House Rules (15 page)

Margaret had never found it necessary to gag him before, and he wondered why she had done so this time. She must have something quite painful in mind if he had to be silenced beforehand. Margaret’s expression gave no hint of her purpose, and in any case it was far too late to protest. He could only wait helplessly for her to get on with whatever it was. He felt he was trapped in a dream that was both frightening and terribly exciting.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to wait very long. Margaret felt his distended cheeks to satisfy herself that the air pressure was right. Then she pulled the tube from the inflation orifice of his gag and laid the pump on the floor beside the bed. She put her hand against his shoulder, pushing him back until he lost his balance and fell helplessly backward on to the bed, his bound wrists under him. Margaret lifted his legs and manoeuvered his body until he was lying wholly on the bed. She sat down beside him, resuming her manipulation of his cock.

He was helpless to interfere with her handling of him, and he felt his excitement grow as he thought of her complete domination of the situation. He shuddered with pleasure as Margaret lifted his balls from between his legs and cupped them with her free hand.

She stroked his cock until he thought he must come. As if sensing the imminence of his release, Margaret let go of him and sat watching as he struggled to make her go on. Soon it became obvious she had no intention of continuing: she was enjoying his arousal and his inability to do anything about it. His breath was short and rapid, and he felt as if he were burning up. Margaret watched coolly until he showed signs of subsiding. Then she once more grasped his cock and balls and resumed his arousal, stopping once more just short of orgasm.

Richard had read of such teasing, but had never experienced it – nor had he expected to. It was not the sort of thing the women he had known enjoyed. And until now, he had not known what he had been missing. Margaret was an expert at keeping him forever on the brink, but never going that last little bit that would push him over. He was oblivious of everything except those hands touching and stroking him.

Suddenly Richard felt a stinging pain across his abdomen. He jerked convulsively and opened his eyes. He was just in time to see Margaret raise her arm for another blow. In her hand she held the leather strap with the knotted tails he had noticed earlier. He had forgotten about it after Margaret had begun her expert manipulation. She struck him again, this time directly on his erect penis. He jerked as the pain shot through him, but at the same time he felt a sharp stab of excitement. Margaret continued to lash him, the blows landing on his stomach, his belly and his cock, and as the torture progressed he became more aware of the excitement. His body was translating what should have been pain into the sharpest of sexual sensations. His cock tingled as if he were on the verge of orgasm. This was something he had never suspected about himself. Margaret had uncovered a streak of masochism in him, as she had done in Helena.

Abruptly the blows stopped, and Richard felt lost, excited beyond anything he had ever felt before, and then deprived of the stimulus which had driven him to this pitch. He tugged wildly at his bonds, grunting behind the gag. His back arched as he tried to present his cock to Margaret for more of the sharp pain that he suddenly needed.

She smiled at this demonstration of her power to arouse him so far and then deny him fulfilment, but she was breathing heavily too, and not only from her exertions. Her breasts rose and fell, outlined under her tight-fitting dress, and her face and neck were flushed. Margaret was staring at his erect cock, swollen and throbbing after being lashed. She tore her eyes away from the sight and looked into his eyes.

Richard saw there her own arousal. He knew that she had been excited by her domination and by the pain she had caused. Ingrid had said that Margaret was frightened of sex, but that wasn’t the whole story. This was what it took to arouse her. The power over others was the most powerful of aphrodisiacs to her, Richard now knew. He lay still, holding her gaze, challenging her to go further, to surrender to her own arousal, to use his body for her pleasure. The moment seemed to go on for ever.

Still holding his gaze, Margaret stood slowly and began to remove her dress. She seemed to be in a trance. Her hands moved slowly as she groped behind her back for the zipper to her dress. The sound of the zipper as it purred down her back was loud in the silent room. She stepped out of the dress and let it fall to the floor, then stood before him in her underwear, inviting him to stare at her.

Richard saw a beautiful woman standing beside him, her body outlined by the filmy clothing. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as she unclasped her lacy bra and allowed her full, rounded breasts to fall free, rising and falling to her rapid and shallow breathing. The nipples were hard and crinkly with excitement. When she stepped out of her pants, the crisp blonde curls of her pubic mound seemed to be charged with electricity. He heard the static hiss as the pants slid down her legs. Then she stood erect again, clad in nothing save her stockings and suspenders, once again inviting him to stare at her, flaunting herself before him, knowing that he was helpless and that it must be she who did anything, if anything was to be done. She stood so long that Richard began to believe that this was just another demonstration of her dominance, that she would walk away from him, leaving him aroused but helpless.

Margaret broke the tableau, moving to the bed. She knelt on the bed, straddling him, then sinking down until her weight rested on his thighs. Richard felt a thrill as the sheer nylon of her stockings brushed his legs, and the warmth of her flesh touched him. He felt her pubic hair against him like an electric shock. Margaret slowly sank forward, so that she was lying on top of him, her breasts crushed against his chest, the full length of her touching him. The scent of her was in his nostrils, the warm salty smell of her arousal strong in the air. He shifted and felt his cock brush her. He couldn’t stop the shudder that passed through it, and him, at the contact.

Margaret pressed herself against him, seeking as much contact as possible, shifting her hips so that her pubic hair touched his cock. She gasped at the touch, her eyes opening wide. A faraway look came across her face, as if she were momentarily in another world. Then her look changed, and she smiled down into Richard’s eyes.

She rolled off him and turned on the bed so that they lay head to foot. This time when she straddled him, her cunt was raised above his face. He could see the warm pink of her labia hidden between her legs, smell her musk. He groaned behind the gag, wanting to be able to caress that secret place with his lips and tongue, to taste her arousal in his mouth. Margaret raised herself until she could sit down over his mouth. She moved until her cunt was directly over the hard rubber inflation valve, then lowered her body until she could rub her cunt against it. At the same time she took his cock in her mouth.

Richard groaned helplessly as he felt himself surrounded by the heat of her mouth, the slickness of her tongue, the sudden sharpness of her teeth as she first caressed him and then nipped him warningly as he writhed on the bed. He lay still.

Margaret continued to rub her cunt against his gag, becoming more excited by the moment. Richard could see her labia and the pink flesh between her cunt lips. The smell of her was strong in his nostrils, exciting him even more. It was almost impossible to hold still, but he dared not move. He wished he could at least use his teeth and tongue to arouse Margaret to the point where she could not hold out any longer. He wondered what she would do in that case, whether she could resist her own urges. Or would want to.

Abruptly Margaret broke the impasse herself. With a loud moan she tore herself away and stood up beside the bed, looking down at Richard with agitation. Her eyes were narrowed and her cheeks flushed. Her breasts rose and fell with her breathing, the nipples erect and crinkly with excitement. She appeared to hesitate, as if deciding whether to throw herself over the brink. Richard looked up at her, wanting her, feeling still her mouth, her teeth and tongue on him, but he managed to keep his glance neutral, knowing that he had to let her make the decision, let her see him waiting helplessly for her to come to him. The sight of her arousal sent a powerful message to his cock, which stood erect and seemed to throb with a life of its own.

She decided with characteristic suddenness. She climbed once more on to the bed, this time facing him, straddling his legs as she reached for his cock. Still, at the last moment, she hesitated, as if afraid to carry out her decision, then she settled down against him, guiding him inside her.

Richard held still, although the sensation of being engulfed in the liquid fire of her cunt was well-nigh overwhelming. He clamped down, holding himself back from orgasm by sheer willpower. He knew Margaret would be displeased – to say the least – if, after agonising over her choice, he were to deprive her of the full enjoyment of it. And he knew that it would be an error to let her see that he knew she was surrendering, behaving like any other woman on heat. He didn’t want her to break off for his own reasons as well. He wanted her too, even if he could not reach out to touch her breasts, kiss them, pull her down and fuck her.

But Margaret was nothing if not aware of the situation. She lay atop him, her breasts crushed against his chest, rubbing them against him as she aroused herself further. She clamped down on his cock, and he gasped as he felt her strength. Margaret moaned again, closing her eyes as if to blot out what she was doing, to deny her enjoyment of sex as she had been doing all along. Then she began to move, raising her hips and arching her back as she rose and fell above him, riding him, fucking him as he wanted to fuck her but was prevented from doing by his bonds.

Margaret came abruptly, the cry of pleasure seeming to be torn from somewhere deep inside her. Richard, restraining himself from his own orgasm, was studying her face, concentrating on her reactions as a way to control his own. Her saw her face go slack as her orgasm swept through her, her head thrown back as she rode the wave of her pleasure. Then, curiously, a spasm of anger crossed her face, and she flushed with something like embarrassment, having been seen to lose control. To him it seemed that she was still fighting her body’s needs.

The moment, and the look, passed. Margaret appeared to make up her mind to go on, having gone this far already. Or maybe she simply didn’t want to appear indecisive or weak in his eyes. Or she might just be enjoying his body, enjoying his helplessness and her dominance. Richard thought fleetingly that it might please her if he too appeared to be lost in the experience of sex with his mistress. Not that he would have to pretend very hard. So the question became, how long should he hold out? He didn’t want to end this too soon. He was enjoying her too much. And he knew that he dared not show greater restraint than she could, now that she had come this far. She would be angry – embarrassed – and the consequences of that might be painful. But most of all, he didn’t want to offend her in her most vulnerable moment. He wanted her to enjoy the experience as much as possible. And, of course, he wanted to enjoy it too.

Margaret, meanwhile, seemed to be having no such complicated thoughts. She was having, instead, a long series of orgasms, moaning and thrashing above him, grinding her hips against him as if she would pound him into the mattress. Richard, seeing her excitement, lost control of his own body, so that he spurted inside her, emptying himself into her as Margaret cried out in her own release, her scream loud in the room. She shuddered as he did, then abruptly relaxed, lying slackly on top of him as if drained of all strength.

She lay for a long time, so long that Richard thought she might have been sleeping. He took that as a sign of her satisfaction and, indeed, of some sort of trust. She had let him see her at the moment when she lost control of herself, so Richard felt as if they had shared something much more intimate than the mere joining of their bodies. But he would never be able to mention it to her. She would not like to be reminded of her surrender. He knew he would have to keep this secret for her. He was strongly attracted to Margaret, had been since the first time she ordered him to be restrained at Helena’s apartment, and he didn’t want to do anything to cause her to lose face before others, as she would if he betrayed this moment. If his hands had not been tied behind his back, he would have put his arms around her and held her close.

But if his hands had not been tied, would she have surrendered herself to him? Probably not, he thought. Probably her pleasure had come partially from knowing that even when she was most vulnerable, he was unable to exert any control over her, or even touch her body with his hands. This was her way of maintaining control over him. And Richard knew that his reaction to her had been heightened by this very helplessness to influence events.

He knew that when she recovered, Margaret would resume her role as mistress, and he would be under her control as before. He would be made to put on the maid’s outfit, the tights and the corselet once more. And he would once more be her servant, subject to her whims, her whip and her unpredictable moods. She might even be more severe than she had been, attempting to re-establish her position of dominance. And he would be excited as before by being made to wear women’s clothing, the tight garments reminding him of his position and the whip letting him know who was in control. But they would both remember this moment as well, and things would never be exactly the same between them.

Margaret stirred and opened her eyes, looking straight into Richard’s face and seeing there a mirror of her own sexual release. She raised herself on her arms and looked down on him, as if to impress upon him the necessity of keeping silent. Richard nodded, unable to give any verbal reply, and she looked relieved. She stood up, still looking at him. Silently, she began to dress, once more covering the body he would have liked to touch. But the message was clear: she was in control, he was the servant again. Margaret finished dressing and gathered the rest of her belongings: the whip, the bicycle pump, the remainder of the rope. She turned without a word and walked into the hall, shutting the door behind her and leaving Richard bound and gagged on the bed they had shared.