Cauldron of Fear (23 page)

'Preparing the
dishes for serving, Prudence?' he chuckled. Soberton, who was
beginning to look far the worse for drink, stared from his host to
Prudence with a total lack of comprehension. Grayling's laugh
became harsher.

'Ha!' he
exclaimed. 'No matter, dear Prudence. You shall have the two little
lambs for your supper when I am done with them here. You see,
milord,' he continued, turning to address his guest, 'we have found
that there is a great market for a certain type of wench and these
two here, though they'll ride a cock as well as any, I'd wager,
show inclinations towards being that particular type of slave of
which I speak.'

'Ha, sir, you
speak in riddles, methinks!' Soberton exclaimed, trying very hard
to focus his eyes. 'A maid'll either ride a cock well, or else
she's an old maid, surely?'

'Yes... and
no,' Grayling smiled. 'Both these have had a good poking or two
since they got here and both ended up squawking like stuck
chickens, I'm told, but earlier you saw a different side to both,
did you not? Well sir, 'tis not only we fellows who would give well
for a pretty bird and a good fuck, eh Prudence?'

Prudence said
nothing, but the inference remained lost on the drunken aristocrat.
Grayling opened his mouth as if he were about to elucidate,
hesitated, appeared to realise that further words would be a waste
of time, and then shut it again. Instead, he turned away to where
his two African girls waited in their corner and clapped his
hands.

Immediately
the diminutive creatures sprang up, their unfettered breasts
jiggling freely as they ran a cross the room to flank their master,
sheer adoration shining from their huge eyes. They seemed to know
exactly what was expected for them, for having paused long enough
just for Grayling to tweak a nipple each, they suddenly dropped to
their knees and slid beneath the two bound white girls, squatting
on their haunches, facing the feet of their respective woman, their
upturned faces mere inches away from the two bared sexes.

'The kiss of
the whip is one thing,' Grayling purred, 'the kiss of the tongue is
another. Put the two together and we create a thing of pure
beauty.'

'I don't
follow, man!' Soberton exclaimed. 'Just what are you getting
at?'

'Well, my
lord,' Grayling said, 'prepare yourself for a new education. My two
little Nubian beauties here have tongues the like of which no white
woman has ever been possessed. Why, I suspect they may even be
descended from the serpent in the Garden of Eden itself.' He
clapped his hands again and made a flickering movement with his
tongue.

Immediately
the two black girls stuck out their own tongues and Soberton gave a
cry of astonishment, for both girls easily curled their tongues in
great loops, so that their tips touched not just the tips of their
noses, but the very bridges themselves.

'Good God,
sir!' Soberton exclaimed again. 'But they are a pair of little
serpents and no mistaking!'

It was a good
analogy, as Sarah and Kitty quickly found out. Another signal from
Grayling and the crouching girls went to work. Sarah gasped, her
startled moans forcing their way past her gag as the warm appendage
pushed its way inside her, parting her labial lips easily and
penetrating almost as far as Ross's member had earlier.

Almost
immediately her girl's fulsome lips seemed to clamp about Sarah's
swollen clitoris, sucking it out to an unbelievably distended
length and sending fiery currents of desire swirling throughout her
every nerve ending. She was dimly aware of Kitty's eyes growing
even larger above her gagged mouth and realised that the other
girl's tongue was having just the same effect upon her.

'Excellent,'
Grayling said with quiet satisfaction. 'You see, milord, how they
can work a cunny, eh? Every bit as good as they are at sucking a
man's cock, I can tell you.' He laughed and continued to pace up
and down, stooping every so often to study the girls' progress.

'See here,
milord,' he invited, bending down to examine between Sarah's
splayed thighs. 'Have you ever seen a nubbin stretch to such
length? Hold Topsy, loose your devilish little grip for a moment.'
He clicked his fingers and Sarah felt her clitoris sliding from
between the soft lips. At the same time, Soberton moved around to
see for himself.

'By Jove!' he wheezed. 'Damn you, Grayling, name me a price
for
her
, at least.
You'll still have the one with the big titties, for heaven's
sake!'

Hannah
Pennywise halted less than a hundred yards on from the clearing
where she had left Jane Handiwell. A fallen tree, long dead and
rotted and victim of the previous winter's storms, lay half across
what there was of the track she'd been following and she eased down
onto it, sighing heavily.

'Well, little
Miss Janey,' she said, voicing her thoughts out loud, 'a lot of use
you intends to be, unless I'm mistaken, which I knows I ain't.' Her
eyes narrowed and her wrinkled forehead furrowed even deeper in
concentration.

'I reckons
you've got more to hide than just your tomfoolery efforts at
witchin',' she mused. 'But one thing's for certain, you ain't got
nothing to do with Wickstanner's wicked doin's and you don't know
what's happened to the lad, neither.'

Pausing and
straightening somewhat, Hannah lifted her head, sniffing the
breeze. She remained thus for two or three minutes, her eyes half
closed, yet not blinking, her breathing barely noticeable. At last,
she relaxed again.

'Ah,' she
whispered, 'so that's it, is it? Well, you're closer than I
thought, my lad, and at least you're more than just alive. And
what's this?' She stiffened again, her head inclining to one side,
a cunning smile spreading across her weathered features.

'Well, well,'
she hissed, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her cane even
more tightly. 'So comes the keeper, eh? And fresh with the smell of
his devilish excesses, too. Well, we'll soon see about this, won't
we?'

With a stifled
grunt, Hannah pulled herself back to her feet and then, with one
curious glance back towards where the clearing was now hidden by
trees and bushes, she manoeuvred around the rotting tree and began
to move even deeper into the woods.

The two women and the three lads walked together along the
lane towards the crossroads and the
Black
Drum
. Late though the hour now was, they
knew the small taproom at the rear of the inn would still be open,
for although most of the travellers who were staying overnight
would like as not have taken to their beds by now, there were
always a few local men happy to drink on into the night and ever
the chance that there would still be others on the road, seeking
shelter and refreshment for a few hours.

Sure enough,
as Harriet pushed open the door a dozen pairs of eyes - male, apart
from Lizzie Eldridge, who was performing her usual late serving
duties - turned towards her. Ignoring the men, Harriet made for
Lizzie, only to be told that Master Handiwell had not yet returned
from the coast. Harriet thought for a few moments, considering the
possible courses of action that remained open to them. They were
not many.

'Mistress
Jane,' she said eventually, 'is she at home?'

Lizzie looked
blank. 'I'm blessed if I know, Miss Harriet,' she said. 'We don't
hardly see her down here. I can pop up and see if Beth, her maid,
is awake, though it's quite late, you know.'

'Yes, I do
know,' Harriet said apologetically, 'and I should not be here at
this hour, were it not a matter of great importance.'

Leaving Anne
to deal with any more orders for ale, Lizzie disappeared through a
curtained doorway. Anne drew closer to Harriet and whispered in her
ear.

'Why ask for
Jane?' she asked urgently. 'You surely can't expect her to be of
much use? She's a queer one, and no mistaking.'

'Maybe so,'
Harriet replied, 'but I've been thinking since we left your cottage
and something has been eating away at me. Jane Handiwell has no
time for me anyway, but I just have a feeling that something here
is sitting all wrong.'

A few minutes
later Lizzie reappeared, shaking her head.

'Beth reckons
Miss Jane is fast asleep and has been these past two or three
hours,' she informed them. 'Reckons it's more than her job's worth
to wake her, whatever the reason.'

'I see,'
Harriet replied thoughtfully. 'Well, I thank you, Lizzie.'

'Would you
like to wait for the master?' Lizzie suggested. 'The little parlour
is empty and I could fetch you something, maybe some wine?'

'No, thank you
all the same,' Harriet replied, smiling. 'Perhaps we shall return
in a while, but for the moment I think I need some air and a little
exercise. The thought of just sitting in the one place would drive
me to my wits' end.'

The three boys
were waiting for them outside, Toby not wanting to risk entering
the taproom in case his father Ned, an habitual late night drinker,
should be inside. He greeted the news that Ned had not been present
with some surprise and not a small amount of sarcasm.

'Probably
started early and gone off to sleep it off,' he muttered. 'There's
a few comfortable ditches hereabouts.'

'You hold your
tongue, Toby Blaine!' Anne snapped. 'Show a bit of respect for
once.' She turned to Harriet. 'So, what next?' she asked.

Harriet pursed
her lips thoughtfully. 'Toby,' she said, 'you were saying earlier
about Lady Ellen's two horses?'

'S'right,' he
agreed. 'Know 'em both well. Both fine beasts.'

'What about
Miss Jane's horse? Does she always ride the same one?'

'Mostly,' he
said. 'That big bugger, Marquis. Black as the night, he is.'

'You know him
well, then?'

'Pretty much,
miss, yes. We all sees her out riding. She's often over towards the
downs.'

'On her
own?'

'Um, mostly,
yeah,' Toby said.

'Seen her
riding with Kate Dawson a couple of times,' Matt Cornwell
offered.

'And with Lady
Jane,' Billy Dodds added, 'though only the once, I think.'

Anne looked
closely at Harriet's face, but Harriet's expression remained
impassive.

'You ain't
thinkin' what I think you're thinkin', are you?' she asked quietly.
Harriet let out a long, low breath.

'I'm not sure
what I'm thinking,' she replied. 'Too many unexplained things, too
many possible coincidences. However,' she continued, looking
meaningfully towards the boys again, 'there's one thing we can
check out for certain.

'Toby, I want
you to go around to the stables, if you please. Tell whoever is on
duty in there that I wish to discuss the possibility of hiring a
mount until the morning. Tell him I am waiting here, under the
light. Then, when he comes around to see me, I want you to sneak
inside and see if you can see this Marquis.'

'No need for
that, Miss Harriet,' Anne interrupted before Toby could move.
'Master keeps his three mounts and a couple more, including
Marquis, in the smaller stables, over there, under them trees by
the paddock, see?' She pointed towards a low, darkened building
about fifty yards from the main stable block.

'It'll be
locked for the night, then, surely?' Harriet said.

'Surely it
will,' Anne said, 'but I knows where they keeps the key. Give me a
couple of pennies to slip Lizzie and I'll go fetch it for you.'

Sarah felt as
though she were in the midst of a dream, drifting weightlessly on
clouds of lust and desire, the long tongue thrusting in and out of
her taking on a life of its own, coaxing from her some inner self
that she would never have believed existed. Oblivious to everything
but the warm, wet little invader and to the eager and nimble little
fingers that now teased her nipples, she sucked languidly on the
penis gag, groaning and writhing gently in her bonds.

The stinging
cut of Roderick Grayling's crop, as it hissed across her raised
buttocks, brought her screeching out of her reverie, bucking in
agony, her teeth clamping on the leather that held them apart,
Kitty's head writhing in time with her own. A second later she
heard the sharp crack of leather on flesh again, but this time it
was Kitty who howled and jerked.

All the while
the two black slave girls remained at their tasks, tongues lapping
and probing, lips massaging and sucking.

'Pain and
pleasure,' Sarah heard Grayling say. 'Such bittersweet harmony, I
always think. See, Soberton, how even the kiss of my lash does
little to dull their desires. In fact, you will see that, if
anything, a well-placed stripe or three will actually serve to
heighten them. See here!'

He moved back
behind Sarah as he spoke and again the braided crop fizzed through
the air. The report seemed to echo inside Sarah's very head, yet,
though her anguished cry was scarcely stifled by her gag, the fire
in her ravaged nether cheeks seemed merely to merge with the
furnaces already burning within her.

As the crop
descended upon Kitty for a second time Sarah let out a long wail,
her back arching and stiffening like a board, her stomach
tightening like a bow-string and then releasing, as an orgasm of
the greatest proportions drove everything else from her
consciousness. She was not even aware that in front of her, joined
to her by their communal gag, Kitty too had finally surrendered to
her body's demands.

And neither
girl, each as helpless to resist as the other, either heard, or
cared, as Roderick Grayling chuckled evilly to himself and Henry
Soberton, his hands pressed tightly to his crotch, ejaculated madly
inside his fine silk breeches.

'Would anyone
else ride Marquis?' Harriet asked Anne, after the boys had returned
from the paddock stable with the news that Jane's big black
stallion was not in any of the stalls there. 'How about her father?
Might he have taken the horse to go to Portsmouth?'