Chapter Nine

Soon the guests departed, all except the two pretty young men. Their names were Ricardo and Antonio; both were Italians, though long residents in London. Though similar in appearance, with dark, curling hair, each having a full mouth with, for a male, surprisingly red lips, and eyelashes that were more suited to a girl, I did not think them brothers. The Count invited them to dine with us. They proved to be delightful companions, witty and animated in their conversation, frank and open in their manner.

At the end of the dinner the Count rose and invited us to follow him upstairs. There was to be no false modesty; each of us knew full well what was to transpire, though I did not realize just how lubricious was the Count’s imagination and how far it would manifest itself that evening. Upstairs in the Count’s bedroom he took a seat and lit a cigar, leaning back in his chair with an air of relaxed enjoyment, savoring the spectacle to come, which was to be stage-managed by himself.

“Since you boys have already seen this lady naked,” he said, “I think it only fair that Jane should lead the way now. Why don’t you undress one of them?”

This last remark was addressed to me. I chose to approach Ricardo. Smiling at him, I began to undo his shirt, not without a few surreptitious caresses of his smooth chest as I did so. Since, despite all the stimulation of the afternoon I had not had release for my desire, I was almost fully aroused at once. I divested Ricardo of his shirt and knelt to unfasten his breeches, pulling them down over his feet after unlacing his boots. I did not hesitate to strip him completely nude, quickly pulling off his drawers as well.

His cock stood out proud. I could not resist taking hold of it and rubbing it slowly, even though the Count had given no such instruction.

“Don’t go too fast,” he called out. “We’ve got all night. Strip the other one now.”

I did so, and soon both boys stood there naked.

“Come over here, Jane,” the Count said. I walked across to him and he pulled me down onto his lap. He embraced me, kissing me passionately on the mouth, his tongue snaking between my lips. Then he spoke again, this time to the boys.

“Stand close and touch each other. You know in what manner I mean.”

I watched as they each reached out a hand and took the other’s cock, gently stroking. The Count put his hand up inside my skirt, pushing gently between my legs, which I obligingly parted for him. His fingers found my cunt and began to play. “Wet,” he breathed in my ear. “Are you always wet, Jane?”

“Always when you are near,” I whispered, which was very nearly the case.

“Tell me, Jane,” he said quietly, “what should you like to see these two boys do? I will have them perform any act which pleases you. They are a couple of depraved wretches only waiting to be let loose to indulge their perverted lusts.”

He said this in an affectionate manner, smiling. I thought for a moment. I was aroused by the sight of two men touching, something I had not yet seen. When I had been in bed with the Count and Renzo, their caresses had all been directed towards me. What would I like to see?

I whispered in the Count’s ear. “Can they suck each other’s cocks?”

“Bad girl,” said the Count, laughing. Then he spoke rapidly to the two boys in Italian. They got onto the bed. One of them lay on his back and the other knelt over him, facing his feet. Each of them took the other’s cock in his mouth and began to suck. I watched, fascinated. Helen and I had conceived an urgent desire for each other, so why should not men get pleasure from each other’s bodies, if so inclined? As I watched the Count continued to fondle me under my dress. I thought this the perfect pleasure, to be stroked by one man while watching two others at play. I had become very wet indeed.

I compared the two cocks on display. Neither of them was circumcised. I judged that Ricardo’s cock was perhaps a trifle longer than Antonio’s, but not quite so thick; I thought that either of them would accommodate me nicely. Or perhaps both of them at once, I thought, bringing a blush to my cheeks once more. Would the Count really have them do anything I wanted? Anything at all?

The Count began to undress me while I still watched the two boys. Soon I too was naked. “Wait here,” said the Count, crossing the room to a drawer. He returned, carrying an object I had not seen before. It was a wooden dildo, made of polished wood, curved and carved in imitation of an erect cock. The base, however, was wide and flat. I looked at the thing, fascinated. Was the Count intending to use it on me? In his other hand I saw a curious contraption, a kind of leather belt with straps suspended from it. The Count wrapped the belt around me. Then he showed me how the wooden phallus fitted into it so that it hugged the base of my belly, sticking out like the erect cock of a man. I felt strange; it was almost like a kind of deformity, and yet I felt a strange power as I moved and felt the thing’s weight and its hardness. Was this what it felt like to be a man?

The Count led me to the bed. From the bedside table drawer he took a jar of cream. Sitting next to the boy who was kneeling, he began to anoint his ass.

“Help me, Jane,” he said, proffering the jar. I put some of it on the boy’s anus, pushing it into him with my finger until he was slippery. Then the Count rubbed some of the ointment on my wooden cock.

“Mount him,” the Count said. “Fuck his cute little ass.”

I knelt behind Ricardo as he crouched over Antonio and put my phallus to the opening of his asshole. I began to press it in. He moaned and wriggled a little. I pressed harder. I could see the dildo starting to penetrate him, the solid wooden cock entering the tight little hole. I took hold of him by the hips and thrust hard against him. My cock, for that was how I now thought of this extension, went right in. He groaned, whether a groan of pain or pleasure I was not sure, but in truth I did not care much. I was fucking a man. I meant to do it well. If it hurt him a little, so be it. He’s a slut-boy, I thought; he deserves it.

So went my thoughts as my lust swelled and burned. Underneath, Antonio still had Ricardo’s cock in his mouth, and Ricardo continued to suck him in return, though I could see that such was the vigor with which I fucked him, he was having trouble concentrating on what he was doing.

The Count sat beside us, watching avidly. From time to time he reached out his hand and stroked my ass, or smacked it playfully. After a while I found I was tiring. I was not used to this position, of kneeling to fuck someone. Perhaps a man is more used to it, or maybe men are stronger, Anyway, I pulled out of Ricardo’s ass and sat back on my haunches, panting a little.

“I want to see one of them fuck the other,” I said to the Count. I was shameless now; I had been told I might have anything I pleased, and I intended to indulge myself to the full. The Count issued more instructions in Italian. Antonio got up and placed himself behind Ricardo, who was still kneeling. I could see that Ricardo’s anus was still distended from the fucking I had given him. Antonio put his cock there and pushed it straight in.

I sat beside them. The Count took up a position on the other side, observing intently. I reached out and took hold of Ricardo’s cock as he knelt on the bed. While Antonio fucked him, I gently stroked him. I did not wish either of these boys to get off yet. There were more things I wished to do, and I needed both of them to remain full of desire. I squeezed Ricardo’s cock, then caught his balls in the palm of my hand. I knew how vulnerable a man is when his balls are caught. I squeezed them, then twisted them, and he gave a little cry. I was feeling something I had not experienced before. The Count had shown me how submissive I could be in the hands of a dominant man, one who knew his power over women and knew how to make them do as he pleased. I had been happy, indeed eager, to let the Count beat me. But now I felt power myself. These two pretty boys were horny little sluts, and I wanted to exploit them, use them, make them perform all manner of licentiousness.

Still holding Ricardo by his balls, I put my other hand on Antonio’s bottom. The Count passed me the jar of cream and I began to apply it to Antonio’s anus, sliding my slippery finger in and out until he was slick and relaxed. Then, my strength renewed, I positioned myself behind Antonio.

“Pause a moment, boy,” I said. I put my wooden cock to the tight little hole and pressed it in firmly. It went in all the way at a single, strong thrust. Antonio groaned.

“Now fuck him some more,” I said. “But slowly, so that I can fuck you too.”

I managed to synchronize my movements with Antonio, so that as he thrust forward into Ricardo, I too thrust into him. It wasn’t easy, but the trouble it took was worth it. I had a feeling of great power and excitement as I thought about what I was doing, fucking a boy who was fucking another. The Count gave me a smile of pure pleasure.

However, I found that once again I began to tire. My desire was stronger than ever, but my thighs could not sustain too much of such strenuous exercise. Then I had an idea, for further perversity. I went to the bathroom and washed the wooden dildo carefully, then came back. Antonio was still fucking Ricardo, slowly, with deliberation, as if holding himself in check. I wondered if in fact the Count had ordered both of them not to come until told to.

I got on the bed and lay on my back, positioning myself under the kneeling Ricardo, spreading my legs. The jar of cream was to hand, and I smeared some of it on the wooden dildo. Lifting up my hips, I worked it into my ass. It was a tight fit and took me a little time, but I was determined to be penetrated in this way. Once my ass was filled, I moved until my cunt was immediately under Ricardo’s head.

“Lick me, slutty boy,” I said. “Do it good or the Count will whip you.”

The Count laughed. Ricardo moved his head until he was in the right position to lick my cunt. I was pleased that he knew how to do it. I have discovered since that many men, even those anxious to oblige a lady, have not enough knowledge to perform this act satisfactorily. The man needs to discover the rhythm at which the woman wishes to go, to ascertain whether she likes the tongue across her clit, or to one side, whether she likes a finger in her cunt too, and many other refinements. Ricardo did not take long to find out which actions got the best results, licking my clit to one side, then alternating by taking it into his mouth and sucking it. Soon I was gasping with pleasure. As Ricardo continued to pleasure me with his tongue, I slowly worked the dildo in and out of my ass. Suddenly I knew that I could come, a rare event from the actions of a man. I grabbed Ricardo’s hair and ground my cunt against his mouth as I shuddered, waves of pleasure breaking over me. I rolled away.

“Are you content now?” the Count asked me.

I kissed him affectionately on the mouth. “No,” I replied. “Will you indulge me some more with these lustful boys?”

“What shall it be now?” the Count asked.

“I want to be fucked. By both of them,” I said.

I remembered the pleasure I had gotten from being doubly penetrated by the Count and Renzo, and I wished for more of the same. Once more the Count issued rapid instructions in Italian. Antonio pulled his cock from Ricardo’s ass and went into the bathroom to wash it. When he returned his cock was only half erect.

“Come here,” I said.

I had him stand in front of me while I sat on the edge of the bed. I bent forward and took him in my mouth. As I sucked on his cock, I slid a hand around his balls and massaged them gently. Soon he was as hard as I required. I made him lie on his back on the bed; I straddled him and lowered myself until my cunt was impaled on his cock. It felt good. Then I leaned forward, kissing him on the mouth. I turned and asked the Count if he would assist me. “Put Ricardo’s cock in my ass,” I said.

The Count looked delighted to be useful. Like Antonio, Ricardo had gone a little soft, but it was the work of a moment for the Count to rub his cock back to hardness. I wondered, turning my head round to watch, whether the Count might take the boy in his mouth, but he did not. Evidently, though he liked to watch boys play with each other, he had not any great desire to take part himself. His actions were reserved solely for girls.

Ricardo was now ready, The Count lubricated my ass with yet more of the cream from the jar, then smeared a little over Ricardo’s cock before putting it to my tight little ass. I held my breath as Ricardo pushed against me. Full as I was already with a cock in my cunt, and a good sized one at that, I was nervous as to whether I should be too small. Fortunately I had judged right in terms of which boy should go where, Antonio, with the thickest cock being lodged in my cunt, leaving Ricardo, slimmer in girth, to fit in my ass.

He pushed in slowly. I forced myself to open up, pushing down, but it was a very tight fit. For a time I feared it would not go without hurting me too much, perhaps even tearing me. I could not bear to think about that. But gradually I felt it inch in, little by little. Each time I thought it could not enter further, it went just a bit more. Ricardo would push a little, and then relax, even withdrawing a trifle, the better to push forward further. I appreciated his skill, but I reflected that here was a boy well practiced in buggery, and, after all, fucking a girl’s ass was in no way different from fucking a boy.

It occurred to me to wonder which he preferred. Perhaps he liked boys better, since they were tighter, unless, like now, he could use girls as he would a boy. Would he rather suck cock than kiss cunt? For the moment it did not matter; he would do whatever I required. At last his cock slid in all the way. I gasped; before taking the Count and Renzo together, I had never imagined that I could feel so full, doubly manned, my orifices well and truly plugged. To those women who have never tried such a thing, I say, it is a pleasure unlike any other.

I began to move, trying to get my thrusts to synchronize with the two boys as they each dug their cocks in deep. I turned to the Count. “Such good boys,” I whispered. “Such lovely cocks. So big and hard.”

The Count smiled at me. “Bad girl,” he said, but I could see he was delighted at what he saw. Suddenly I was seized with an impulse.

“Count,” I said, “please give me your cock to suck.”

He obliged readily, standing above me and presenting his cock so that I might take it between my lips. It was a little awkward, but I was doing this not so much because of the physical pleasure it afforded me, but because to have all three orifices penetrated by a man’s cock seemed at that moment to be the apex of my sexual achievements. What could be more complete, and what could be more debauched?

The boys continued to fuck me. I made them go slow, partly because I wished to savor the exquisite pleasure of it, but also because I had decided they would not come inside me. I had a particular idea for how I wished them to ejaculate.

The fucking went on for some time, until at last I grew impatient for the finale. I took the Count’s cock from my mouth and indicated to Ricardo that he should withdraw, which he did, gently. Then I rolled off Antonio. I could see he was disappointed, enjoying as he was his cock lodged firmly in me, but I was determined that it should be my pleasure which was paramount. I lay back on the bed and motioned to the two boys to kneel, one on each side of me. I took a cock in each hand and began to stroke it, pulling on it, rubbing the full length. I knew by now the best way to make a man come; not that all men like the same thing, but I could feel with these boys that a vigorous stroking would bring a quick result, given how much stimulation they had had.

I looked up at the two boys. There were beads of sweat on each brow. It would not be long now. I decided that I should have them consecutively, not both at once.

“Who will be first, boys?” I asked them.

“He will be first,” said Antonio quickly. “He always comes first.”

“So be it,” I said. I began to go a little more slowly on Antonio but increased the speed with which I jerked Ricardo. It did not take long. A stream of thick, creamy fluid shot from his cock, splattering my face. Some of it fell on my chest, but most was around my nose, my cheeks and my mouth. Fortunately it did not get in my eyes, though one particularly energetic spurt went onto my hair. I put my finger up to my face and scooped some of the semen up, then licked it off my finger and swallowed. I found the taste not unpleasant: a trifle salty, and earthy.

Once I had wrung every last drop from Ricardo I turned my attention to Antonio. He groaned as his semen erupted, successive bursts arching from his cock onto my face, where it mingled with that of Ricardo. I marveled at how much there was: two such horny boys, their senses inflamed for hours until they could hold back no more. I reached up and drew Antonio down to me, taking his cock in my mouth, sucking hard and draining the last dregs from his balls, then cleaning his cock with my tongue

The Count now climbed onto the bed and knelt over me. I lay back and watched as he rubbed his cock, then he too ejaculated, most of it falling on my breasts and belly. I lay back on the bed, suddenly exhausted. The semen was drying on my face, growing stiff. I could smell it, that slightly acrid odor which ever since has excited me so. I’m a cum-whore, I thought to myself. I will never get enough of this. I want it all over me, in me, everywhere, rivers of it.

The boys got off the bed and went into the bathroom, I could hear them washing. I lay and looked at the Count. “Thank you,” I said. “That was truly spectacular.”

“Such a slut,” said the Count laughing. “If only you could see yourself.”

“I should see a happy woman.”

The Count looked at me seriously. “I haven’t finished with you,” he said. “When these boys have gone we shall complete the evening’s debauch.”

I went and joined the boys in the bathroom. They seemed almost in awe of me, very deferential and respectful. I told them what nice boys they were and what a good time I had had. It is our pleasure, madam, they said. I had them wash me thoroughly all over, then dry me with towels before they left. The Count went downstairs to let them out. I lay naked on the bed, awaiting the Count’s return. He came into the room and stood at the foot of the bed, looking at me.

“What?” I said, unsure of his mood.

“You are a whore and a slut,” he said.

“And who has made me so?” I replied.

“You need discipline,” he said.

“Oh, and who is to provide it?” I had had a taste of sexual power with the two boys. I felt rebellious. I wanted to taunt him with my depravity.

Without a word he went to a drawer and took out a length of rope. He seized me and, despite my protests, quickly bound my wrists together. He tied them to the top of the bed, then fetched more rope, with which he tied my legs together. Now I was helpless.

“I am going to show you what happens to bad girls,” he said.

My heart was in my mouth. I could see he was aroused despite his earlier ejaculation, seized by a fit of sexual cruelty such as I had not seen in him before. He bent over me and put his lips close to my ear.

“So,” he hissed, “you like to take control? You like to feel your power over men?”

I couldn’t give him a coherent answer. I mumbled something to the effect that he had let me do this.

“Yes, I let you,” he said. “Do you know why? I wanted to see just what impulses lurked in your slutty little brain. So now we know; you think you can be in charge? I will show you what happens to presumptuous girls, girls who do not know their place.”

I was dimly aware that all this was a game. He was inventing reasons for spanking me, simply because it made him feel lustful, and because he thought it would have the same effect on me. Which undoubtedly it did, but it was a game in deadly earnest. Clearly he did intend to teach me some kind of lesson. He was going to show me some truths about the nature of our relationship, and about myself. That the lesson would be a painful one I had no doubt.

From the drawer by the bed he took the cane. This time there was to be no warm-up, no more or less gentle introduction to pain, giving me time to get used to it, giving time for the endorphins to flow so that pain was transmuted to pleasure. This time it would be the cane right from the start, and that he would wield it with severity I was in no doubt. I began to plead with him for mercy. In a way this was another part of the game; and yet I did genuinely fear that I should not be able to sustain the beating I was about to receive. What if the pain was too much and he would not stop? I was now completely helpless, bound head and foot. Did I trust him not to harm me? I remembered that he had given me a safe word. But could I recall the exact form of words? And if I did, would he respect it?

The Count tapped the cane lightly against my bare bottom. “I allow you to play with boys for my amusement,” he said. “But it doesn’t change what you are. So tell me: what are you?”

I thought for a moment. What was I expected to say? The impulse towards rebellion was still there, though I know not whence it came. Why did I want to ask for more trouble; was I not in enough already?

“I’m a girl who likes to gratify her instincts,” I said. “I respect you, sir, because you are a mature man, but I cannot be expected to submit to horny boys.”

“That’s the wrong answer, Jane,” he said. “I can see that I shall have to teach you the correct one.”

Without warning he lashed the cane full across the centre of my bottom. I let out a yell. The pain seared through me; in vain I struggled against my bonds.

“Tell me what you are,” he said.

So began the hardest beating I had yet sustained. He was determined to get his way; he would break me, no matter what it took. There was still some pride in me, a desire to show him what I was capable of and that I was not a girl easily browbeaten, not forced into submission. But there was a limit to what I could endure, and it soon became clear to me that the Count intended to go to that point, and if necessary beyond it. He must have struck me a score of times with the cane, each blow carefully measured, delivered with precision to the centre of my behind. It was not long before it felt aflame, the pain searing deep into my flesh. The cane cut deep, so much so that I feared the skin must be broken, the flesh laid bare. I was shaking, desperately but uselessly seeking to escape my bonds. There was no escape.

The Count paused. I sobbed as he stood over me. I felt his hand upon my lacerated flesh, soothing me. But was this only preparation for a further onslaught.

“Now, Jane,” he said sternly. “I shall ask you again. What are you?”

To tell the truth I was not entirely sure of the answer he required. But I could not go on.

“I am a slut, sir,” I said, between sobs.

“And what else?” he demanded.

“I do not know, sir,” I whimpered.

He struck me again with the cane. I wailed.

“Well?” he said.

“I am your whore, sir, I am your creature. I am your submissive. I bow before you, I kneel, and I kiss your feet.” All this came out in a rush; I hoped this might be enough to ward off further punishment.

“Before I have finished, there is one more thing that I shall make you. Do you know what it is?”

“No, sir, but I am whatever you wish me to be.” Would this be enough to placate him?

“I shall make you a good girl, Jane,” the Count said. “You will have three more strokes of the cane to ensure this.”

“No, sir, please, no, please,” I begged. “I will be good.” Desperately I sought for the phrase I had been given, the safe word. I could not find it.

“Three more,” he said. “Harder than before.”

“No,” I screamed. “No!”

Once more the cane tapped against my bottom, my poor throbbing, aching bottom. I braced myself. In truth, I do not know how I got through those final strokes. I think that for a moment I lost consciousness. Or did I go into subspace, floating away on a cloud of total submission? At any rate, it was over. The Count released me from my bonds and held me tight. For an hour or so he stroked my hair, kissed me softly, and held me close. And then, very gently and slowly, he fucked me.