Chapter Eighteen

 

In the Refrigerator Room a chain through Cyril’s bum-ring spread-eagled him to a whipping post. It was so cold he wanted to pee, but he thought it better to suffer discomfort as long as possible than risk his water turning to ice and clinging like an icicle to his cock.

He heard a gasp. Turning his head, he saw the door opening slowly.

A well-shaped leg in a silk stocking eased round the door. Then came a hem of lace. This was followed by a frightened face that peered round the edge of the door.

It was Erica dressed in his French maid’s uniform.

‘Ooh!’ Erica shivered. ‘It’s so cold in here. Is there something I can do for you?’

‘Like?’

‘Like . . . like keeping you warm. ’

‘How?’

‘I could breathe warm air on you. You know, on your cock, for instance. It’s blue with cold. ’

‘If you really want to help, you get me off this chain. ’ Cyril shivered as he spoke.

Erica shuddered.

‘No. I daren’t do that. They’d know it was me and we’d both be punished then. And with my delicate constitution, it’d be more than I could stand. ’

‘How else can you help me?’

Erica looked shyly down at the floor.

‘I could suck you off. The warm spunk ‘d help you. Besides . . . ‘ He paused.

‘Yes?’

Erica blushed.

‘I’ve been wanting to suck you for some time now. ’

‘How would that help ME, though?’

Erica fell on his knees in front of the shivering man.

‘It’d warm you, you know. ’

He took the shrivelled cock in his mouth.

A tremor ran through Cyril as he felt Erica’s tongue run over his member. No sooner had it died away than a second, more violent spasm replaced it.

Erica was now sucking, biting and rolling the cock between his teeth, making deep ripples run along Cyril’s freezing body.

The two men were lost in their excitement. They did not hear Vesta arrive.

‘I see,’ she laughed happily. ‘Little gays, eh? Playing together. Well, we’ll have a little game of our own. ’

She pulled off the short fur jacket she was wearing. Her only other article of clothing was a skimpy G-string. Without hurrying she undid the fastenings, twisted her hips, took the string off and flung it away, high in the air.

‘Now,’ she called, ‘I’m ready. First, the lover on the cross. Are you getting it up yet? Look at me!’

The command came out sharply.

She pulled back the lips of her pussy, exposing the delicate pink membrane between her thighs. Then she turned her body around so that Cyril would have a full view.

‘Got it up yet?’ she repeated.

Cyril, his widened eyes fixed on her quim, shook his head.

‘Right! What you need, my boy, is a lesson. ’

She ran her icy fingers across his nipples. Immediately, they sprang to life, drawing a groan of pleasure from him. Then she wiggled her fingers in a tin of fragrant body oil and worked them over his cock.

Cyril groaned and strained uselessly at his bonds. His cock reared and swayed.

Erica’s mouth hung open. Vesta turned and beckoned to him.

‘Come here, little girlie. It’s your turn now. ’

She grabbed his dangling cock and started to wank him. His head fell back as his cock began to stiffen, his breath starting to come in short gulps. As the tension rose, his knees gave way but he was held up by the grip she had on his little prick.

‘You like that, don’t you?’ she asked as her hand slid along his wet shaft.

Erica nodded.

She spread her legs widely apart.

‘Lick my pussy,’ she ordered.

Eagerly, the little French maid obediently stretched his head towards her. As he did so, she smacked his bottom hard with her free hand.

The indignity and sharp pain made him cry out like a naughty child.

The smacking went on and on. His cries grew louder. She laughed as she pulled him by his cock over her knees and dragged his cami-knickers down to his silk-covered knees.

‘I’ll be good,’ he sobbed. ‘Don’t spank me, please. I haven’t been spanked before . . . and I don’t know if I can stand much of it. ’

She laughed again.

‘But naughty children MUST be spanked, mustn’t they, Cyril?’

Cyril dare not argue with her.

‘You see?’ she said to Erica. ‘Even your lover says you must. You’ll get to like it. You’ll see. First, I’m going to redden your little bum for you. ’

A look of eager anticipation came over Erica’s face, contradicting his words.

‘No . . . Please . . . don’t SPANK me . . . SPANK me . . . ’

Tears ran down his face as the tanning went on. He realised that each time he said the word ‘SPANK’ the mistress’s hand slapped his bum.

‘ . . . SPANK . . . ‘ he blubbed.

‘Does it hurt?’ she asked.

The little man nodded, gulping back his tears. He burrowed in her lap, trying to relieve his urgent want.

‘I’ve got a treat in store for you, little man. For BOTH of you after this,’ Vesta laughed. ‘But first . . . ‘

The smacking went on until Erica was squealing.

‘Now tell me what you are,’ she ordered.

‘I . . . I’m a . . . naughty little boy . . . no, girl, I mean. Thank you for smacking me. ’

His voice was trembling in case he said the wrong thing and lead to further smacking.

‘And you liked it, didn’t you?’

‘Ye . . . Yes. I really liked it. ’

‘And your friend tied up there, is he naughty, too?’

‘Oh, yes. He’s VERY naughty. ’

‘Well, we’ll have to deal with him, won’t we?’

Cyril quaked as he remembered Vesta being spanked by Lashley in public. This would give her the opportunity to get her revenge on him. After all, if he had not quarrelled with Thrushton, she would not have been spanked.

Erica dared not say anything.

She let his cock go and picked up a long steel dildo with a strong flex attached to one end. After plugging the flex into a wall socket, she pushed the other end into Cyril’s bum and switched the electricity on.

The current surged into Cyril’s anus. His body jerked backwards and forwards several times, a movement he could not control. He had an urge to spout, but it was too cold for him to harden.

Little drops of come appeared at the tip of his cock.

‘Like it?’ she asked cruelly.

But Cyril’s passion was too far gone for him to speak. Madly, he moved his pelvis in response to the electricity surging through him. The drops of come turned to a thin continuous dribble.

‘Wank me! Wank me!’ he gasped.

His body lashed around in a violent attempt to relieve himself by masturbating against something. Anything would do.

‘Toss me off,’ he begged. ‘Rub me up. ’

The dildo was getting warmer as the electricity continued to run through it.

He was now jerking uncontrollably. His pleas for relief had become continuous screams. He began to make wild, lascivious promises, if only she would let the torture subside.

‘Fuck me!’ he begged.

‘See if you like this, lover,’ she scoffed.

She switched on an electric hotplate. He was horrified to see it starting to glow.

Then she pulled it towards him, ignoring his wild pleas and promises, and placed the hotplate close to his straining cock.

‘Now then,’ she mocked him. ‘Try rubbing yourself against THAT. That’ll take your mind off things. ’

He was terrified. The slightest touch would fry his flesh, leaving him scarred for life. Yet the pulsing dildo was maddening him, making him jerk backwards and forwards without stopping.

For the moment, the chain running through the ring in his bum was keeping him away from the plate. But, he thought, supposing the heat made the metal expand? Or supposing the flesh of his buttock-cheek tore away?

His body would droop nearer to the red hotplate. His cock would be roasted then.

‘I’m leaving you now,’ she said. ‘But I’ll be back to see how you’re getting on. ’

She picked up her G-string, pressed it against Cyril’s mouth and nose and wiped it slowly over his face.

‘Have a good sniff,’ she said. ‘It’s the nearest you’ll get to rogering me. ’

Cyril’s body came closer to the hotplate as the heat increased.

‘Erica,’ he whispered, ‘She’s gone. Pick up the hotplate and put it against the chain that’s holding me to the post. Try to melt a link or two. ’

Gradually, the heat made some of the links weaken. Cyril’s body drooped. The tip of his penis touched the plate, making him draw back with a scream.

Erica worked frantically. At last he managed to force the link apart and the chain slipped out. He was just able to catch Cyril as he fell, dazed, to the ground.

When he groaned, Erica kissed him deeply.

‘Run,’ he whispered to the freed man. ‘Get out before she comes back. ’

‘What about you?’

‘I dare not. ’ Erica’s face turned red. ‘Besides . . . they’re good to me here. I shouldn’t be able to live anywhere else. I’m happy here as a French maid. . . . and . . . and that spanking . . . well, you know . . . No, you go by yourself. Just give me a kiss, and go. ’