Gracefully Aroused: The Best of K D Grace (6 page)

BOOK: Gracefully Aroused: The Best of K D Grace
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‘It’s already broken.’ She stood and slipped into a robe. Even in his agitated state, he was sorry. He’d grown used to her nakedness. He felt strangely bereft without that intimacy. She extinguished the candles one by one. Outside, a heavy moon hung over the trees.

Mick drifted through the next few days in a fog. He thought about Sally lying naked, watching him dream, about the way she had cleared his head with her scent, with her taste, with her touch. He shook the memory away. He didn’t want to think about her. He had known what he wanted before Sally Haddon. There had been certainty. Now there was none.

Sally promised the spell was broken, and yet the world seemed different, darker somehow. Except when he thought of her. Strange that. She was the cause of his disquiet. He should be outraged at her. Instead there were butterflies in his chest when he thought of her.

He went to the break room for coffee, but there was none. Cursing to himself, he set about making a fresh pot. At the corner table two secretaries chatted. The heavyset one he had overheard talking with Darlene spoke quietly. ‘His wife took the kids and went home to her mother in Manchester.’

‘That’s too bad,’ the secretary from accounts said. ‘Ben loves his kids so much.’

Mick held his breath and listened.

‘But he’s not willing to give up Darlene,’ the heavyset one said.

Mick’s stomach dropped to the floor, as the secretary continued, oblivious to him. ‘Thing is, he doesn’t have Darlene. You saw what she did to Ted Engels.’

The accounts secretary shook her head. ‘Poor Ben. He’s too naïve to see it.’

Mick left without coffee. For the rest of the day he buried himself in work. Somewhere in the swirl of numbers and accounts that kept his mind off things, he looked up to find everyone else had gone home. But he didn’t want to go home. He wanted to go to Sally Haddon, but he doubted she’d be very happy to see him as rude as he’d been to her. He kept working.

‘Burning the midnight oil, are we?’ He turned to find Darlene standing with one hand on the perfect curve of her hip, the other blocking the exit of his cubicle.

His heart bounced in his chest, and he struggled to return his gaze to his spread sheet. ‘Always work to be done.’ He hoped she didn’t hear his pulse hammering in his voice.

‘Isn’t there just.’

He could see her reflection in his monitor as she watched him. The downward curl of her lips said she didn’t appreciate him looking at anything that wasn’t her. He saw the impatient heave of her breasts before she pushed her way in, grabbed his chair and swivelled it around until he was looking down the gaping front of her blouse. Then she gave his cock a solicitous stroke through his trousers.

Before he could do anything more than gasp, she took his mouth, lips parted, tongue insinuating itself between his teeth. No canker, no sharp teeth, he struggled to reassure himself while she nibbled his bottom lip.

She came up for air. ‘I’ve seen you watching me. I know what you want.’ She lifted her skirt until he could see her smooth, knickerless cunt. But the cubicle lighting played tricks on his eyes, giving her skin a rough green tint. He blinked and tried to push her away, but she spread her legs and parked her bare pussy on his lap against his crotch, which should have been bursting at the seam. Isn’t this exactly what he wanted? Why wasn’t he hard?

She guided his hand inside her blouse against the swell of her breast, the place he’d fantasised about touching, licking, sucking. But the smooth skin he had imagined was rough, scaly. His stomach churned. As he struggled to pull free, he caught their reflection in the monitor, cankered lips, teeth grown large and jagged, skin discoloured. With an effort that nearly ended with her on her arse, he fought his way up from the chair with her cursing in surprise.

Just then Ben called from down the hall. ‘Darlene? Honey? I’m ready.’

She straightened her clothes.

‘The man has kids,’ Mick said.

She looked up from buttoning her blouse. ‘So?’

He stood looking at her once again beautiful face. ‘Watching you was wrong. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’ He grabbed his jacket and pushed past her, catching a glimpse of teeth and canker in his peripheral vision. Just before he turned to go, he caught sight of his own face reflected in the monitor. It was smooth and pink except for the hint of stubble.

Sally answered the door in her robe. Before she could speak, Mick scooped her into his arms and kissed her. To his delight, she was responsive and warm. When she pulled away, he spoke in a rush. ‘The spell? You’re sure it’s broken?’

‘Positive.’

He felt an icy chill. ‘Then what did I just experience at work with Darlene?’

She led him upstairs while he told her what had happened in breathless, run-on sentences. Still talking, he followed her inside the circle. As she lit candles, he savoured the air effervescing against his fragile pink ordinary skin.

‘Is Darlene some kind of monster?’

‘There are creatures that survive on sex, some human, some not.’ Sally slipped out of her robe, and his cock surged in response. ‘Our bodies bear the flaws of our souls.’ As she spoke, she undressed him. ‘If we can see our flaws, we can work to heal them. The danger lies in not being able to see.’

‘Then what I saw was real?’

‘Oh, it was real all right, Mick. Just not everyone is able to see.’

‘Did you know?’

‘I suspected. I’m a witch, remember?’

He looked around at the lit candles. ‘Why the circle?’ He forced a laugh. ‘Do I need an exorcism?’

She held his gaze. ‘The circle is a safe place for a love spell.’

‘I don’t want a love spell! Not after what’s happened.’ He stepped away from her, nearly falling backward over the cushions, but she caught his hand and steadied him.

‘Mick, the love spell has already been cast. You cast it the first moment you lusted for Darlene, just like Ted and Ben did. Just like Darlene did on all of you.’

‘Jesus!’ He sat down hard atop the cushions, fearing for a second that he might pass out.

‘Love spells need no witch. They need only the power of human desire. Every day people cast love spells unknowingly. Some are harmless, some are beautiful with astonishing results. Others are devastating, as you’ve just seen.’

‘Then what happens now?’

Sally sat down next to him and shoved his shirt off his shoulders. ‘You willingly faced your flaws. That’s a powerful defence, powerful enough to break Darlene’s spell. That was the key. When you arrived, you were already steeped in Darlene’s magic.’ He yielded as she slid his trousers and boxers off and tossed them aside. ‘Then while you were here, you didn’t realise, but you cast another love spell.’

‘Wait a minute, how could I have…?’

She kissed him, lingering until his whole body tingled with the want of her. Then she guided his hand down to cup her pubis, and as she arched against his fingers with a soft grunt, he understood.

She whispered against his mouth. ‘I assume you’ve come back so we can shape that spell into something a little less flawed and something a lot more yummy.’

He breathed in the honeyed scent of her as he stroked and probed her slippery folds. Just when he thought she was about to come, she pulled away and buried her face against his cock, tonguing the underside, making him squirm and writhe in the cushions before she took him fully into her mouth and moved up and down the shaft like a tight fist.

‘Are you gonna fuck me?’ he gasped.

‘If you need me to,’ she breathed.

‘Oh, I need you to.’

She positioned herself and he pushed into her, gasping as she wrapped her legs around him, tightening her velvety grip. As they moved against each other, he understood completely what a good love spell should be. When they came together, he swore he could almost see the intricate weave of that spell glowing like a halo around their fragile, normal bodies as the magic they created spilled over the circle and out into the moonlit night.

Hard Times at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility

It could have passed as a coach excursion through the scenic Surrey hills, but Sadie knew better. This was her bus to an indefinite period of miserable celibacy; at least that was what she thought when she and three other women stepped off the coach in front of the main wing at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility.

They were met by a tall woman dressed in a riding habit and a conservative tweed jacket that failed miserably to disguise her delicious curves. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun. Her boots were polished to a high sheen, and she carried a riding crop under one arm that made Sadie’s heart skip a beat. She certainly hoped the woman knew how to use it.

‘Listen up,’ the woman shouted in a voice that was standard military issue. ‘I’m Ms Greuber, assistant warden.’ Her face became earnest, like she was doing an advert for some local charity. ‘You may not know it, but nymphomania is nearing epidemic proportions in Surrey, and here at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility the problem is being dealt with discreetly, and thoroughly. You’re all here because you’ve admitted you can’t control your sexual appetites, and we’re here to help you curb those appetites and channel your energy in more productive endeavours.’ She paced in front of the four women, stopping to inspect each one in turn.

Sadie was already horny from the bouncy ride on the coach, and the big, beautiful woman standing in front of her so assertive, so tough, did nothing to ease her pussy or her distended nipples, doing their best to drill through her thin summer shirt.

‘You’re not wearing a bra.’

Sadie shook her head. ‘It’s too hot.’

Ms Greuber gave Sadie’s 38Cs a rough squeeze. ‘Nevertheless, in future you’ll wear a bra, or you’ll suffer the consequences.’ She gave Sadie’s tits a smart flick with the riding crop that made them sting and bounce dangerously beneath her shirt. Her pussy got wetter. The woman then cupped Sadie’s breasts as though she was weighing them. ‘You’ll need proper coverage and support.’

Ms Greuber turned and paced onward. ‘All residents will attend evening prayer. You’ll find it makes the nights easier. The dorm is in the South Wing. Your uniforms and new undergarments are on the foot of your beds. You will be unpacked, changed and in the chapel in one hour.’

Trussed up in a knee-length pleated skirt of some scratchy synthetic fabric, a heavy cotton blouse, and a bra and knickers her grandmother would have found prudish, Sadie trudged off to the chapel, seriously thinking of running away, and she hadn’t even been here two hours.

The chapel was hot and stuffy and full of sweaty female bodies dressed just like she was. She found a seat in the back and sat despondently while the organ blared something that wasn’t Bach. They had just stood for the processional when a dark-haired woman, breathing heavily, slipped into the pew next to her. She grabbed a hymnal, opened it, and moved close to Sadie, holding it up for her. ‘You’re new,’ she breathed. Sadie barely heard her over the voices, but there was no denying the feel of her warm breath against her ear, nor the way the woman brushed her small, pert breast against Sadie’s arm when she leant in to whisper, ‘I’m Carol.’ Her lips brushed Sadie’s earlobe.

‘I’m Sadie.’

‘Shortage of hymnals in the back rows,’ Carol said, holding the book open for Sadie to share.

‘I don’t sing,’ Sadie replied.

Carol moved in closer. ‘Neither do I.’ She turned slightly, insinuating her breast against Sadie’s arm once more.

‘You’re not wearing a bra. I got in trouble for that.’

‘No knickers either,’ Carol whispered. ‘Want a feel?’

Her proposition made Sadie forget all about broken rules. She pressed closer to Carol, pretending to be immersed in the words of the song. Slowly, carefully, she inched her fingers up Carol’s skirt until she felt her bare, silken thigh and saw her eyelids flutter and her breath catch. She was suddenly very thankful for the long, shapeless skirts. They made exploring easier, and the magnificent thigh was a promise of things to come. She felt Carol shift slightly, and she knew instinctively she was opening her legs just enough for Sadie to have a good feel.

Sadie’s old-lady knickers were drenched clear through their practical cotton crotch as she slipped her fingers onto Carol’s smoothly shaven mound, even softer than her thigh. The woman shuddered at her touch. Sadie could smell the salty sweetness of aroused pussy, pussy other than her own, and her mouth watered for a taste. She was just about to slip her fingers into Carol’s waiting pout when the song ended and everyone sat down. The two breathlessly followed suit.

Chaplain Carlton approached the lectern. As he droned on about purity, Sadie had a hard time paying attention, with Carol’s hand stroking her thigh.

‘His cock’s nice and thick,’ Carol whispered very softly, nodding to the chaplain.

‘You’ve fucked him?’

‘God no, but I’ve seen his cock plenty of times. He may be celibate, but he’s always ready for a good wank, especially when it comes to overseeing the penance of naughty girls.’ She slipped her hand under Sadie’s skirt.

‘He’s not bad looking,’ Sadie whispered. The man was deep-chested, greying at the temples, and wore Indiana Jones glasses, which suited him well.

‘He loves to watch when we’re being punished. Watch and wank. That’s a part of what makes this place so much fun.’

‘Fun?’

‘You’ll see.’ She took Sadie’s hand and pulled her off the pew onto the kneelers as they all began to pray.

Carol laid her head on the pew in front of her as though she was deeply repentant, but it wasn’t prayer she was interested in. With sleight of hand that would have impressed any magician, Carol’s fingers were once again under Sadie’s skirt and straight into her knickers.

But just when Sadie was about to get some relief, Ms Greuber appeared out of nowhere, standing at the end of the pew, looking positively explosive.

‘I’m in trouble,’ Carol whispered, giving Sadie’s clit a little tweak. ‘Trust me, around here, the punishment is worth the crime.’ She gave a discreet nod toward the assistant warden and licked her top lip hungrily. Then Carol was jerked from the kneeler and practically dragged down the aisle of the chapel as everyone stood to sing the closing hymn.

That gave Sadie the opportunity to slip out quietly and follow Ms Greuber and Carol at a safe distance. She was way too intrigued not to risk it.

She followed them across the car park and down to the paddock, just managing to duck behind a hedge as the two women turned into the stables. Sadie had forgotten that the brochure for the place had promised that riding in the fresh Surrey air was therapeutic. As she peeked around the door, she saw Ms Greuber and Carol in the tack room. She ducked into an empty stall, behind a bale of straw, to watch.

‘As part of your punishment, Carol, you’ll be keeping my tack clean and well polished for the next week.’ The woman ran her hand lovingly over a saddle mounted on the rail of a stable, in which stood a large black stallion shifting from foot to foot. ‘Vindicator and I go for a ride every morning and evening.’ She held Carol’s gaze. ‘And I’ll know if you haven’t done a good job.’ She slapped the crop against her hand.

‘As for the rest of your punishment …’ She slipped the end of the riding crop under the edge of Carol’s skirt, lifting it until even Sadie, in her hiding place, could see Carol’s lovely bare cunt. ‘Wearing no knickers is just one of the many rules you’ve broken tonight, Carol Owens.’

Carol stood trembling, with her pussy exposed, as Ms Greuber undid the top several buttons of her blouse and ran a hand inside. Then she nodded as though she was a doctor pronouncing a diagnosis. ‘No bra either, and that in front of a poor girl I just reprimanded for not wearing a bra. What must the poor thing have thought? How you must have tempted her. I know how much you love to fondle full, heavy breasts like hers, but you must learn self-control.’

Ms Greuber made no attempt to remove her hand from Carol’s tits. Sadie could see that she had manoeuvred the edge of the riding crop between Carol’s pussy lips, and Carol was practically humping it.

‘Stop that,’ Ms Greuber commanded. ‘Bend over and grab the stable rail.’

Carol did as she was told, and Ms Greuber shed her jacket and turtleneck, beneath which she wore a silky vest which revealed a deep, delicious cleavage even more dramatic than Sadie’s. That done, she lifted Carol’s skirt up over her hips until her round little bottom was exposed in its entirety, then she tapped the riding crop against the inside of Carol’s knees, making her spread her feet apart until her swollen pout was perfectly displayed. Then the riding crop came down with an angry
thwack
and Carol whimpered.

‘You played with that poor girl’s pussy, didn’t you? Didn’t you?’ The crop came down again.

‘I couldn’t help it. She was so hot.’

‘Did you let her touch you down here?’

Carol nodded.

‘Did she make you come?’

Sadie’s hand had already found its way into her old-lady knickers, but her cunt positively gushed when Ms Greuber inserted her middle finger up into Carol’s pussy and probed.

‘I was so close, but then you saw us.’ Carol moaned, rotating her hips against the finger, her little nether hole clenching as she did so.

There was a soft shuffling, and Sadie turned to see Chaplain Carlton standing in the shadow of the stable door, fly unzipped, heavy cock straining in his hand. Bloody hell, the punishment was worth the crime, Sadie thought as she tweaked her clit, which felt almost as hard as the good chaplain’s penis.

‘You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?’ Now Sadie’s attention was divided between the wanking chaplain and Carol’s punishment as Ms Greuber inserted another finger. ‘You feel awfully wet for someone who didn’t come.’ She brought down the riding crop again on Carol’s bottom, now pink with welts. Carol whimpered and squirmed, and the chaplain tugged harder on his cock.

‘I swear I didn’t come,’ Carol whined.

But Sadie could tell from the way she clenched and rocked against Ms Greuber’s fingers that Carol’s orgasm was close.

Ms Greuber pulled her up from the railing to face her. ‘We can’t be responsible for tempting others. We all have to conform to the rules.’ She grabbed Carol’s hand and pressed it against her expansive breasts, huge nipples now assaulting the silken vest. ‘You see, I wear a bra, and knickers.’ She guided Carol’s other hand into her trousers, a place Carol was clearly happy to explore, and the catch of Ms Greuber’s breath, the flutter of her eyelids, told Sadie Carol had found what she was looking for.

‘Make me come,’ Carol whispered. ‘Please, make me come and I’ll make you come too. I swear I’ll clean your tack for the rest of my stay, with my tongue if you want, just please.’

The assistant warden’s hand was instantly under Carol’s skirt, stroking furiously, and for a second the two women strained against each other, gasping and moaning, then Carol let out a little yelp. ‘Oh God, Ms Greuber. I’m coming. It’s so good.’ The woman only responded in heavy grunts as she trembled against Carol, the mounds of her tits nearly tumbling over the top of her vest.

Just then the chaplain erupted like a fountain in viscous spurts against the stable door. That was enough to send Sadie’s pussy into spasms.

When the chaplain tucked in his cock and slinked away, and Ms Greuber left mounted on Vindicator, Sadie sneaked out from her hiding place to where Carol stood happily polishing an extra saddle. She didn’t seem surprised to see Sadie.

‘Greuber and the chaplain, they can get you off, but if you want cock –’ she gave Sadie’s tits a caress ‘– then you need to see the warden.’

‘And how do I do that?’

‘Trust me, I have a foolproof plan.’

Their plan had gone like clockwork. Sadie kept her eyes lowered, but not out of respect for the warden. She was looking at his cock straining the seams of his trousers. Carol said he always got a hard-on when it came to doling out punishment.

His crisp pinstriped suit accentuated his broad shoulders. He was clean shaven, every blond hair in place, and he smelled as though he’d just stepped out of the shower. Sadie so admired dapper men.

She, on the other hand, with her mussed auburn hair coming loose from its demure ponytail, with the pleats of her modest skirt hanging uneven, with her white blouse, untucked, gaping dangerously above her full breasts, looked guilty as charged. She was trembling, but not from fear – well, just a little, maybe.

The warden paced. ‘The chaplain says you were masturbating in the library.’

She whimpered. ‘Please, sir, I couldn’t help it.’ She quivered at the memory. The chaplain had thought she couldn’t see him half hidden behind the shelf, his hand thrust deep in his pocket, moving in tight little jerking motions as he observed her. Knowing he was watching her play with herself had only made her stroking more pleasurable.

Carol had been right: once the chaplain had come, he grabbed her by the shoulder and marched her straight in to see the warden.

‘The poor man was horrified.’ The warden stopped pacing, grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her closer. ‘Where’s your brassiere?’ He gave her left tit a hard squeeze, nearly causing it to pop out of the gaping blouse as he ran his thumb over her nipple, pinkly visible through the fabric. ‘Do you realise how provocative this is? You’ll incite other residents to lewd acts.’

‘My bra’s so uncomfortable,’ she whined. ‘It doesn’t fit right. When I wear it, my nipples ache. I rub them to make them feel better, and I get so turned on. My titties are so sensitive. Please, it’s not my fault.’

‘I’m sorry, but you have to be taught restraint.’ He moved a step closer, slipped his hand up under Sadie’s skirt, and stroked the wet crotch of her knickers.

She let out a breathy little moan as he traced an accusing finger along her slit.

‘You’re still slippery from your transgressions,’ he grunted. ‘The chaplain said your pussy was all wet and splayed and swollen for the world to see.’ His fingers pressed deeper into her, knickers and all. His breathing accelerated. ‘He said you were leaning up against the shelves in the reference section with your panties pulled aside, your fingers way up inside you, thrusting and moaning so hard you didn’t even see him.’ He lifted her hand to his nose and sniffed, then groaned as he gave her a hard stroke. ‘I can still smell your shameful efforts,’ he said breathlessly.

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