. ‘It’s running down her legs,’ he said.

‘They’re all like that, Miles. This is what turns them on, you know that. Especially Hawksworth’s girls. He seems to find the ones that need it most.’

A finger nudged against Andrea’s clitoris and she moaned again.

‘Her clit’s swollen, too.’

‘Come on, darling, I’m so randy...’ Georgina purred, pushing herself into her husband’s arms and kissing him passionately. Andrea saw her squeeze her legs together, trapping his cock between her thighs.

Miles broke away. He went over to the chest of drawers and took a small key from the top drawer. He came back to Andrea and stretched up to insert it into the thumb cuffs, his erection prodding into her side. Then as Andrea dropped her arms she felt a wave of pain, the cramped muscles in her shoulders registering a sharp protest.

‘Over here,’ Georgina said, indicating the wooden frame. ‘Kiss me,’ she ordered, and hooked a hand around Andrea’s neck and kissed her too, her tongue thrust into Andrea’s mouth, exploring aggressively. Andrea felt a surge of lust. She didn’t think she would ever get over the shock of kissing a woman. But it was a shock that aroused her. It felt so different from a man, the lips more pliant, the mouth softer, and of course, the body that pressed against her, the breasts and belly and thighs so soft and silky. Georgina pressed a thigh between Andrea’s legs, and she could feel the juices from her sex leaking over it. For a moment Andrea was completely transported, lost in a world of sensuous pleasure, her eyes closed, her body throbbing with delight.

‘Come on, I’m randy too,’ Miles said irritably.

Georgina pulled away, jolting Andrea back to reality. ‘Lay down on the frame, in the middle,’ she ordered.

Andrea did as she was told. It was made from wooden slats, which were hard against her back.

Georgina took hold of her left wrist and pulled it back above her head. There was a leather cuff attached to each top corner of the frame, and Georgina buckled one around Andrea’s wrist. She then took the right arm and secured that to the opposite corner.

‘Now your legs. Stretch them apart.’

She grabbed Andrea’s ankle and pulled it over to the bottom of the frame, where she quickly strapped that into another padded cuff. She secured the other ankle, then went around tightening the white nylon rope that held the cuffs to the frame, until Andrea’s body was stretched taut across it. Though it was impossible for her to do anything other than wriggle her torso helplessly from side to side, Georgina took four lengths of rope from the chest of drawers, knelt on the frame, then wound them under the wooden slats and tied them to Andrea’s arms, just above the elbow, and her legs, just above the knee.

As she stood back to admire her work Andrea felt the familiar effects of such complete bondage. The more her body was constricted the more her sex seemed to palpitate. She could feel her clitoris pulsing and her labia throbbing. Of course tied like this, with her sex open and completely exposed to their gaze, the effect was even stronger. They were both looking at her, their eyes focussed between her legs, and that provoked her as much as if they’d been touching her. She would have loved to touch herself, to run a finger against her clit, but the fact that she couldn’t, the fact that she was completely helpless, only increased her arousal. She struggled for a moment, not to try to escape, but because she wanted to feel exactly how powerless she was.

Georgina turned to her husband. She took his erect cock in her hand and squeezed it. ‘Are you ready?’ she asked unnecessarily.

He nodded, taking hold of the waistband of her French knickers and pulling them down to her thighs. She shook her legs until the knickers fell to the floor, then stepped out of them.

Georgina knelt on the frame at Andrea’s side. She swung one thigh over Andrea’s body so she was straddling it, and moved back until her sex was posed above Andrea’s face. Andrea gazed up at her, the flesh above the stocking tops soft and inviting. Her sex mound was covered with auburn hair, and Andrea could see the scarlet flesh of her wet vagina.

Miles was kneeling on the frame too, between Andrea’s outstretched arms. He shuffled on his knees until his cock was sprouting over Andrea’s face too, his glans no more than an inch from his wife’s sex. A tear of fluid had escaped his urethra and was running down his shaft.

‘Lick it,’ Georgina ordered.

For a moment Andrea wasn’t sure what she was meant to do, but then Miles lowered his cock down onto her face, pressing his glans against her lips. She shuddered with excitement as she licked the rigid flesh as if it were an ice-lolly. She managed to stroke her tongue around it and draw his whole cock down into her mouth, tightening her lips around it and sucking it deep. Again the bondage aroused her. The fact that she could hardly move any other part of her body seemed to concentrate her senses on her mouth. She sucked him diligently, trying to raise her head off the frame to get him even deeper.

Miles pulled away, his cock covered with Andrea’s saliva. Almost immediately Georgina sank down and her sex planted itself firmly on Andrea’s mouth.

‘My turn,’ she said.

Andrea kissed her sex greedily, crushing her lips against her labia. She tried to bury her tongue into Georgina’s satiny vagina, but couldn’t get it very far.

‘My arse, do that,’ Georgina said crudely, her voice strained with passion.

Andrea shifted her mouth back slightly, her tongue working its way to the little puckered star of Georgina’s anus. She had never done this to either a man or a woman, but was much too aroused to give that a second thought. She pushed her tongue up and felt the little entrance resist. She persisted, squirming her tongue from side to side, and suddenly the muscles relaxed and her tongue was enveloped in a tight, hot tube of flesh.

Georgina moaned. Andrea’s own anus seemed to be reacting too, clenching as she explored Georgina’s rectum.

‘Now,’ Miles grunted, and Georgina raised herself, Andrea’s tongue slipping from her anus. She pushed back and there, a few inches above her face, Andrea watched Miles’ cock ploughing into Georgina’s cunt. She watched with total fascination as her labia were stretched around the broad shaft and it disappeared into her, the whole phallus buried. She watched Georgina grind her hips from side to side, stirring him around in her sex.

‘Take his balls in your mouth,’ Georgina ordered.

Miles’ scrotum was bobbing just above her chin, so with a great effort of will and ignoring the cramp in her shoulders, Andrea raised her head and opened her mouth. She caught one of his balls between her lips, and heard Miles moan loudly.

He made no attempt to fuck his wife; just grinding the base of his shaft against her while Andrea sucked his balls. ‘Yes, like that,’ he urged, as she rolled them in her mouth.

The sight of their lovemaking provoked new waves of excitement in Andrea. Everything she was sure Georgina was feeling deep in her vagina she was feeling too. But they were suddenly overtaken as she felt Georgina dip her head between her thighs and crush her mouth against her open labia. The woman’s tongue darted out, first encircling the tender flesh of her pussy lips, then moving to her clitoris, exposed and vulnerable and pulsing hungrily.

All Andrea’s feelings and emotions coalesced. It felt as if Georgina’s tongue had somehow worked its way inside her clitoris, its writhing tempo producing such soaring pleasure. There seemed to be a direct connection between her wet sex and her mouth, sucking Miles’ balls. Like an arc of electricity sensations leapt from one to the other, bringing her closer and closer to what she knew was an inevitable orgasm.

She didn’t know whether she was allowed to come, whether the master’s prohibition still applied, but even if it did there was simply nothing she could do to stop herself, especially as she could see, right in front of her eyes, that Georgina was coming too, her sex clenching rhythmically around her husband’s cock. She was gasping too, trying to maintain her contact with Andrea’s clit, her breathing short and heavy.

‘Oh, my God,’ she squealed, the words muffled against Andrea’s sex, the movement of her lips creating countless new delights.

Andrea saw the muscles of her thighs lock and felt her mouth seem to melt over her sex, so hot and wet it became indistinguishable from it. Then it was Andrea’s turn, this last provocation irresistible, sensations springing from her clitoris and her vagina, both convulsing wildly, and from her mind where she saw herself tied down being used so obscenely. Exactly as her orgasm exploded and her body shuddered Miles pulled out of his wife’s vagina and came too, his semen spattering down over Andrea’s face. He pushed his cock down into her mouth and she felt more spunk jetting out of him, over her lips and tongue and down into her throat, giving her orgasm a whole new dimension, almost as though she had come again.

It was a long time before they moved. Georgina sat at her side and used her French knickers to wipe the spunk from Andrea’s face.

‘You’re really into this, aren’t you?’ she asked quietly.

‘Yes, mistress,’ Andrea replied. It was true. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew this was a turning point for her. Even when previously alone with Laurie her submission had a direct connection to her master; she was in his house with his overseer, obeying his instructions. But these people were complete strangers with little or no connection to him. She could not kid herself it was his domineering presence that created her wanton responses to what they’d done to her. No slave was complete without a master, Hawksworth had told her in the beginning, and she knew that was true. But it appeared it did not matter who that master was.

 

‘Take her back to the manor. You know where it is, don’t you?’

‘Yes, madam,’ Freddie said.

Andrea had been taken into the house, given some food and allowed to use the bathroom. She dressed herself and tried to re-pin her hair in the style Betty had created that morning. They didn’t provide her with any cosmetics, so she couldn’t repair the damage to her make-up that was the inevitable consequence of what they’d been doing together.

Georgina and Miles had waited her for by the front door, the Rolls parked in the drive.

‘She can’t go back like that,’ Miles said.

‘Why not?’ Georgina asked.

‘Hawksworth wouldn’t like it. Hold on.’ He walked back into the house, and a few minutes later came back with a thin white cord. ‘Put your hands up in front of you,’ he ordered.

Andrea obeyed. He looped the cord several times around her wrists, binding them together, then threaded the cord into the ring on her steel collar.

‘That’s better,’ Miles said.

‘You’re right, it is,’ Georgina agreed. ‘Now get in the car.’

Awkwardly, with her hands tied in front of her throat, Andrea climbed onto the back seat.

‘I hope we’ll see you again, young lady,’ Georgina said, then took her husband’s hand and ambled back into the house.

The chauffeur got behind the wheel and the quiet car pulled away. At the end of the drive he turned left into the winding country lanes.

‘So did you have a good time?’ he asked, looking at her in the rear-view mirror.

‘I’m not supposed to talk,’ she said.

‘Who’s going to hear you? I’m not going to tell. Come on, what did they do to you?’

Andrea said nothing. The cord bit into her flesh and she tried to ease it by wriggling her wrists into a more comfortable position, flattening her palms together.

‘So it turns you on, does it, being submissive?’

Andrea remained silent.

‘Come on. We’ve got an hour’s drive. Might as well talk to each other.’

‘I’m not supposed to talk.’

‘Yeah, so you say. Come on, darlin’, I’m curious. Those two are always trying to get me involved in their games, but I’m not interested. I’ve always been real straight about sex. Do you like straight sex too?’

Andrea looked at him in the mirror. His eyes were staring at her. Her skirt had ridden up over her thighs, revealing the tops of her stockings, but with her hands tied to her throat there was nothing she could do to pull it back down.

‘You’re really something, you know that, don’t you?’ He drove for another ten minutes without saying anything more, but kept glancing at her in the mirror, clearly still intrigued. She saw a sign indicating a motorway was close.

‘Hey, I’ve got a good idea,’ he said suddenly, and slowed the car.

There was a gap in a hedge to their left, leading to a small copse of trees in a corner of a ploughed field. He pulled into it. The sun had set but there was still enough light to see by.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked sharply.

‘I thought you weren’t allowed to speak,’ he said. He got out, then came around and opened her door. ‘Out,’ he said.

‘No. Take me back to the manor.’

‘We’re having a comfort break,’ he said. He walked to the large tree under which they were parked, opened his flies and started to pee. ‘That’s better,’ he said, returning to the car, his cock still hanging out of his fly. ‘Come on, the air will do you good.’

‘I’m not allowed to.’

He laughed. ‘You’re allowed to fuck those two but you ain’t allowed to get out of the car?’

‘Please,’ she said.

‘Do it. You get your kicks by being a slave, right? Well, I’m your master now.’ He reached into the car and caught hold of her arm. ‘Come on,’ he hauled her out, ‘let’s see what makes you so special.’

He pushed her to her knees on the dewy grass and took her head in his hands. His circumcised cock had already started to swell, and he pulled her mouth to it.

‘Suck, and that’s an order!’ he growled.

Andrea’s emotions were mixed. What had happened with Georgina and Miles was exciting, so exciting that her body still tingled with arousal. Her orgasm had been exquisite but it left her with a deep-seated need to be penetrated, and the thought of a hard cock thrusting into her was overwhelming. Freddie was a strong man, but she knew he wasn’t supposed to be behaving in this way and that, by implication, cooperating with him was wrong. If it came out that he’d stopped the car and used her in such a way Hawksworth might believe she’d encouraged him.

On the other hand, it was extremely unlikely that anyone would ever find out. Hawksworth said she should be back at the house by ten, and it was only eight o’clock now. No one would ever know what had happened. And she could tell herself she was not breaking her private oath of obedience to her master. Freddie was strong enough to force her to do whatever he had in mind, especially with her hands tied securely to the steel collar.

Of course it could all be a test, organised with Georgina ahead of time. But she dismissed the thought. The meeting with Georgina seemed spontaneous; there was no time to set up such a charade. So she opened her mouth and sucked his cock in, feeling it engorging rapidly.

‘That’s better,’ he said.

She ran her tongue over the ridge at the base of his glans, then sucked the whole shaft eagerly. The blood pumped into it rapidly, pushing it into her throat. Her sex throbbed, clenching involuntarily, imagining how it would feel to have his large erection pounding into it. Bound as she was the tips of her fingers were within reach of his balls, and she stretched them out, stroking his scrotum. His cock twitched in her mouth.

‘Shall I untie you?’ he said.

She shook her head with real alarm. If he untied her she would not be able to prevent to herself that none of this was her fault.

‘Well, if that’s what you want...’

He pulled out of her, took hold of her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. He took the keys from the ignition and dragged her around to the back of the car, opening the boot. She saw a box of tools and other equipment. Freddie opened the box and took out a nylon towrope. He closed the boot and dragged her to the tree. One of its lower branches had broken off and lay on the grass. It was bowed in the middle to about waist height.

Freddie took one end of the towrope and tied it around the cord that bound her wrist to the steel collar, then jumped over to the other side of the fallen branch and pulled the rope down so that Andrea was forced to bend forward from the waist. He got to his knees, stretched under the wood and looped the other end of the rope around her left ankle, making it impossible for her to straighten up again.

‘Is that what you want?’

‘Yes, master,’ she intoned, the bondage creating its usual wave of excitement.

‘Master. Is that what you call your men? I like it. Say it again.’

‘Master.’

Freddie climbed back over the branch, then eased the hem of her skirt up over her hips. ‘Well, now look at that.’

The gusset of the teddy had worked its up between the cheeks of her bottom, hiding little. Her buttocks were red and tender from the beating they’d been given, and tingled in the cool air.

‘Gave you a good thrashing, didn’t they?’ he mused. ‘Are you into that too?’

‘Yes, master.’

He ran a finger down the side of her leg, following the line of the white suspender to the top of her stocking. ‘Well, shall I tell you what I’m into?’

Andrea closed her eyes and nodded.

‘I’m into fucking.’

The crudity of the word excited Andrea. It was exactly what she wanted. She was not supposed to speak unless she was spoken to, but under these circumstances it was academic. ‘Please fuck me then, master.’

‘You’ve changed you’re tune,’ he sneered. ‘I could have fucked you in the car. What is it; you can only get off if you’re tied up?’

‘Yes, master.’

He undid his belt and pushed his trousers and black briefs down to his knees. His hand slipped under the gusset of the teddy and pulled it out of the cleft of her buttocks. He stared at her labia.

‘Very smooth. Do they have you shaved?’

‘No, master.’

His fingers ran down into her sex. He found the opening of her vagina and prodded a finger into it. ‘Christ, you’re wet.’ He pushed another finger in alongside the first, while his other hand worked its way from her neck to her breasts. It kneaded and mauled them both. Then he pulled his fingers out of her cunt and gripped her hips, pushing his cock between her legs. Andrea gasped. It felt hot and rock hard.

‘Ask me again,’ he said.

‘Please... fuck me, master,’ she panted, and she really meant it. The presence of his cock so close to her cunt was making her whole body tingle with anticipation. She could feel her vagina eager for penetration, after being neglected all afternoon. Her bondage was uncomfortable. Her back ached from being bent forward so sharply, her belly was pressed against the rough bark of the bough, and her neck and arms were cramped from being bound so tightly together, but all these irritations were also arousing, the more they hurt the more her level of excitement rose.

‘Again,’ he insisted.

‘Fuck me, for Christ’s sake, fuck me,’ she begged him.

She felt his grip on her hips tighten. His cock was throbbing against her labia, but instead of sinking it into her vagina he butted the glans against her clit. Andrea gasped as he made little prodding movements, each one producing a wild pulse of sensations that coursed through her.

‘Please,’ she begged. She knew he was teasing her, deliberately holding back the moment of penetration, and that excited her too. Even in this secret tryst she was a slave, still unable to assert her own needs.

He pulled his cock back then angled it upwards. As it settled between her lips the satiny flesh responded with a jolt of pleasure. Andrea felt her labia desperately trying to draw him in. But he didn’t move. Instead she felt his hand snaking over the skirt bunched up at her waist. A finger slid to her clit, rubbing it.

‘Please... please...’ she begged.

‘Please what?’ he taunted.

‘Please, master.’

Almost before she had finished the last word Freddie thrust his cock into her. She was so wet the penetration was smooth and easy, the rigid phallus lancing into her until she felt his pubic hair grazing the cheeks of her bottom. With both hands on her hips he began pounding into her, pulling her back against her bonds as he lunged forward.

The feeling took Andrea’s breath away. Though she’d had countless orgasms in the last two weeks it had been a long time since she was so comprehensively fucked. She’d been penetrated with dildoes and fingers front and back, been licked and sucked and abused, but apart from the time her master fucked her bum, she’d not had a hard, throbbing penis filling and stretching her like this. And he was hard. And throbbing. He filled her completely, stretching the silky walls of her vagina.

There in the copse, with darkness falling, she knew there was nothing to stop her coming. Hawksworth would never find out. Of course it was an act of disobedience but surely there’d be no consequences; she would only have her own conscience to deal with.

She felt her cunt gripping the sword of flesh that stabbed into her, and her clit pulsed violently. Her sex seemed to open, like the blossoming of a flower, allowing him even deeper, and as his glans plunged into this new territory she came, her eyes screwed closed, her whole world narrowed to the compass of her sex.

He must have felt her orgasm erupt, but didn’t pause for a second. If anything he increased his tempo, fucking her faster and more deeply, each stroke pushing her into the rough bark of the tree. She raised her head as far as her bonds would allow and opened her mouth to beg him to stop for a moment, but before she could get the words out another orgasm struck. She was coming again, her body trembling from head to toe, her sex convulsing, her mind wiped clean of everything but the uncontrollable pleasure.

As this orgasm ebbed and her senses began to return, she was aware that his rhythm had slowed. Suddenly he pulled out of her altogether, producing a paroxysm in Andrea’s cunt that made her whimper. But before she could protest the bulb of his glans was nudging into the little crater of her anus. He pushed, not at all gently, and encountered no resistance. Andrea was so turned on her sphincter was already relaxed. She felt his glans piercing her rear, the flesh so wet with her juices it slid home effortlessly.

Andrea felt a stab of discomfort. Unlike her master, Freddie did not stop there. He thrust again, his bloated cock penetrating deeper, until it was completely buried inside her. She shuddered and heard herself sobbing, although it sounded as though it wasn’t really her at all.

Freddie was in no mood for subtleties. He began stabbing his cock into her anus as hard as he had in her cunt. Another flood of acute pleasure washed over her, inundating her with sensations so strong they made every nerve in her body knot, and every muscle lock. She was trembling in helpless ecstasy.

Freddie pulled her hips back towards him one last time, buried his cock right up to the hilt in her anus and came, hot semen jetting into the tight confines of her rear. She could feel each eruption, and each one drove her deeper and deeper into another orgasm. She screwed her eyes closed, pulled on the rope that bound her to the branch, and allowed the glorious sensations to overwhelm her.

She felt Freddie’s soft, spent cock slip from her body. He knelt at her feet and untied the rope. As she straightened up she felt the strange sensation of viscous liquid running down the insides of her thighs. It was a feeling that made her shudder.

He untied the rope from her hands. ‘We’d better get going,’ he said, looking at his watch. The fluorescent dial glowed dully in the gloom. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, master,’ she said, managing a smile.

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

The white skirt was marked with moss from the bough and badly creased. The blouse and jacket showed signs of dirt too. Her left stocking was laddered and the white shoes stained with grass. The frantic activity as she was bent over the branch with her head down had dislodged most of the pins from her hair, and it looked ragged and unkempt.

It was only as she climbed back into the car and caught a glimpse of herself in walnut-framed vanity mirrors that she realised how bedraggled she looked. What’s more, there was nothing she could do about it. Even if Freddie released her hands she wouldn’t be able to make any impression on the stains, or change her stockings, and she doubted she would be able to do much with her hair without a brush and more hairpins.

She would have to hope that Hawksworth would blame Georgina. Perhaps he’d think they took her out into the woods. But as they got closer to the manor she became more apprehensive. What made it worse was that her master told Georgina she was needed back at the house by ten, which made her think he had something special in mind for her. If he had Laurie take her straight to him, would he question her closely about what had happened and if so, would she be able to lie? Lying was, after all, the ultimate disobedience.

She became increasingly gloomy and depressed. There was nothing she could do to resist Freddie, but she knew that in the end she’d actively encouraged him, and she felt guilty about that, a guilt compounded by the fact that the orgasms she’d enjoyed were still giving her little trills and tremors of pleasure. Her anus was still tingling where he buggered her, and she could feel the sticky semen seeping out of it. If she hadn’t enjoyed it, if she hadn’t orgasmed so freely, she would feel as if she’d betrayed her master’s trust.

Freddie did not say a word as they drove through the gates of the manor and up to the front door. Laurie opened it as soon as the car appeared. She strode over to the passenger door and opened it as the car came to a halt.

‘Out,’ she said.

Andrea held her breath as she clambered awkwardly from the back seat.

‘Thank you,’ Laurie said to Freddie.

‘My pleasure,’ he said, grinning broadly. He glanced at Andrea, who rapidly looked away. ‘My pleasure.’

‘This way,’ Laurie said, as the car cruised away back up the drive. Her eyes examined Andrea critically but she didn’t say a word. She took Andrea’s arm and led her into the house. She was wearing another one of her skin-tight cat-suits, this one in a dark violet colour, the material woven with some sort of metallic thread that made it glitter. Her suede ankle boots were black, and her long hair was brushed over her shoulders.

They headed straight for the back of the house. When it was obvious they were going to the stables Andrea breathed a sigh of relief, though she had to confess to disappointment too. Even at the risk of him asking her awkward questions, her desire to see Hawksworth again was overwhelming.

Inside her cell Laurie untied the cord that bound her wrists. ‘Take off all your clothes,’ she said.

Andrea obeyed, handing Laurie each item until she was naked. The gusset of the white silk teddy was soaking wet, and had creased into a thin strip, but though Laurie must have seen it and felt it she made no comment. At least that could have been explained by what had happened with Georgina and Miles.

‘Betty will take you for a shower. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.’

Andrea’s heart leapt. It looked as if her master was waiting for her after all.

Betty arrived moments later and took her to the bathroom. Andrea used the toilet then showered, trying to wash away as much evidence of Freddie as she could. She then sat on a bathroom stool while Betty applied her make-up.

Andrea felt better now. The suit and the lingerie would be sent for cleaning. The evidence of her misbehaviour had been destroyed. Admittedly her bum was still raw, but if Hawksworth asked her about that she would not have to lie.

Back in her cell she found clothes lying on the bed, though very few. There was a corset in black satin, boned to cinch her waist tightly, with four satin suspenders. There was a pair of sheer black stockings next to it, and on the floor a pair of black leather shoes with thin four inch heels.

As she wrapped the corset around her waist, sucking her breath in to enable her to fasten it, her excitement mounted. Everything that happened that afternoon had distracted her from what the master had said and done over lunch. It was a rare moment of intimacy between them. Twice now he’d been alone with her, and each time she felt they shared something special, the unique bond that existed between a master and his slave. It was not love, or even friendship. It was an emotion like no other. She hoped she would experience it again tonight.

As she finished dressing, slipping her feet into the shoes, Laurie appeared.

‘Are you ready?’

‘Yes, Ms Angelis,’ Andrea said.

‘Hands behind your back.’

Andrea turned and pressed her wrists together in the small of her back. She felt the familiarity of metal handcuffs being clipped into place. A tremor of excitement ran through her body. Bondage had become a precursor to sexual pleasure.

Laurie turned her round and clipped the chain leash to the collar, then led her out of the room by it. But to Andrea’s surprise they did not head down the corridor to the house, but walked in the other direction. At the end of the block, by the bathroom, there was a second door. Laurie led her to it, then opened it with a key.

The room beyond was large, with a high sloping ceiling. The floor was polished wood-block, and the walls were covered in dark-blue velvet curtaining. There was a bar of spotlights strung across the ceiling and these had been trained on a circular dais in the centre of the room, about two feet high.

On the dais Andrea was astonished to see the other three girls. They were all dressed in an identical outfit to her; a tight waspie, sheer stockings and shoes. The only difference was the colour. Julia’s outfit was white satin, while the other two girls, whose names Andrea didn’t know, where dressed in red and navy-blue.

The girls were standing with their hands raised above their heads, their wrists secured in leather cuffs which in turn were attached to a metal bar that hung from a chain that disappeared up to the ceiling.

‘I don’t think you’ve met, Donna,’ Laurie pointed to the shortest of the three, ‘and Cherry,’ she said, nodding at the redhead.

She undid Andrea’s handcuffs, replaced them with leather cuffs identical to those worn by the girls, and then led her over to the dais and hitched her up to the metal bar too, her arms stretched up above her head. Then without another word she left the room, locking the door again after her.

‘Bitch,’ Donna grumbled.

‘Shut up,’ Julia snapped.

‘Are we going to just stand here and keep quiet then?’

‘That’s exactly what we’re going to do.’

Donna huffed, but didn’t say another word.

The bondage brought back all the aches and pains Andrea had experienced earlier in the afternoon, and as time went on the girls began to make little whimpering noises. She noticed that Julia had inched closer to Cherry and was moving her body against her, as though trying to comfort her. Cherry responded, rubbing her calf against Julia’s leg, the nylon stockings rasping seductively together.

That stopped the moment they heard the key in the lock, and the two girls moved apart as the door opened and Charles Hawksworth walked in.

‘Here we are,’ he said to someone as yet unseen. ‘I’ve explained it all to you, so now you can see for yourself.’

Following him into the room was a tall male, probably no more than twenty years old. Both wore dinner suits and black bow ties, though the boy was wearing a white tuxedo.

‘My God,’ he said, stopping dead in his tracks as he set eyes on the dais, and the four girls. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he stared at their semi-naked bodies.

‘Introduce yourselves, girls,’ Hawksworth said.

‘Good evening, sir, I’m Julia,’ Julia said at once, and the other three followed suit.

The newcomer walked to the dais and was still staring up at them. ‘Who are they?’ he asked, without taking his eyes from the alluring vision. ‘Where did you find them? Where do they come from?’

Hawksworth smiled. ‘So many questions; but none of that really matters. As I said to you over dinner, it maybe hard for you to understand at your age, but there are women who have, what shall we call it, a penchant for being submissive. Some take years to discover it, others are more open. But of course wanting and getting are two different things. Many women may go through life desiring to be a slave and yet never find a man prepared to give them what they want. In that respect these four are extremely privileged.’

‘How long have they been bound like this?’

‘Half an hour or so.’

‘Is it uncomfortable for them?’

Hawksworth laughed. ‘Of course it’s uncomfortable. That’s the point, Martin. Pain, the sort of pain they’re experiencing now, is entirely relative. It is a function of the mind. I’ll get you a whip. Use it on them. See the effect it has.’

‘A whip?’

‘Yes.’ Hawksworth strode across the room. He pulled aside the velvet curtaining to reveal a rack of whips like the one in the punishment room in the house. He selected a short riding crop with a leather loop at the tip. ‘Here.’

‘Is this some kind of wind up?’

‘Martin, I promised your father before he died that when you were old enough I’d see to this aspect of your education.’

‘My father knew about this?’

‘Yes. He was one of the founder members of the System. Now you’re twenty-one and have inherited from him, you’re entitled to join.’

‘He had women like this?’

‘Yes.’

Martin grinned. ‘I never knew father had it in him.’

‘And your mother. There are women who enjoy the other side of the coin. Like Laurie Angelis.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh yes. In fact, they can be a great deal more...’ he sought the right word, ‘...demanding, than men.’

‘So what do I do?’ Martin asked. It was plain that any unease he felt was rapidly disappearing. His bright blue eyes were beginning to sparkle with excitement.

‘You were asking me about the pain, remember? Use the whip and you’ll see how easily they can convert pain into pleasure.’

‘On their bums?’

‘Or their tits.’

‘Christ.’

Andrea saw Martin swallow hard. He stepped closer and raised the whip, taking aim on Julia’s full buttocks. ‘Like this,’ he said.

‘Yes.’

He swung the whip down hard. Thwack! The noise of leather biting flesh echoed through the room. Andrea was standing directly in front of Julia and saw her eyes close. She knew exactly what she was experiencing.

‘What do you say, Julia?’ Hawksworth prompted.

‘Thank you, sir; may I have another?’

‘Again?’ Martin asked.

‘If you wish,’ Hawksworth encouraged.

He raised the whip again. This time the blow was lower, the whip cutting across the top of Julia’s thighs. She yelped.

‘That hurt her,’ Martin said, reprovingly.

‘Of course it did. But feel the effect it had.’

‘Feel?’

‘It’s all right, Martin. Tell him, Julia.’

‘Please sir, please feel my cunt, sir,’ Julia said breathily.

Martin looked like a man in a trance. He stepped up onto the dais and put his arm around Julia’s waist. Andrea saw his hand slipping over her buttocks. ‘Christ, it’s so hot,’ he murmured.

‘Yes. Very.’

His hand delved lower. Tentatively it slotted into the cleft of her buttocks, and then slid deeper. ‘Christ,’ he said again, drawing his hand away as though stung by a bee.

‘You see?’ Hawksworth mused.

‘I don’t believe it. They’re all like that?’

‘All. What I suggest now is that you pick just one of them and take her back to the house. Spend some time with her. Allow yourself to get comfortable with the idea that she’ll do anything you want. Enjoy yourself. Then tomorrow perhaps you can indulge yourself with two of them.’

‘Two of them? Together?’

‘Of course. I’m going up to bed now. Take your time. The girl will show you where everything is. They know to obey. We’ll talk again over breakfast. Goodnight, Martin.’

The door shut quietly as Hawksworth left. Martin stepped off the dais and began to circle it. ‘What’s your name again?’ he said to Julia, his hand caressing to two weals he’d decorated her arse with.

‘Julia, sir,’ she said.

‘Open your legs, Julia,’ he instructed.

Julia squirmed her legs apart and Andrea watched him stoop slightly to look at her sex. She was sure it would be glistening with juices.

‘And your name?’ he said to Donna, nodding when she told him. ‘Open your legs, Donna. In fact, all of you do it.’

All four girls obeyed. He circled the dais. He extended a hand and stroked Cherry’s leg, running it over one of the suspenders that held her stockings taut. ‘Nice legs,’ he said.

Just then the door open and Laurie walked in.

‘Mr Hawksworth asked me to see if you needed any help, Mr Phillips,’ she said. ‘Have you made your choice?’

‘Not yet.’ He looked at Laurie, who was still wearing the tight cat-suit. ‘This came as quite a surprise.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘How long have your worked for my uncle?’

‘Five years.’

‘And how long has this been going on?’

‘A lot longer than that.’

He turned back to the four girls. ‘They’re all lovely,’ he said. ‘But I choose her.’ He pointed to Andrea. ‘Her.’

Laurie made no comment. She stepped onto the dais and unhooked Andrea’s cuffs from the metal bar. Gingerly Andrea lowered her arms. She gasped as her muscles and sinews reacted to their new freedom.

‘Where shall I take her, Mr Phillips?’

‘My bedroom, I suppose.’

Laurie took the chain leash that still hung between Andrea’s breasts and led her to the door.

‘I’m going to get a drink first,’ Martin said. ‘I need one!’

‘Of course,’ Laurie said.

She led Andrea into the house and up to the first floor. Martin’s room was at the back of the house, overlooking the stable block. It was large and luxurious, with a dark-green carpet and wallpaper that looked like trelliswork intertwined with flowers. There was a large walnut wardrobe and a big armchair by the foot of the bed. The curtains and the upholstery of the chair matched the wallpaper. The bed was almost as big as the one in the master bedroom, and the counterpane had been turned down to reveal white linen sheets.

Laurie unclipped the chain from the collar, then went to the chest of drawers by the bedroom door.

‘Tell him there’s equipment in here,’ she said. ‘All the usual toys. If he wants to take you to the punishment room you know the way, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Ms Angelis.’

Laurie took a single strap from the top drawer of the chest. She came back to Andrea and undid one of the leather cuffs. ‘Hands behind your back,’ she ordered.

Andrea obeyed. She felt the cuff being re-buckled behind her back, then Laurie wrapped the strap around her arms just above her elbows and drew it tight, pulling her shoulders back and thrusting her breasts forward.

‘Don’t let us down, Andrea. This is very important to Mr Hawksworth.’ Laurie left, closing but not locking the bedroom door behind her. The house was silent. Andrea listened. If she could impress Martin, be the perfect slave, he was bound to mention it to his uncle and that would be in her favour. Then perhaps he would reward her by spending some more time alone with her.

Her shoulders and arms began to ache. It was a familiar sensation. In all her fantasies about submission she had never been able to imagine what the pain would be like. Tying herself to her bed had only been a pale imitation of what the real feelings were like. They were much worse, so by the same token, much better.

It was about ten minutes before the bedroom door opened. Martin entered holding a glass of brandy. ‘Andrea, right?’

‘Yes, sir.’ She wasn’t sure whether to call him master, but as Julia had called him ‘sir’ she thought she better follow her example.

‘You can sit down. Sit on the edge of the bed. I’m going to take a shower.’ He went into the adjoining bathroom, but didn’t close the door, so Andrea heard him peeing, then the noise of the shower.

When he returned he was wearing a short white towelling robe, and his black hair was wet. He sat on the bed beside Andrea. ‘Look, this is really quite a shock,’ he confided. ‘I’m not sure I want to do anything.’ He was looking at her jutting breasts. ‘Doesn’t it hurt you to be tied up like that?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she said.

‘Please drop the “sir”. I don’t like it. I could untie you, if you like.’ But he didn’t. Instead he continued to stare at her, his eyes running over her body, examining the sheer black stockings and the way the waspie bit into her waist. ‘Unbelievable,’ he said to himself, then very tentatively he extended his hand and touched her nearest breast. ‘You’ve got really great tits,’ he said, rather clumsily.

‘Thank you.’ Andrea felt sorry for him. He’d been plunged into the deep end. He had clearly no inkling of the world his uncle had created, and from his very obvious shock and surprise she doubted he had ever shown the slightest inclination towards his uncle’s more outlandish appetites.

‘You’ll do anything I say, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Lie back then; can you do that?’

Andrea wriggled herself back onto the bed. With her arms bound behind her back so tightly it was not easy.

He knelt up beside her. With one hand on her knee he pulled her legs apart and stared at her sex. She knew it would be wet. The bondage had seen to that.

His hand slid up her thigh, over the opaque stocking top, on to her thigh. As she was lying on her arms her buttocks were raised and her sex was angled upward. Gently he prodded a finger into it.

‘You’re turned on, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’ She desperately wanted to add the word ‘master’.

His finger moved up and down. ‘Christ,’ he said in a whisper, shaking his head as if he could not believe what he was doing.

‘Ms Angelis told me to tell you there’s equipment in the chest of drawers over there,’ Andrea said.

‘Equipment?’

‘Harnesses, whips, toys...’

‘Oh.’ He looked alarmed. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do with them.’

‘I could show you, if that’s what you want.’

‘To tell you the truth, Andrea, I’m not sure what I want. This is all like a big surprise. I’ve never really had much to do with my uncle before. Suddenly he invites me down here a day after my twenty-first birthday, and presents me with all this. Apparently my father had a house like this too. I never imagined such things existed. I mean, I’m not a virgin, but I’ve always been straight.’

His finger probed the mouth of her vagina. ‘Does that feel good?’

‘Yes,’ Andrea whispered.

‘Why are you here? Why do you let him do this to you?’

‘Because it’s what I’ve always wanted,’ Andrea said, with total conviction.

He shook his head in disbelief. Andrea noticed there was a large bulge tenting the front of the robe.

‘You’re very beautiful.’ He pushed another finger alongside the first, sinking them both to the knuckle. Then he pulled them out again. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this,’ he said decisively. He jumped up off the bed and started to head towards the bathroom, but after two steps he stopped and turned around, looking at Andrea again. His face was creased with worry.

Suddenly he tore the towelling robe off and jumped back on the bed. He rolled on top of Andrea and she felt his erection poking between her legs. Martin kissed her fiercely, crushing his lips against hers and forcing his tongue into her mouth as he bucked his hips and his cock slid into the wet tube of her sex.

She gasped, the sound muffled by his mouth.

Still kissing her, squirming his mouth down on hers, he pumped his cock into her two or three times. Then he stopped as suddenly as he’d begun.

‘No,’ he whispered. He tore his mouth away from hers and buried his face in her throat, his body as rigid as a board. He remained completely still for long seconds, obviously battling with himself, and then Andrea felt his cock twitch inside her violently, his semen erupting into her body.

‘Oh, Christ,’ he groaned, rolling off her immediately. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It’s always happening to me.’

He stood up, his expression anguished. His cock was softening rapidly, his foreskin shrinking back over his glans. ‘Look, I’m really sorry. It was a terrible idea. I’ve always had this problem with women. I shouldn’t have done that. What do I do, get Laurie to take you back?’

‘It’s all right,’ she soothed. She supposed she should have kept silent, but if she didn’t say something, if he called Laurie and had her returned to the stables she guessed Hawksworth would not be pleased. If she was going to impress her master she had to help his nephew. She struggled to sit up, her breasts trembling. ‘Don’t send me back yet.’

‘It’s no good, Andrea. I thought...’

‘Will you let me help?’

‘What can you do?’

Andrea wasn’t at all sure. But she wanted to try. If she could get him aroused again she thought there was a chance his ejaculation but not be so premature next time.

‘Untie me.’ It sounded strange for her to be saying those words, but she couldn’t do what she had in mind with her hands tied behind her back. She twisted around and presented her arms to him.

With obvious reluctance Martin unstrapped her elbows, then unbuckled one of the cuffs. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘wouldn’t it just be better if we called it a day?’

‘Let me know if you think that in ten minutes’ time.’ She rubbed the circulation back into her arms. ‘Come with me,’ she said, taking his hand.

She led him into the bathroom. It was tiled in grey marble with a free-standing bath and a separate shower cubicle.

‘I’ve just had a shower,’ he pointed out.

‘I know. But we’re going to have a bath. Together.’ She bent over the white bathtub and turned on the mixer taps. There was a large selection of bath oils in a cupboard above the washbasin, and she poured some into the steaming water. It was the first time she had acted independently in weeks, and it felt unfamiliar. ‘Undo my stockings, will you?’

She put her foot up on the bath and he unclipped the four suspenders, his hands trembling slightly. She made him take her shoes off too. ‘Now the corset.’

She turned her back on him again and felt his fingers fumbling with the hooks and eyes.

‘Come on.’ She turned off the water, climbed into the bath, and he followed, sitting opposite her.

‘What now?’ he asked, looking apprehensive.

‘Give me your foot.’

He raised one out of the fragrant water. She took hold of it and pushed it down between her legs. ‘Use your toe,’ she said.

‘My toe?’ He looked puzzled, then caught on. Without looking very enthusiastic about the idea he pushed his toe into her sex. It was already hot and wet.

‘Christ,’ he said.

‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’ she said, squirming down on him.

‘So hot.’

‘Mmm...’ She snaked her own foot over his thigh and pushed it into his crotch. His cock was floating in the water, already beginning to engorge again. ‘Put your other foot on my breasts,’ she suggested.

This time there was no hesitation as he did as she said. Andrea felt his cock twitch. ‘Now the other one,’ she said.

He transferred his foot to her right breast. This time he flicked her nipple with his big toe as well.

She took his foot in her hand and pulled it up to her mouth, sucking his toes, which produced another sharp twitch in his cock. She could feel the blood beginning to pump back into it and pressed it back against his belly with the sole of her foot, rubbing it up and down.

‘Feels good...’ he murmured dreamily.

‘You’re getting hard again.’

‘I know. That doesn’t usually happen so quickly.’

‘Perhaps you’ve never given yourself a chance before.’

She sucked his big toe, making his cock jerk against her instep. It was fully erect now.

‘Come on then,’ she said. ‘That’s only the beginning.’

‘What do we do now?’

‘You’ll see.’

She stood up, his toe slipping from her vagina. She grabbed a large white towel from the heated rail next to the bath and wrapped it around his body as he stepped out. She rubbed him aggressively until she got to his cock, which she dried with the gentlest of touches.

‘Now you can do me,’ she said.

He rubbed the towel over her body as vigorously as she’d done to him, then knelt and dried her legs, his erection brushing against his belly. She turned around so he could do her buttocks. He pushed the towel down between her legs.

She took his hand and led him back into the bedroom. ‘Lie down,’ she said. ‘Open your legs.’ He did as he was told, and she knelt on the bed between his thighs and took his cock in her hands.

‘Don’t,’ he said, sitting up. ‘I’ll only come again...’

‘When you’ve been with other girls, Martin, what did you do?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘After you’d come the first time?’

‘I took them home.’

Andrea smiled. ‘I used to have a boyfriend with the same problem. He was young, like you. The younger you are the quicker your recovery rate. You can see that for yourself; you’re as hard as you were before. Instead of running away you should persist. You won’t come as quickly this time, I promise. You’re nice and relaxed from our hot bath, so just lie back and trust me.’

Martin gave her a quizzical look, then lay back on the bed again. Andrea wrapped her fingers around his cock and began to wank him gently. His cock was hard and smooth. She pulled his foreskin back and lent forward to slip his glans between her lips.

‘No...’ he gasped.

As she sucked him into her mouth his cock began throbbing violently. She saw the muscles of his thighs tighten, and for a moment she thought her theory was going to be proved wrong. His hands clawed the linen sheets, clutching like his life depended on it, and he was panting for breath. But the crisis passed. The throbbing stopped and his breathing became more regular. She saw the tension leave his muscles.

Tentatively Andrea swallowed his whole cock, feeding it to the back of her throat, then very slowly she began sliding it in and out of her mouth.

‘Yes...’ he said this time, very quietly.

She increased her pace, sucking his shaft a little harder.

‘Yes...’ he repeated, but much more firmly this time.

She pulled away, holding his cock in her hand.

‘It’s working,’ he gasped, smiling enthusiastically. ‘I think you’re right.’

‘So do you want to try the big test?’

The smile disappeared. He looked into her eyes. ‘I suppose I’ve got this far...’

‘Good.’ She straddled his hips, her sex poised above his cock. Reaching behind her back she took hold of it and guided against her labia.

Martin moaned. She felt his cock twitch. ‘It’s so hot,’ he said.

‘Just try,’ she coaxed. She lowered herself onto him. As he slid into the silky wetness of her cunt she felt him throbbing almost as violently as it had done before. Again his muscles locked. His hands grabbed her thighs, his fingers digging into them like steel claws.

Andrea was motionless. If he came again now she doubted he would give her a second chance. But slowly she felt the urgent throbbing subside. His hands relaxed, then almost imperceptibly at first he began pumping into her. Gradually each stroke got stronger, more confident, his hips lifting off the bed.

‘Slowly,’ she chided as he began powering into her.

‘You were right,’ he grunted. The smile had returned to his face. ‘This is fantastic! I never knew how good it could feel.’

‘You’re very hard,’ she said, her own body responding now she wasn’t so worried about him.

‘This is so good,’ he drawled. ‘Let me get on top.’ Before Andrea could do anything he pulled her down on top of him, wrapped his arms around her and rolled over. He managed to accomplish the manoeuvre without pulling out of her, and as soon as she was on her back he began fucking her again, with even more energy than before. His body was fit and strong, his muscles toned.

‘Oh yes,’ Andrea moaned into his ear.

He went on and on, his cock ploughing into her. She raised her legs, pulling her knees back to allow him even deeper access.

‘It’s fantastic,’ he breathed again. His cock began to throb anew. She knew he was going to come but it didn’t matter. He was in control of his ejaculation now. ‘I’m going to come,’ he groaned.

‘Yes, let me feel it.’

His cock jerked violently and she felt jets of spunk spitting deep into her body, as hot and as copious as they were before.

But this time, instead of pulling away the moment his ejaculation ended, he remained where he was, panting for breath, his cock still buried inside her.

‘Great,’ he panted, with real pride in his achievement. ‘Great.’

He kissed her gently, affectionately, sinking his tongue into her mouth. She responded, but her excitement was muted. She had helped Martin for her own reasons, but if she needed confirmation of her proclivities, her own arousal had not reached the heights she achieved when bound and helpless.

‘You feel so good,’ Martin murmured, and to Andrea’s amazement she felt his cock begin to stiffen again. He gazed down at her, his eyes sparkling mischievously. ‘And like you said; a rapid recovery rate.’

He started gently easing in and out of her again, but after a few moments he stopped and rolled off her. He took his cock in his hand and squeezed. ‘So now it’s your turn,’ he said. He got up. His whole attitude had changed. He was no longer diffident and hesitant.

‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to...’

Martin smiled. ‘I know I don’t have to,’ he said. ‘What do you call my uncle?’

‘Master,’ Andrea said. The word gave her a pang of arousal.

‘Master. And you are his slave?’

Andrea nodded.

‘And you submit to his will, is that it?’

She nodded again.

‘Well you better start calling me, master.’

‘Yes... master.’ She felt another distinct thrill deep in her core. Martin’s voice was suddenly stern.

‘That’s better. Now get on your knees on the floor by the bed. Start behaving like a slave or I’ll get one of the other girls up here.’ It was as though he was trying out a new role for himself, seeing whether he was comfortable with it, and it appeared he was. She had given him back his masculinity and now he was going to give her back her thraldom. Andrea lowered herself to the floor immediately.

Martin went over to the chest of drawers. ‘This looks interesting,’ he decided. ‘Put it on,’ and he threw a leather harness on the floor in front of her.

She picked it up. The thin leather straps consisted of a bra-shaped top, which fitted around her breasts but not over them. Extending down from the straps under each breast, two more formed a long ‘V’ that looped into a metal ring over the wearer’s sex. From the bottom of this ring two thinner straps were pulled under the crotch and up into the cleft of the buttocks, were they were fixed into an identical metal ring at the small of the back. A thick strap then travelled from this up the spine, where it split into two and connected to the shoulder straps of the bra. All the straps had buckles so they could be adjusted to fit snugly.

Andrea struggled into it while Martin watched. ‘That’s much better,’ he said, when she’d finally buckled all the straps tightly. ‘You can stand up now.’

She obeyed immediately. The tight leather harness was not restrictive of movement, but they reminded her of her bondage, the smell of the leather provoking an instant reaction deep in her sex.

Martin produced a length of white rope from the drawer. ‘This is what you want, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, master.’ It was exactly what she wanted.

‘Come here, then; you don’t think I’m going to walk over to you, do you?’ He was growing into his role and beginning to enjoy it. His cock had not flagged and still stood from his belly at right angles. Andrea walked over to him.

‘Hands out in front of you.’ He looped the rope around her wrists, and then between them, leaving a length of it trailing. He pulled her forward by it until they reached the armchair. ‘Stand behind it,’ he ordered.

Andrea was on familiar territory once again. Martin was growing in confidence in his new role and his confidence was matched by her excitement. He dropped the end of the rope onto the chair and went back to the chest of drawers, returning quickly.

‘I’m going to gag you now,’ he told her.

‘Yes, master.’ Andrea savoured a sharp thrill of excitement. She loved being gagged, having her mouth stretched open and invaded. She could suck on a gag and pretend it was her master’s cock.

Martin pushed the rubber ball-gag between her lips and secured it with a leather strap around her head, tying it tight. She felt his hot erection pulsing against her buttocks as he did so. Then suddenly something descended over her eyes. It was a black leather blindfold.

‘No...’ she sighed, almost to herself.

‘Oh yes.’ She felt him kneeling at her feet. ‘Legs apart.’ As she obeyed his hands grabbed her ankle. He was wrapping a leather cuff around it. The cuff must have been attached to some sort of bar, because when he’d finished with both ankles she could not close her legs again.

‘I could get to like this,’ he mused. She heard him moving around in front of her, then stop. She was sure he was admiring his handiwork. A few minutes before she’d been naked; now she was trussed up in black leather and rope, an icon of fetishism.

She felt a tug on the rope, pulling her forward. She bent over the back of the chair. He pulled until her head was lowered to within a few inches of the seat. He passed the rope under the chair and tied it off to the bar that spread her legs apart.

‘Is this how you should be treated?’

Andrea nodded. The bondage had induced a level of arousal that was making her feel intensely elated. She was completely helpless and vulnerable again, her sex exposed and available, her limbs rendered useless. She could feel the leather harness biting into her flesh, particularly the two thin straps on either side of her labia, and the tight white rope that ensnared her wrists. The darkness seemed to concentrate all her feelings and magnify them.

‘Let’s see you struggle then,’ he goaded. ‘Come on. I want to make sure I’ve done a good job.’

Andrea pulled with her arms and tried to kick her legs free of the leather cuffs, but though she could wriggle and writhe from side to side, she could not escape the position he’d tied her in.

‘That’s very sexy. I like watching you do that. I’m beginning to think there’s something in all this after all.’

She felt his hand touch her buttocks. In this position her sex was pursed between them, turned up towards him and spread open. His fingers slipped into her slit briefly, and she moaned as they nudged against her clit.

‘Downstairs, when I whipped that girl, I felt something,’ he pondered aloud. ‘Perhaps I inherited it from my father. Do you think that’s possible?’

She mumbled around the gag.

‘So I’m going to whip you now, Andrea. It doesn’t seem fair, but I’m going to do it because I know that’s what you want. It is what you want, isn’t it?’

She shook her head, though she wasn’t sure why. She had been whipped many times now, and it always brought pain. But there was also almost indescribable pleasure, too.

She heard him walk away. A few seconds later she heard a tap running. He had gone to the bathroom, but why?

He came back into the bedroom. He touched the small of her back. His hand was wet. She sensed him raise his other hand. Drops of water landed on her back. She heard a whistle of air and then a searing line of pain explode right across the rump of her buttocks. The pain was like no other she’d experienced.

‘We used to do this at school,’ he chuckled. ‘Wet towel, in case you’re wondering.’

The sodden weapon landed again. Andrea screamed into the gag. She felt her buttocks quivering.

The third blow was the strongest of them all, but the pain was beginning to turn to that hot pleasure she craved. This time the sound muffled by the gag was much more of a moan of delight than a whimper of pain. She felt her clitoris pulse and realised her body was undulating as she pushed her belly down against the back of the chair.

She heard Martin drop the towel aside. He gripped her hips and immediately shunted his cock into the depths of her cunt. She was hot and incredibly wet, his two ejaculations adding to her own viscous juices. As he ploughed into her for the third time she strained against the bonds that held her so tightly, wanting to remind herself that this time she was not free, that she was a slave again and not able to do anything for herself. But if she was a slave again, she knew she was not allowed to come without permission.

He held himself deep inside her and reached round for her breasts, pinching both nipples. Her body responded by clenching her sex tightly around his shaft.

He straightened up again and pulled his cock back slowly, before sinking it in again, grinding his hips from side to side as if to screw himself into her, provoking a surge of sensations that made her shudder animatedly... and she simply couldn’t stop herself from coming.

‘Yeah... I want to feel you come,’ he growled, and that was all the permission she needed. Instantly her sex seemed to melt around him. Every muscle in her body seemed to soften, her body turning to molten liquid.

Martin pulled out of her. He was still erect. ‘Well now,’ he said, as he bent to loosen the rope around her wrists. ‘I think it’s time I met one of the other girls...’

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

She had to be helped up the narrow steps into the helicopter. It would have been impossible for her to do it by herself. Her high-heels were too high for one thing, and for another her hands were bound to her sides so she couldn’t use her arms for balance.

Laurie pushed her forward into the cabin, then settled her in one of the seats, doing up her seatbelt for her.

Andrea was wearing a black suit and a white silk blouse. The skirt of the suit was a rather unusual design. There were two small slits on each side that to a casual glance looked like pockets, but they weren’t. Small metal links attached to leather cuffs that were buckled tightly around Andrea’s wrists, passed through the slits and were secured to leather bands wrapped around Andrea’s thighs. The bondage made it impossible for her to move her hands from her sides. Another clever piece of tailoring allowed the cuffs of the jacket to hide the leather wrist-cuffs, the metal link covered by a vent in the sleeve.

The helicopter engine began to increase in pitch. The same steward who had served her what seemed a lifetime ago, ducked into the cabin through the internal door. He was holding two pairs of headphones. He fitted one over Andrea’s head, barely giving her a second glance, then handed the other pair to Laurie.

‘Can I get you anything else, Ms Angelis?’

‘No.’

‘Off to town?’ he said politely.

‘Yes.’

He disappeared as Laurie fitted the headphones over her ears.

Andrea hadn’t seen Martin since the night before, or her master. She hoped she was being taken to the latter now.

The helicopter banked and rose over the house. It headed east, soon tracking alongside a motorway towards London. It reached the city in less than fifteen minutes, and then turned north. After another ten minutes it banked again and began to head for a tall building, its windows made from opaque black glass that reflected the sun.

As it got closer Andrea saw a circle painted on the flat roof. The helicopter hovered over it for a moment, then landed with a gentle bump. The engine noise dropped to a loud hum. Andrea felt a thrill of anticipation. Darrington International had its headquarters in a large office block in North London.

Laurie took off her headphones and undid her seatbelt. She leant across and did the same for Andrea. ‘Up.’

Andrea got to her feet. Laurie descended the steps first, then supported Andrea as she climbed down too. She took her by the arm and led her over to a metal staircase, which led down to a lower platform and into the main building.

Once inside the noise of the rotor blades dropped to a gentle hum again. ‘That’s better,’ Laurie said.

They were standing in a small hallway in front of a single door, elaborately carved with an art deco design of wavy lines. Laurie took out a key from her small clutch bag and unlocked it.

‘Follow me,’ she said. Beyond was a much larger corridor with two banks of lifts. The floor was polished ash and a huge abstract tapestry dominated the space, its primary colours so bright they seemed to vibrate.

Opposite the lifts were two double doors, carved with the same designs as on the smaller door. Laurie guided Andrea over to them and opened one, pushing her forward.

Andrea found herself in a large room. One entire wall was glass from floor to ceiling, and presented a spectacular view over London. She could see the National Westminster Building and the City to the right, St Paul’s and the Houses of Parliament.

There were eight desks manned by female staff typing on computers. Two walls were lined by black filing cabinets, and in the third was another carved door which Laurie led Andrea to. If anyone of the secretaries noticed anything strange about her, none of them gave the slightest hint. Laurie opened the door.

‘Good morning, my dear. Come in, come in. I’m sorry to bring you all this way, but business must take precedence over pleasure on some occasions.’

Charles Hawksworth was sitting behind a curved rosewood desk. The office also had a floor to ceiling window, but there was little in the way of furniture. Apart from the desk there were two chairs in front of it, and a sofa and cocktail cabinet against one wall, all in classical art deco designs.

‘That will be all, Laurie, thank you,’ he said. She closed the door, leaving them alone.

‘Come over here,’ he said, waving her forward. She tottered a little, not only because her heels were high, but also because the knee-length pencil skirt was tight and only allowed her to take diminutive steps.

‘Sit down.’ He indicated one of the chairs in front of his desk, then when back to a telephone conversation.

Awkwardly Andrea managed to sit down. She watched Hawksworth as he talked, his eyes flashing as he made a point, his fingers and beautifully manicured nails making small gestures to emphasis what he said. He had a quality of authority, whether here sitting in his office, at the very centre of his empire, or in bed commanding her to obey his slightest whim.

The telephone call ended. ‘Well, my dear,’ he said, getting to his feet and moving around the desk. ‘I hope you had a pleasant flight?’

‘Yes, master.’

‘Good.’ He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. The touch made her start. ‘I am very pleased with you, Andrea. Very pleased. Martin has given me a glowing report. He seemed to think you were very special, too. So I have decided to embark on the final part of your training straight away.’

‘Thank you, master.’

His hands slid down under her jacket to her breasts, cupping and lifting them slightly.

‘First there is some urgent business I have to attend to, but once that’s over...’ He squeezed her breasts sharply, then let go, returning to his desk with the flicker of a smile on his lips. As he sat down the telephone rang again.

‘Yes?’ He listened, then began to talk in rapid and fluent French.

The door opened and one of the girls from the outer office walked in. She had blonde hair, and wore a short black skirt and sleeveless blue blouse. Her legs were spectacular, slender and contoured, her calves and buttocks firmed by the fact she was wearing high-heels. She was carrying a file of papers.

She totally ignored Andrea and stood at the side of Hawksworth’s desk, waiting for him to finish his call.

‘Yes, Diana?’ he said, as he put the phone down.

‘The French contract you wanted, sir,’ she said, handing him the file.

‘Thank you. Has Lloyd arrived yet?’

‘Yes, sir, and Mr Highfield.’

‘Good. Tell them I’ll be with them in a few minutes. And take Andrea in with you.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Go with her, Andrea,’ he said.

She rose, and felt herself blushing; struggling to her feet without being able to use her hands it was quite obvious that her wrists were bound to her sides, even though the means by which this was done was not visible. But the girl was clearly not in the least bit shocked. She took Andrea’s arm and guided her across the office. There was a single door in the wall opposite Hawksworth’s desk, which she opened and led Andrea through.

The room beyond was similar to Hawksworth’s office, with the same huge window and decorated in very much the same style. There was an oval conference table surrounded by twenty chairs, but the room was dominated by an oil painting depicting a riverside picnic; although it was no ordinary picnic. All the participants, with one exception, were female, and were all in various stages of undress, some wearing just skirts or just blouses, others naked but for stockings and frilly garters, while others wore tightly-laced corsets. Their attention was centred on the single male who sat at a picnic table being served an array of food by them. He wore a scarlet robe and had a large wolfhound at his feet.

‘Over here,’ Diana said.

There was a table standing against one of the walls, upon which was a coffee machine, a variety of soft drinks, cups, saucers, large tumblers and paper napkins. Next to the table was an odd-looking metal device which Andrea had first taken to be some sort of modern sculpture. Sticking out about a foot from the wall, but attached to it by a solid metal spike, was a flat matt-black spine of metal about six-foot tall. Close to the top of it was a circle of metal. There was another larger ring at waist level too. The bottom was crossed by a horizontal bar, extending for about two feet on either side. At each end of this bar was another much small metal ring.

The girl went to the odd contraption, and as Andrea caught her up she could see that each of the metal circles had a little lock at the front, and could be hinged open.

Diana opened all four rings. ‘Stand here,’ she said, and before Andrea could obey she caught hold of her arm and pulled her around so her back was against the vertical metal bar. ‘Head up,’ she ordered.

With practised ease she closed one metal ring around Andrea’s throat and locked it underneath her chin, forcing her to keep her head up, her vision immediately restricted. She certainly couldn’t look down to watch the girl snapping the larger ring around her waist, nor pulling her legs apart so her ankles could be secured into the two rings on the horizontal bar. The latter was the most difficult to accomplish, as the tight skirt prevent Andrea’s legs being spread far enough apart and the girl had to wriggle the skirt up her thighs before both ankles could be accommodated.

Andrea was completely helpless. With her hands still secured to her thighs, and her neck, waist and ankles encompassed by steel, she could not move.

Diana studied her critically for a moment. She unbuttoned her jacket and folded it back. The material of the blouse was thin and Andrea’s breasts were clearly visible under it.

‘Rather you than me,’ she said, an expression that could be best interpreted as a sneer.

Her high-highs clacked as she walked across the polished wooden floor, her pert round bottom swaying sexily, and as Andrea watched her she realised she was feeling a pang of desire. It was the first time she’d felt that for another female unprompted, and it shocked her.

She had no time to dwell on that, however. Almost before the sound of the girl’s shoes had died away a tall bearded man walked in carrying a black briefcase. He was followed by an older, shorter man, who walked with a slight limp, and had a shock of unruly white hair. They closed the door and walked to the conference table, glancing at Andrea briefly, very much as if she were merely an interesting piece of the furniture. They talked in a language Andrea thought might be Swedish. The bearded man took a pile of papers out of his briefcase and then set it on the floor. Both men then started going through the papers.

The door opened again, and Edward Highfield entered. He smiled at her briefly, then turned his attention to the other two men, shaking their hands and greeting them effusively.

Behind him two younger men came in, both in smart grey suits. They shook hands with the others and sat down at the table, and it was only then, apparently, that they noticed Andrea. They stared at her with obvious surprise, but clearly neither dared make any comment to the others.

Diana returned carrying some files, and put them down at the head of the table just as Charles Hawksworth entered. He sat where the files we placed, and Diana sat to his left with a notebook and pen.

‘There’s coffee over there,’ he said, waving a hand towards Andrea and the table beside her. ‘Please feel free. Later we have lunch for you in our executive dining room, and I think you’ll find our chef to be excellent. Now, to business.’

They began discussing a deal for the acquisition of a patent in an electronic circuit which the bearded man appeared to own. Weeks before, when she worked for Silverton, Andrea might have found the details quite fascinating, but now all she could think of was what her master had said to her. The final stage of her training? What could that mean? And was he coming with her? She yearned to be alone with him again.

The metal frame was extremely uncomfortable, particular the collar around her neck, which was too high and dug into her chin. Her legs were cramping too. Diana had only pulled the skirt up far enough to allow her to place Andrea’s ankles into the metal rings. The hem of the skirt was still tight and bit into her thighs, just as the metal dug painfully into her ankles.

One of the younger men got to his feet and walked over to the coffee table. He appeared to not be looking at her, but stole furtive glances as he approached. Standing pouring himself a coffee he allowed himself a longer look, his eyes dwelling on her breasts and her legs, the skirt pulled up enough to reveal a hint of the leather that banded her thighs.

While Highfield and the bearded man discussed some aspect of the contract in detail, Hawksworth looked his way. ‘Beautiful, isn’t she?’ he said, getting to his feet. He came over and put his arm around the young man’s shoulder.

‘Yes, very.’

‘You haven’t been here before, have you?’

‘No, Mr Hawksworth.’

‘Artists spend a great deal of time trying to create things of beauty. But women are more beautiful than anything they can create, in my opinion. Other people have sculptures in their offices, but I prefer the real thing.’ He looked at the young man seriously. ‘And like all good sculptures she deserves to be touched, don’t you think?’

‘Touched?’

‘Of course. Go ahead. Stroke her. Feel her.’ He smiled. ‘She’s in no position to bite.’

The man’s hand was trembling so much he had to put his cup of coffee down. He was clearly intimidated by Hawksworth’s charismatic personality, and even if he wanted to refuse the invitation, saw no way of doing it without incurring Hawksworth’s displeasure.

He moved over to stand in front of Andrea, and she watched his hand moving towards her. His fingers trailed down over her breasts, and he blushed.

‘Gary,’ the bearded man called, and the young man hastily returned to the table, clearly relieved to have an excuse to get away. Hawksworth ambled back too, a look of amusement on his face.

They were soon all engaged in conversation again. The discomfort for Andrea increased. She wished she could edge the skirt up her thighs an inch or two to relieve the pressure on her legs, and tried to use her fingertips to tug on it, but it made very little difference, unable to get a good grip. She found though, that if she ground her bottom she could get some momentarily relief, transferring the worst of the cramp from one leg to the other, but it was only momentary and she had to be careful that no one noticed what she was doing.

‘Well gentleman, I think it’s time for lunch,’ Hawksworth eventually announced.

The chairs moved back as the five men and one woman got up from the conference table. Still chatting they headed for the door, the bearded man leading, followed by the other three, leaving Highfield and Hawksworth alone for a moment.

‘I think it’s going well,’ Highfield said.

‘Two million less than we’d budgeted for; that’s impressive,’ Hawksworth agreed. ‘Come on, let’s eat.’

‘Do you mind if I have a word with Andrea first?’

‘Of course not. If it hadn’t been for you I’d never have found her. I’m very grateful; she’s perfect. I have high hopes for her.’

‘Are you going to put her into the System?’

‘That’s her decision. She has to complete her training first. You know what Marie-Claire’s like.’

Hawksworth patted Highfield on the arm, then walked out of the door, closing it after him.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t say hello earlier,’ he said as he walked over to her. ‘You’re looking suitably uncomfortable.’ He stood directly in front of her and took her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it hard. ‘Are you excited?’

‘Yes, master.’

‘I bet you are.’ He took hold of her skirt and tugged it further up her thighs. The relief was enormous for her. His hand snaked up between her legs to her sex. She felt him pushing a finger against her clit, and she gasped.

‘If Hawksworth puts you into the System I’m going to bid for you, Andrea,’ he told her. ‘You’re the most exciting young woman I’ve ever met.’

She could see a bulge tenting the front of his trousers. Pulling his hand away he wrapped his arm around her waist, encompassing the vertical metal bar, and embraced her, his erection pressed into her flat belly.

‘I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you all morning,’ he breathed into her ear, his lips brushing her cheek. He was undulating his hips so the ridge of his cock slid up and down against her soft flesh. ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about being with you again. None of the other girls...’

Suddenly he threw back his head and gave a little gasp. Even through the layers of material that separated them she could feel his cock pulsing. He pressed harder, then pulled away. There was a damp stain spreading across the front of his navy-blue trousers.

‘See what you do to me?’ he said.

He took some of the paper napkins from the coffee table and tried to wipe the mark away, but giving up the effort he hurried across the room and left without another word.

Andrea hadn’t given much thought to what her master had said about the System before. But it was puzzling her. She knew he’d spoken of her having to make a choice at the end of her training, but he’d not explained anything about what that choice would be. From what he’d said to Highfield it seemed she’d be offered a chance to enter the System. But what it meant and how it worked she could only guess. Highfield had said he would bid for her, and she didn’t know what that meant either, though the thought of being with him again was not one she cared to contemplate too much.

The door of the conference room opened again, and Gary slipped back in. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

He pulled one of the chairs out from the conference table, carried it over to her. He examined the metal collar around her throat. He touched the lock on the front of the ring and it sprung open, Andrea gasping with relief. She stretched her neck back and forward, easing her cramped muscles.

Gary sat on the chair. He stared at her thighs and began rubbing the front of his trousers. ‘Why don’t you say anything?’ he asked.

‘I’m only supposed to talk when I’m spoken to, sir,’ she explained.

‘You’re so obedient. Hawksworth said I could touch you. Hawksworth says you’re whipped; on your bum and tits. Is that true?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Gary looked nervous and uncertain. Andrea could see a distinct bulge pushing against the front of his trousers too, but it looked as though he were wrestling with himself as to what he should do. He looked from her thighs, up to her breasts, then back down to her legs.

Suddenly he appeared to make his mind up. He rose to his feet and unzipped his trousers. His cock sprang out between the tails of his shirt. He took it in his hand and began to wank aggressively.

He cupped one of her breasts. He moaned. He moved his hand down over her flat tummy and then up under her skirt. She felt a finger prodding into her labia. It found the opening of her vagina and pushed up into her.

‘You’re so wet,’ he drawled. ‘Is that because you’re excited?’

Hawksworth had clearly given these men free rein when it came to her. Like Martin last night, serving them was a way of pleasing her master, so she wanted to make sure Gary was impressed. ‘I’m very excited,’ she whispered.

‘Why?’

‘Because I want to take you in my mouth,’ she said, and it was true. She felt her sex clench around his finger.

‘Really?’

‘Do you want to whip me? Would you like that?’ Strictly speaking she should have been silent, but she thought the ends justified the means. This was what her master wanted, she was sure.

‘Yes,’ he said. His hand was moving up and down his cock like a piston.

‘Whip my tits, then fuck me. Would you like to do that, Gary?’

Suddenly his body went rigid. He just managed to twist to one side so the arc of spunk that jetted out of his cock missed spattering her skirt and blouse, and landed instead on the floor. His body shuddered and he let out a long low groan.

‘Oh, God,’ he said, the moment he was capable of saying anything. He looked at his watch, then at Andrea. Quickly he pulled his finger from her vagina and snapped the metal ring shut again, forcing her chin up as before. He examined her clothes to make sure none of his spunk had landed on her, then grabbed paper napkins and mopped up his mess, dumping them in the waste bin under the table just as the door of the conference room opened again.

‘Your penis,’ she whispered, and he looked down in alarm. His cock was still hanging from his fly. He pushed it back in and zipped himself back up.

‘Well, gentlemen, shall we get on?’ Hawksworth said, walking back into the room.

 

The meeting lasted a further hour. Andrea saw Gary glance at her surreptitiously from time to time, but other than that the men ignored her. Hawksworth brought the meeting to a close, declaring himself satisfied with the deal struck and shaking hands with the bearded man.

All five then left the room again, talking animatedly of future successes, leaving Diana to clear up the papers and files left on the table. But the blonde didn’t say anything to Andrea, either. She stacked the files, picked them up and carried them out of the room.

Andrea’s body ached from standing still for so long, though her legs were not so uncomfortable since Hawksworth had pulled up her skirt. The effort of keeping her head up was making the muscles in her neck cramp, and she was beginning to get a burning desire to go to the loo. But her overriding feeling was still anticipation. She had no idea what was going to happen next, but from what Hawksworth had said it sounded as though he was going to be going with her.

The silence continued. The pressure in her bladder became worse. She tried to think about Hawksworth and what he’d said, but the desire to pee was now increasing exponentially, making it hard to think of anything else. As Hawksworth was such an expert in devising humiliations for his slaves, she wondered if this was another one; that he would send Diana in to find her standing in a pool of her own pee. But that would surely be a punishment, and after what he’d said about Martin it didn’t make sense that he should want to punish her.

She wriggled and squirmed, trying to find a position that would put less pressure on her belly. It would have helped her if she could close her legs.

Eventually the door opened again and Diana returned. ‘Did you think we’d forgotten about you?’ she said, in a mocking tone.

‘Please,’ Andrea gasped, ‘I need to go to the loo.’

‘I thought you were not supposed to speak unless spoken to.’

‘Please, it’s urgent.’

‘I bet.’ In no particular hurry Diana unclipped the metal collar at Andrea’s neck. She ran her hand down over Andrea’s tensed tummy. ‘Bad, is it?’ she taunted.

‘Yes.’ The metal band around her waist was opened, then the one on her left ankle. Andrea pressed her legs together, but the relief was only momentary. She still needed to pee.

‘Come on then,’ Diana said, walking across the room, and Andrea tottered after her, each step jolting her bladder and making the need worse. There was a small door to the right of the room which lead into a corridor. Halfway along were two toilet doors, and Diana held the women’s one open and allowed Andrea to go through first.

She hurried into one of the cubicles, but even though her skirt was partially hitched up around her hips she still needed to pull it up further, a feat she could not perform with her hands still bound to her thighs. She tried to inch her skirt up with her fingers, but the process was altogether too slow.

‘I need help,’ she pleaded.

‘Help, from me?’ Diana said, sardonically. She wandered over to the cubicle and held the door open.

‘Please,’ Andrea said, straining her hands against the leather cuffs so Diana would see the problem.

‘Must be terribly difficult.’

‘Please help me.’

The links that joined the leather cuffs to her thighs had a small snap-lock, which Diana opened, allowing the skirt to be hoisted up over her buttocks.

Andrea sank onto the loo. A stream of pee escaped her with terrific force. Diana stood watching, her eyes locked to Andrea’s sex, the cubicle door still open.

‘Must be bad,’ she mused. ‘I’ve always wondered what it would be like. To be so helpless, I mean; to be so totally dependent on others. You can’t even pee if Hawksworth doesn’t allow it.’ Diana’s body shuddered slightly. She was rubbing her forearms against her breasts. ‘Is it exciting?’

Eventually the stream stopped, and Andrea wiped herself with toilet tissue. ‘Yes.’

‘Aren’t you going to thank me?’ Diana asked.

‘Thank you,’ Andrea replied.

‘No, not like that,’ Diana said. She closed the cubicle door. ‘I think I deserve something a little more intimate. I saw the way you were looking at me this morning. Do you know I’ve never tried it with a woman, but looking at you, I think it’s time for a little experiment. Naturally you’re not going to mention it to Mr Hawksworth, are you?’

‘What do you want me to do?’ Andrea asked.

‘Kiss me.’ Diana held Andrea by the shoulders and pushed her back against the cubicle wall. Very tentatively she kissed her on the lips, but slowly she increased the pressure, her tongue slipping into Andrea’s mouth. She crushed her body against her too, her belly grinding from side to side, their breasts squashed together. Andrea felt a jolt of excitement. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but she didn’t see that she had much choice.

‘Nice,’ Diana purred. ‘I’ve always wondered what it would feel like.’ She hitched her short skirt up over her hips. She was wearing panties and stockings. She braced herself against the opposite wall of the cubicle with her legs apart. ‘Come on then.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ Andrea asked again.

Diana took her hand and pulled it inside her panties. ‘Mr Hawksworth makes you have sex with women, doesn’t he? That’s what I heard. You must know what to do.’ She pressed Andrea’s hand down over her sex mound. Andrea prodded a finger between her legs and into the slit of her labia, finding her clit. Diana gasped as Andrea’s finger rubbed the little nut of nerves. ‘Oh, yes...’ she sighed.

Andrea pushed her finger into the girl’s vagina, feeling juices seeping over it. ‘Can you feel that?’ Diana asked. ‘I’m so turned on.’

‘Yes,’ Andrea said. She moved her finger back to Diana’s clit, leaving a trail of wetness against her labia, Diana shuddering with delight. She stroked her finger from side to side.

‘Like that, yes, like that,’ the girl urged. She raised a hand and wrapped it around Andrea’s neck, her fingers digging into her flesh. Andrea rubbed her clit more rapidly. The girl moaned loudly and threw her head back against the wall. ‘Don’t stop, don’t...’

She couldn’t get out the last word; it turned into a low cry of pleasure. She rolled her head back against the cubicle wall again, pulled Andrea’s face to her so it was buried against her shoulder and came, her clitoris pulsing under Andrea’s finger.

As her orgasm faded she pushed Andrea’s head away and looked her in the eyes. ‘I’ve never come so quickly before,’ she said. ‘I always knew it would be good with another woman.’

Andrea pulled her hand out from her panties.

‘I better get you back.’ Diana pulled her skirt down.

Andrea’s sex was throbbing. Feeling the girl come had aroused her own needs. She would love to kiss the girl again and pull down those panties. She would love to press her mouth to the girl’s sex and make her return the compliment, but she knew she could do no such thing.

Diana smoothed Andrea’s skirt back down quickly found the slits on either side and clipped the leather cuffs back to the thigh bands. ‘Don’t say a word,’ she warned as she pulled her out of the cubicle and towards the door.

‘I won’t,’ Andrea said.

Diana had used her. She supposed she should have refused to cooperate, but like Laurie, Diana was acting directly for her master so she could persuade herself, even if it wasn’t true, that by obeying her she had been obeying her master too. At least that was how she was going to convince herself that what she’d done had not contrived the dictates of being a perfect slave, which didn’t mean it was wise to tell Hawksworth what had happened.

‘I won’t,’ she repeated.

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

The black Mercedes cruised along the motorway. Charles Hawksworth sat in the back, with Andrea at his side.

‘Is the bondage uncomfortable?’ he asked. He had opened the cocktail cabinet built into the partition that divided the driver’s compartment from the passengers, and poured himself a malt whisky.

‘Yes, master,’ she said, her wrists still secured to her thighs, the leather cuffs biting into her flesh.

‘I saw you looking at Diana,’ he said. ‘She’s a lovely young woman, isn’t she?’

She felt a jolt of alarm. What did he know? ‘Yes, master.’

‘Do you think she would be suitable?’

‘I don’t understand, master.’

Hawksworth smiled. ‘She wants to come to the manor, but I’m not sure she has what it takes. She’s not submissive. She’s a dominant personality.’

‘Yes, master.’

Was there a video camera in the toilets? Had Diana been yet another test, and one she had patently failed? Andrea felt her heart beating faster.

‘Perhaps I need to set her a little test,’ he mused, almost to himself.

Andrea remained silent. As Hawksworth showed no signs of being angry with her she relaxed slightly.

The car slowed, then pulled through the wire gates of a private airfield. It drove straight up to a small white jet parked on the taxiway. The driver got out and opened the passenger door.

‘Come on, my dear,’ Hawksworth said, helping Andrea out of the car. A uniformed stewardess stood by the steps that led up to the plane. She had short dark-brown hair and a curvaceous figure.

‘Good evening, Mr Hawksworth,’ she beamed.

‘Good evening, Isabel. Take Andrea in and get her settled.’

‘Certainly, sir.’

Isabel took Andrea’s arm and guided her up the steps. The main cabin of the plane was as luxurious as the interior of the car. It had large comfortable armchairs, a sofa and a dining table surrounded by four chairs. There was a bar in one corner and a large television screen.

Isabel pushed Andrea down into one of the armchairs and fastened her seatbelt. With her arms secured to her thighs she was once again completely helpless.

Hawksworth entered the cabin and sat in the other armchair, facing Andrea. ‘I’ll have another malt, Isabel, please.’

She went to the bar and poured the drink, then set it down on the small table next to his chair.

‘Now leave us,’ he said.

‘We take off in five minutes, sir.’ She walked to the door at the front of the cabin and closed it after her.

Andrea had never been in a private plane before, but she was not in the mood to take any real notice of her surroundings. It was quite obvious to her now that wherever they were going Hawksworth intended to take her there personally, and that made her feel almost intoxicated with delight. What’s more, she could see his attention was focussed on her now, his eyes examining her body. In all the long hours at the manor she had done nothing but think about what it would be like to be with him and have him all to herself. Now it seemed that wish had come true.

The plane’s engines whistled into life and the plane taxied forward. After the briefest of waits at the end of the runway it took off, climbing rapidly. Andrea wanted to ask where they were going, but dare not.

As the plane levelled out there was a knock on the cabin door. ‘Yes?’ Hawksworth called.

Isabel entered. ‘Is there anything you’d like, sir?’

‘Yes, get Andrea a drink, please. What would you like, my dear?’

That took Andrea by surprise. After having spent so long without making a single choice for herself it was difficult to get back into the habit.

‘Give her a glass of champagne,’ Hawksworth said.

Isabel opened a bottle and poured a glass. She went to Andrea and held it to her lips to drink, so casually Andrea was sure she’d had to perform this service before. Some of the champagne spilled over her lips and down her chin, dripping onto her white blouse.

‘Undo her seatbelt,’ Hawksworth said, and Isabel flipped it open. ‘Stand up.’ Hawksworth’s attitude had changed. His voice was gruffer and more demanding; the relaxed and chatty manner adopted in the car had completely disappeared. Andrea got to her feet. ‘I want her naked, Isabel.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Again Isabel seemed to know exactly what to do. She unclipped the leather cuffs from the thigh bands and pulled off Andrea’s skirt. She took her jacket off and then the white blouse too, Andrea’s breasts quivering as they were revealed.

‘Take the thigh bands off,’ he said. ‘Bind her hands behind her back.’

Isabel drew Andrea’s arms behind her back and used the snap-lock on the D-rings to secure the cuffs together. The thigh bands were held in place by velcro, which made a tearing sound as she pulled them away.

The leather had disturbed the tops of the stockings slightly, so Isabel straightened and smoothed them, her hands nudging against Andrea’s naked sex rather more than Andrea thought was strictly necessary.

‘Leave us,’ Hawksworth ordered.

Isabel took one last look at her all but naked body, and then left the cabin.

‘Kneel,’ Hawksworth said, and Andrea obeyed with some difficulty, her knees sinking to the thick carpet.

Hawksworth levelled his blue eyes straight at hers. She was riveted to the spot by the power of them. Then he got to his feet and walked over to the bar, pouring himself another malt from the crystal decanter. He sipped the golden liquid, then put the glass down on the counter. ‘Would like some more champagne?’

‘Yes please, master.’

He picked up the champagne glass, tilted her head up by her chin, and put it to her lips. It was a tender gesture and one that made her heart leap. The look in his eyes was caring, too. The wine was still cold. It dribbled down her chin again and dripped onto her breasts. Her nipples, already erect, stiffened further.

Hawksworth put the glass down and took off his jacket. He unzipped the fly of his trousers and extracted his flaccid cock.

‘Here,’ he said, ‘suck it for me, Andrea.’

She felt her pulse racing. He had been intimate with her before, but never anything like this. Eagerly she moved her head forward. For once she genuinely wished she was not in bondage, that she could hold his cock in her hands, and cup his balls while she took him in her mouth. But she would just have to make do with her lips and her tongue. She opened her mouth and sucked him in, then used her tongue to rub his glans and the vein running along the underside.

‘Good girl,’ he said.

His cock began to swell rapidly. She pushed forward until it was buried in the back of her throat, then sucked hard on the whole length of it. Pulling right back she dipped her head lower, running her lips down underside of the shaft, sucking and nibbling. When she reached his balls she sucked them one after another. His cock, resting against her cheek, throbbed strongly.

Then her master stepped away. He tugged off his tie, undid his shirt, and kicked off his shoes.

A phone on the bulkhead rang. He picked it up, cradling it to his ear with his shoulder while he sat on the chair and pulled off his socks. ‘Yes?’ He listened for a moment. ‘I’ll call you back,’ he said. Getting to his feet again he undid the belt of his trousers, allowed them to fall to the floor, and stepped out of them. His black briefs followed.

‘I don’t really have the time for this,’ he said, but took a step towards kneeling Andrea, his erection an inch from her lips. But as much as she wanted to suck it into her mouth again she knew better than to do anything without being told.

‘Now, where were we?’ he mused. ‘Oh yes, I remember. Make it good, Andrea.’

She dipped her head until her lips were under the gnarled shaft again. She used her tongue to tease his balls, then sucked his cock back into her mouth. This time she used her teeth, nibbling the rigid flesh lightly, until her lips were against the base of his shaft and she could feel his wiry pubic hair touching her nose.

Slowly she moved back, nipping all the way along his phallus, delaying the moment she plunged her mouth down and swallowed him again. Her own sex was running with juices, the wetness coating her thighs. She remembered how she’d felt as she watched Julia being allowed to do exactly this to Hawksworth, and how she wished it was her. Now her wish had come true. She hadn’t understood what the ‘training’ he’d spoken of meant, but now she knew. It was not a question of obedience or discipline, though that was obviously important. What her weeks at the manor had done was to narrow her entire world down until it was entirely focussed on Charles Darrington Hawksworth. She cared about nothing else. Nothing else mattered.

She still cursed herself for being so stupid on her first day at the manor, and for the mistake she made, but she guessed placing her with so many provocations was deliberate. Hawksworth wanted to punish her with neglect to show her right from the beginning exactly how much she needed him and his attention, and how little he needed her. A slave is not complete without a master; isn’t that what he’d said?

She had his attention now, all of it.

She swallowed his erection, taking it right to the back of her throat, so deep she had to control the reflex to gag.

Hawksworth moaned, running his fingers into her long blonde hair and holding her head, so she could not move back. She felt his cock pulsing strongly. He relaxed his grip. She pulled back so she could use her tongue on his glans, licking it and covering it with her saliva.

‘What a sweet little mouth you have,’ he drooled, in almost a whisper.

She pushed back on him again, then began a regular rhythm, sawing her mouth back and forth, sucking hard as he thrust inward, licking with her tongue on the outward stroke.

‘Yes...’ he hissed. She could see the muscles of his thighs tightening and feel his fingers digging into her scalp. She increased the tempo. By angling her head back she could get the whole of his cock inside her mouth, and feel his glans throbbing against the tight ribbing at the back of her throat. She wanted to feel the boiling spunk erupting from him.

Hawksworth’s cock pulsed within the tight confines of her throat, his glans swelling like a balloon, and she felt a jet of hot liquid spurt from him. For a second nothing else happened. He held himself rigid, every muscle in his body locked. Then his cock jerked again and his spunk spattered out of him in a stream, cascading down her throat. Desperately Andrea tried to swallow it all, but there was so much some escaped and pearled down her chin. Hawksworth did not move. He stood there naked with his hands entwined in her hair, allowing his orgasm to wash over him. Andrea felt his cock softening, and touched it gently with her tongue, the taste of his spunk filling her senses.

Eventually he pulled away. He picked up his whisky and took a sip, then pressed a button on the bulkhead by the bar.

‘Yes, sir?’ Isabel said, opening the door from the forward cabin, apparently unfazed by Hawksworth’s nakedness. Clearly she was quite used to such incidents.

‘Get Abrahams back on the phone for me.’

‘Yes, Mr Hawksworth.’

‘Then get her ready.’ He nodded towards Andrea, but didn’t look at her.

‘Certainly, sir.’ Isabel closed the door again.

Hawksworth picked up his trousers and briefs and pulled them back on. He slipped into his shirt. A moment later the phone rang again.

‘Yes...’ Hawksworth listened, then began talking in French. The cabin door opened and Isabel came back in. She took hold of Andrea’s arm and hauled her to her feet. ‘Come on,’ she said. There was a definite glint in her eye.

The stewardess directed Andrea to the rear of the cabin. There was another small door, which she opened and guided Andrea through.

‘Alone at last,’ she said, closing the door.

They were in a small cargo compartment. There was nylon webbing on slatted wooden storage shelves, and several cases were carefully strapped down on them.

Screwed into the bulkhead between this and the passenger accommodation was a T-shaped structure covered in white leather. Attached to the crosspiece at shoulder height were six white leather straps. Another strap was dangling from the vertical component just off the floor.

Isabel spun Andrea around, released the snap-lock that held the cuffs together, then unbuckled both of them. There was a small case on the floor by one of the storage units, and Isabel crouched down beside it, put it on its side and opened it up.

‘Put these on,’ she said, standing and handing Andrea a red rubber garment, a pair of matching gloves and a packet of stockings.

Andrea examined the rubber garment. It was like an old-fashioned full-length girdle with shoulder straps and short suspenders dangling from the hem. At the front, where it fitted over her breasts, two holes had been cut. She pulled the rubber over her head and down over her shoulders. The inside had been coated with talcum powder, but it was still a trial to worm her body into it, but eventually she managed to, the constricting rubber moulding tightly to her curves. It extended down over her buttocks to the tops of her thighs, and her breasts swelled obscenely through the holes at the front. She opened the cellophane packet of stockings and shook them out. They were black and sheer with a glossy finish, a fully-fashioned heel and a seam.

‘Sit on this,’ Isabel said, moving a metal stool to her. The seat was cold, but Andrea perched on it, raised her legs one by one and rolled on the stockings, making sure each seam was straight. She then clipped them into the suspenders of the rubber girdle.

‘Now the gloves,’ Isabel directed.

Andrea picked them up and began working them over her fingers and up her arms. They extended well above her elbows, and again it took a great deal of tugging and manipulating before they were both in place.

Isabel took a pair of red leather ankle boots from the case and handed them to Andrea. They had a tapering four-inch heel. ‘Put these on too.’ Andrea pulled the boots on. ‘Good,’ Isabel said. ‘Now stand up.’

Andrea got to her feet again. Isabel took her by the arms and pushed her back against the bulkhead with her shoulders in the centre of the crosspiece of the white leather cross. She raised her left arm at right angles to her body and secured the first of the leather straps around her wrist. The second strap fitted just above the elbow and the third right at the top of the arm. The stewardess then took her other arm and secured that too, then knelt at Andrea’s feet, pulled her ankles together and bound them with the strap at the bottom of the T-shaped cross.

‘Better than a seatbelt,’ she said, smiling. She raised her hand and stroked Andrea’s cheek. ‘Look at you; you’re so needy, aren’t you?’ She ran her finger down Andrea’s throat, along her collarbone and down to the rubber girdle. She flicked both Andrea’s nipples with her fingernail, then moved down under the hem of the girdle, to her sex, parting her labia and finding her clit.

Andrea gasped as the finger pressed on her aroused bud. ‘So needy,’ Isabel repeated. She wormed her finger between Andrea’s sex lips, then lifted it to her own mouth and sucked it. ‘And so juicy...’

The skirt of the grey uniform she was wearing was knee-length and quite tight. Isabel wriggled it up over her hips, revealing that her flesh-coloured nylons were clipped into a white suspender belt. She was wearing white French knickers. She pushed her hand into the leg of the knickers and Andrea watched her fingers locating her clit, frigging herself.

The stewardess moved closer. She pressed her cheek against Andrea’s and kissed her ear, the jacket of her uniform rubbing against Andrea’s naked breasts. ‘Lovely,’ she whispered, undulating her body against the rubber girdle as she wrapped her free hand around Andrea’s neck.

The plane banked to the left and Isabel clung to Andrea for support. As the plane levelled out again she gave a tiny cry and squeezed herself against Andrea, standing perfectly still.

After a moment she pulled away, and without another word she straightened her skirt, brushed through her hair with her fingers, and walked through into the passenger cabin, leaving Andrea alone amongst the cargo.

 

The plane was starting to descend. Andrea could feel the pressure building in her ears.

Isabel’s attentions, as well as the master’s, had left her unbelievably frustrated. She would give anything to be able to finger her clitoris. It was alive, itching to be relieved, but yet again she was denied this comfort; which made matters worse because the constant reminder that she was a slave and could not even touch herself only increased her excitement and need. ‘So needy,’ the stewardess had said, and she was absolutely right.

There was a single porthole in the cargo compartment, but as it was now dark Andrea could only glimpse the landing lights on the runway as they came in to land, and she had no idea where they might be.

It took about five minutes for the plane to taxi to a halt and outside Andrea caught a glimpse of a black limousine, waiting on the side of the tarmac.

She heard a thud of doors being unlatched. The cargo door opened and she felt a rush of fresh air. It was balmy and scented with flowers. A man in overalls began unloading the cases from the racks, though he appeared not to give Andrea a second glance.

Isabel appeared from the passenger cabin. She began unbuckling the straps around Andrea’s arms, and the belt around her ankles followed. Then as soon as she was free she used a pair of metal handcuffs to bind Andrea’s wrists behind her back.

There were six steps to the tarmac, and Isabel helped Andrea down them. She led her across to the limousine where a driver stood with the rear door open, and the luggage was being loaded into the boot. Inside she saw Hawksworth on the phone.

The driver closed the door the moment Andrea was inside, then slipped behind the wheel, and the car drove off as Isabel walked back towards the plane.

It was a short drive. Andrea caught sight of a French road sign at a small roundabout. They were in France! In three or four minutes of winding country lanes they were pulling through the wrought-iron gates of an impressive chateau.

The car did not drive up to the front of the building, where a double staircase in stone led up to huge front doors, but right around the back, where a large conservatory had been added to the building, and was flooded with light. As they got closer Andrea could see that as well as all the exotic plants around the glazed walls it also contained a swimming pool.

The car came to a halt at a door at the back of the chateau. Hawksworth was still deep in conversation in French, and made no attempt to get out. The driver opened the rear car door.

‘Go with him,’ Hawksworth said, putting his hand over the telephone for a second.

The driver helped Andrea out of the car. He led her over to the door and rapped on it with his gloved hand.

A few seconds later the door was opened, light flooding out. A woman stood in the doorway. To Andrea’s astonishment she was dressed in an identical costume as her; a red rubber girdle, long gloves in the same material, black stockings and red leather high-heels. She even wore an identical steel collar to the one locked around Andrea’s throat from the first day. The only difference was that the girl was wearing a red velvet mask over her eyes.

‘Merci, Henri,’ the girl said, and the driver walked back to the car.

She held out a mask. ‘Put this on,’ she said with a husky French accent, then realising Andrea’s hands were cuffed behind her back she raised the mask and slipped the elasticated strap around her head, settling it on her nose and making sure the two oval slits for her eyes allowed her to see.

They walked into the chateau, along a brick-floored and well-worn corridor into a small, surprisingly intimate sitting room.

‘Bon soir.’ A short middle-aged woman with blonde hair sat in a blue armchair. She was wearing a brief white satin slip with a lace bodice, and kneeling in front of her was another corseted girl, except her garment was made from black velvet, with laces running down her back. The blonde’s legs were wide apart, one foot on the floor and the other raised, her calf resting on the girl’s shoulders. The girl’s mouth was pressed to her sex, and her head was bobbing up and down. Andrea could see her naked buttocks were crisscrossed with weals, at least six or seven and all, judging by the blotchy red colour of them, fairly recent.

In front of a stone fireplace a grey-haired man was sitting on a large sofa, wearing a white cotton robe. A girl knelt in front of him too; her costume also identical to Andrea’s, right down to the velvet mask. The whole difference was that her hands were tied under her chin by a nylon line secured to the steel collar around her throat. She was sucking the man’s naked cock, just as Andrea had sucked Hawksworth’s on the plane.

‘Welcome, my dear,’ the woman added, stroking the dark hair of the girl who knelt in front of her. ‘You’ve arrived at just the right moment, as you see.’ Her English was impeccable, with hardly a trace of an accent.

‘Come over here,’ the man said.

Andrea hesitated; was she supposed to obey them, as she obeyed Hawksworth?

‘Do it,’ said the man causing her hesitation; Hawksworth was standing behind her with a stern expression on his face. So Andrea hurried over to the man.

‘Kneel,’ he said, so she knelt beside the identically dressed girl. ‘Share it,’ the man ordered, pulling his cock out of the girl’s mouth.

Andrea did not need to be asked twice. Acutely aware of her master’s eyes boring into her back she slipped her mouth over the large cock, its shaft already glistening with saliva. As she did so the girl squirmed around and kissed the standing rod of flesh, their lips touching as they sucked and licked and kissed.

‘Hawksworth, how nice to see, you,’ the woman greeted.

‘Marie-Claire, it’s a delight as always,’ he replied.

‘She is for training, no?’ Marie-Claire nodded towards Andrea.

‘Yes. I don’t think you’ll have any difficulties. She has a real talent for it.’

‘Then that promises to be fun. Won’t you join us? Take your pick.’ She took hold of the brunette’s hair and pulled her head back. ‘This one is very talented, aren’t you Claudine? Though as you see for yourself, we have had to take her in hand tonight.’

‘Oui, Madame Vuittenez,’ the girl said meekly.

‘Or there’s Simone over there. You wouldn’t mind would you, Pierre?’

‘For you, Charles, anything.’

‘And who is this charming creature,’ Hawksworth asked, turning to the girl in red rubber who’d met Andrea at the door.

‘Sophie,’ said Marie-Claire, ‘our star pupil.’

‘Then come here, Sophie,’ Hawksworth beckoned, and the girl walked closer. Andrea could only see him from the corner of her eye, but it appeared that he kissed her on the lips. He had never done that to her. ‘But for the moment I’m content to watch,’ he said.

‘Bon,’ Marie-Claire said. ‘I love being watched. Are you comfortable here, or shall we go upstairs?’

‘I’m fine here,’ Hawksworth said. He selected an armchair and sat down.

‘She’s good,’ Pierre said to him, nodding at Andrea.

‘Thank you,’ Hawksworth replied.

‘Has she been buggered?’

‘Yes, but only by me.’

‘Do you mind?’

‘My dear man, you’re going to have her here for seven days. This is the last lap of her training. You and Marie-Claire have carte blanche with all the girls.’

‘True,’ Pierre mused. ‘So kneel up on the sofa, girl,’ he ordered.

‘Ohhh...’ Marie-Claire suddenly threw her head back and groaned in delight, Claudine’s face back between her thighs, the girl’s tongue lapping at her clitoris.

‘Sophie, bring me some nipple clips,’ Pierre instructed. ‘If Charles wants a show will give him one.’

As Andrea got up on the sofa, helped by Simone, Sophie crossed to a small box on an occasional table and took out a thin metal chain, at each end of which were the oval clips Andrea had experienced for herself.

‘Get her nice and wet for me, Simone,’ Pierre said, and Simone immediately lay on her back on the sofa, then wriggled back between Andrea’s knees until her face was immediately under her sex. She wrapped her hands around Andrea’s thighs, just above her stocking tops, and pulled her down onto her face. Instantly Andrea felt her tongue dart up into her sex, butting against her clit. It was such a relief after all her frustrations that she whimpered loudly.

Pierre got to his feet and stripped off his cotton robe, his erect cock bobbing from his groin. He stood at the side of the two girls and cupped Andrea’s breasts, pinching her nipples, making her moan with pleasure. Already she was feeling the familiar precursors to an orgasm, but she knew, with Hawksworth’s eyes watching every move she made, she was not allowed to come. But Simone’s tongue was artful. It seemed to be able to find the spot on her clitoris which produced the greatest pangs of pleasure, and wave after wave of delight was making her shudder and convulse.

Sophie carried the nipple clips over to Marie-Claire, pulled the shoulder straps of the slip down her arms and bared the blonde’s breasts. The girl opened the jaws of the clips and fitted them over her nipples, making Marie-Claire gasp.

Pierre gripped Andrea’s neck, pulling her face back to his cock. She opened her mouth and sucked it in, her eyes searching out Hawksworth’s, remembering how it felt as he came in her mouth not so long before. He met her gaze, those blue eyes betraying not the least emotion, neither excitement nor disdain.

Pierre pulled his cock out of Andrea’s mouth and climbed on the sofa, kneeling behind her, astride Simone. Andrea felt his throbbing erection nudging against her buttocks.

Simone raised her head and coated Pierre’s cock with saliva, making hungry slurping noises. Then as Andrea felt her mouth latching back on her sex lips Pierre’s cock thrust into the opening of her anus.

‘No,’ she murmured, but her body betrayed her, her sphincter opening to allow his glans to press inside. It was only the second time she had experienced such discomfort in her life, but it quickly transmogrified into sinful pleasure. Her sex clenched and she felt her clit pulse as Simone’s clever tongue teased it.

Everywhere around her was sex. She could see Marie-Claire stretched out across the armchair, her head thrown back, both legs now resting on Claudine’s shoulders, the heels of her white satin slippers digging into the girl’s back. Claudine was licking her sex avidly with broad strokes of her tongue, while Sophie stood beside the chair with the chain of the nipple clips in her hand, pulling it up so that the blonde’s nipples formed two tortured peaks.

Pierre thrust his cock forward, into the depths of Andrea’s rear passage. Another stab of pain rippled through her, instantly followed by hot, fervid pleasure. Her whole body shuddered. She was on the brink of a violent orgasm, Simone’s tongue working ceaselessly between her legs, bringing her closer and closer. She looked over at Hawksworth, trying to beg him with her eyes to give her permission, but he was looking at Marie-Claire.

‘No,’ she whispered to herself, trying desperately to hold herself back. She was sure now that everything about the day had been planned, even what had happened with Diana, to create an overwhelming need, to test her to the limit.

Pierre began pumping into her, the tight tube of her rear lubricated by Simone’s saliva. She had never realised that her anus could be as sensitive as her cunt. ‘No, please no,’ she breathed.

Suddenly Hawksworth’s eyes met hers and everything stood still. For a moment she remained in stasis as he looked at her. Then he nodded, a gesture that had only one interpretation, and she came, her orgasm flooding her, like the water behind a dam. She screamed and shuddered, her anus clamping around the rod of flesh that invaded it. Somewhere in the huge miasma of feeling that shook every inch of her she felt Pierre’s cock jerking too, and was aware of a hot wetness spreading from the centre of her, but her own feelings were too intense to really register it clearly.

Eventually the feelings ebbed away. She opened her eyes and looked down between her legs. Simone had gobbled Pierre’s wilting cock into her mouth and was busy licking it clean of the last drops of his spunk.

Across the room Marie-Claire must have come too, because Sophie was delicately plucking off the nipple clips, replacing them with the soothing balm of her tongue. Claudine lay sprawled on the carpet, her services no longer required.

‘Bravo; that was quite a show,’ Hawksworth said.

‘Glad you enjoyed it,’ Marie-Claire sighed. ‘Why don’t you take one of the girls now?’

‘No, no, I’ve got to go. I’ll be back to pick her up next week, so perhaps then...’

‘Go?’ Andrea gasped, despite knowing better.

‘You know better than that, girl,’ Hawksworth admonished immediately.

‘But where are you going?’

‘That is none of your business,’ he said sternly.

‘You’re not leaving me here.’ Suddenly Andrea felt as if she’d been thrown into a cold shower. All her sexual energy drained away. She’d come to the chateau with her master. Everything she’d done was for him. He couldn’t merely discard her for a whole week!

Hawksworth got to his feet. ‘Everything is by consent,’ he said.

‘I can’t, I can’t,’ she protested, shaking her head. Suddenly the rubber corset and the stockings and the gloves seemed obscene and faintly ridiculous. She didn’t want this. She had done it for her master. Of course she’d been away from him before, but the prospect of a week somewhere in France, hundreds of miles away from him, was something quite different. She would do anything for him and with him, but this was too much to ask.

‘Very well.’ He moved to the sofa, took a small key from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs. Andrea looked up into his eyes, pleading with him, though she wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do.

He nodded to Marie-Claire, who also got to her feet. The blonde came over to Andrea and helped her off the sofa. Without a word she led her out of the sitting room and along the corridor. She opened a door on the left and guided Andrea inside.

‘Take your clothes off,’ she said, and as soon as Andrea had wriggled out of the rubber clothes Marie-Claire gathered them up and went to the door. She walked out and Andrea heard a key being turned in the lock.

The room had a small single bed, a straight-backed chair and a mirror. Andrea stared at herself in it. She looked different to herself, but her eyes were unchanged. Despite everything they’d seen in the last few weeks they stared back at her with the same intensity as ever.

She noticed, as she brushed her hair with her fingers, that her hand was shaking. In the space of a few minutes her whole world had collapsed. The look on her master’s face, the total disinterest he’d displayed, touched her deep inside. She had no idea what Marie-Claire’s training would involve, but she could get through it if at the end of each day she at least had some hope of being taken to her master. She didn’t mind sharing him, or watching him with another woman, but not seeing him at all was just too much to bear.

Soon the door was unlocked and opened again, and Charles Darrington Hawksworth entered the room. He had a beige dressed folded over his arm. He laid it on the bed next to her. There was also a pair of white cotton panties, a bra and a pair of flat-heeled brown shoes.

‘Get dressed,’ he said quietly, walking back to the door.

‘Master,’ she said, ‘don’t go.’

‘I am no longer your master, Andrea.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘I thought you understood.’

‘I can’t bear to be without you, master.’

‘By refusing to be trained here, that is precisely what you have achieved. If you do not wish to obey me then you will be sent back to London. I will never see you again.’

‘No,’ she said.

‘Yes. Get dressed. The plane is going back to London in an hour. Your job is waiting for you.’

Andrea was stunned. Of course what he said was true; she could not expect to go back to the manor and have him take up where they’d left off. All that was over. She sat on the bed, staring forlornly at her knees.

‘Such a pity,’ he said, opening the door.

‘Don’t go,’ she said.

‘I have to.’

She tried to collect her thoughts. She supposed one day she would have to face the cold reality of her flat and her job again, but the thought of walking into her office on Monday morning was like a slap in the face. She had already begun to speculate about the System and what the master would ask her to do after her ‘training’, but all that appeared to be over too. ‘Please, master.’

‘You’ve let me down,’ he said, sadly.

‘No, no!’ she shouted determinedly, jumping to her feet. ‘I’ll do it. I’ll stay. Anything. Just tell me I can stay.’

‘Of course you can,’ he said.

‘Oh, master!’ She threw herself into his arms, a flood of relief overwhelming her.

‘Now get on your knees,’ he ordered.

‘Yes, master,’ she said, relishing the words again. She didn’t care. She didn’t care what Marie-Claire did to her, she didn’t care how long Hawksworth was away, as long as she could see him again and be his slave. She realised with absolute conviction that that was all she had ever wanted. She knew she should never have tried to assert herself. She was beyond all that. She had no ability to choose any more, no will of her own. She sank to her knees. Now she belonged to him. What he wanted for her was all she wanted for herself.

‘You’ll have to be punished,’ he said.

‘Yes, master. Punish me.’

 

-oOo-