House Rules (4 page)

Margaret grunted in satisfaction as she stepped away from him. Without further ado, she began to strip off her clothes, revealing her body progressively and provocatively to him as she wriggled out of her dress and her pale-green slip. Her legs were long and full, and yes, Richard saw, she wore stockings and suspenders. He approved, but could do little else.

Richard supposed Helena could take the necessary measurements over what Margaret now wore, but he nevertheless hoped she would take everything off. She did, slowly and with all the art of the striptease dancer. When Margaret was nude, she stood erect before Richard to allow him to see all of the body he could not touch.

Then, unexpectedly, Margaret turned to Helena and ordered her to strip as well. Helena went red and stuttered in her embarrassment. ‘Please … I don’t like to. Not here. You know why.’

‘I said, take your clothes off. Now. I will not say it again.’ Margaret stared hard at Helena, until the younger woman dropped her gaze and began to fumble at the fastenings of her dress. When it dropped to the floor at her feet, Richard was once again amazed at her beauty. Now that he was seeing her in full daylight he realised he had only half-seen her the night before. Margaret was beautiful too, but in a remote fashion. She dressed stylishly but severely, wearing her suit almost as a badge of defiance: don’t tread on me, don’t even approach me.

Helena, on the other hand, appeared the more vulnerable and hence the more appealing. Now that she had gone so far, she squared her small shoulders and faced Richard full on as she took off the rest of her clothes. Today, he saw, she too wore stockings and suspenders. And he saw why. Under her outer clothing, Helena wore a chastity belt. She had not been wearing it last night, nor when she had left the apartment that morning. Ergo, she must have put it on – or been compelled to do so – at Margaret’s home. The suspenders that held her stockings up were clipped to the metal of the belt that imprisoned her. When she was naked save for the belt and her stockings, she faced Richard with a look of there-now-you-know-it-all, that nevertheless included a silent appeal for his understanding.

He looked at her long and intensely before he nodded. The look of relief on Helena’s face was his reward.

Margaret must have seen the exchange and resented it, for she said, ‘How very touching young love can be. Now show him your back, my dear,’ she said contemptuously.

Even emboldened by Richard’s understanding, Helena was still embarrassed. But she turned her back slowly at Margaret’s orders. Richard saw that she had been beaten, again sometime between this morning and this afternoon. Once again it must have been at Margaret’s hands. Anger made him step forward, until the tether around his scrotum reminded him of the limitations to his power of intervention.

Margaret seemed both gratified and displeased by his reaction. ‘I had my chauffeur give Helena a short lesson in obedience this morning. Silence was enforced by a gag during the actual discipline, she being sadly unable to contain herself under the stimulation of the lash. And afterwards I ensured her chastity by the means you now see. I could leave the two of you alone now with perfect peace of mind. That would be amusing.’

Helena’s back, from her neck to her knees, was striped with a series of light pink stripes, none of which broke the skin. It must have taken considerable skill to whip her so thoroughly without drawing blood. Nevertheless, it must have been extremely painful. While he had been confined to her apartment, she had been suffering this.

Margaret spoke again. ‘We use a medieval whip on Helena when it is time to beat her. I was fortunate enough to secure an antique whip at auction. The provenance, I was assured, was impeccable. It had been used by one of the nuns in a Carmelite convent near Avila to flagellate herself according to the peculiar discipline the good sisters submitted to. In fact the whip itself was called The Discipline by the nuns. Twelve thin, waxed thongs – one for each Apostle, I understand – fixed to a short wooden handle. The Discipline was kept in a special black cloth bag when not in use, always in sight to remind the nuns of the weakness of the flesh and the necessity of daily penance. When you come to my house tonight, you will see it in the place of honour on my mantel shelf. We almost always fetch it down when Helena comes to visit: she is sadly in need of constant discipline, and must be reminded again and again of the consequences of disobedience.

‘Did she tell you last night that she actually enjoys her whippings? No? I thought not. Perhaps she would have told you in time. But the sad truth about our little Helena is that she is a practising masochist. At first we have to use force on her. But once she is stripped naked and tied to the whipping frame, she has to be gagged in order to prevent her screams of pleasure from rousing the neighbours. At my country retreat, noise is not such an attracter of unwanted attention, so there she can shout to the rooftops. And she does.’

Helena had meanwhile turned back to face Richard. Her face was red with embarrassment, but at the same time he could see that Margaret’s revelations were exciting as well. Helena’s breathing was harsh and irregular, and her nipples were erect. A deep flush suffused her neck and breasts. She was clearly excited by the narration of her ordeal.

Richard was excited too. He could feel his cock stiffen as he imagined Helena writhing in pleasure as she was beaten. He could even imagine himself wielding the lash, although he had never done anything like that in his life. But – think of the sense of power.

Margaret’s sudden laugh cut across his fantasies. ‘Look, Helena, he’s got a hard on.’ To Richard she said, ‘And do you want to beat our little Helena until she shrieks in ecstasy? I think you do. Well, I may let you do that one day.’ Turning again to Helena, she asked, ‘And would you like him to beat you, this handsome man you chose on the streets last night? And to fuck you senseless afterwards? Yes, I can see the idea intrigues you. You have chosen well. Richard will fit nicely into our little ménage. He can be the necessary third side to the triangle, keeping us both happy in our separate ways.’

Richard saw a flare of hope light Helena’s face at Margaret’s suggestion that he become a part of their ‘ménage’. The look disappeared as quickly as it came. Margaret didn’t see it.

‘But let us return to the business in hand,’ Margaret said. ‘Helena, get out your tape measure and notebook.’

Helena did as she was bid, taking Margaret’s details down in her notebook. ‘Do you want the legs cut high, bikini-fashion,’ she asked, illustrating the detail on her own body, ‘or long, like short trousers?’

‘High cut,’ Margaret replied. ‘But make the waist and leg bands tight. I would prefer a strong hook and eye fastener at the waist band, and a zipper below that, to the crotch.’ She drew an imaginary line from her navel to her pubic mound. ‘The dildoes must be removable, both for comfort and for sanitary reasons,’ she directed. ‘And be sure there are loops or tabs for suspenders.’

‘Colour?’ Helena asked.

‘Red,’ Margaret replied. ‘Everyone has boring black leather pants. I will be different.’

‘Will there be anything else?’ Helena asked.

‘Not in the clothing line,’ said Margaret, seating herself on the edge of the worktable.

As Helena approached, Margaret looked directly at Richard. ‘Watch this. I am sure you will enjoy the show.’ She scooted back on to the top of the table and placed her feet flat on the work surface. She bent her knees and spread her thighs so that her sex was fully displayed.

Helena obviously guessed what was coming next, and she tried to dissuade Margaret. ‘Please. Not that. Not in front of …’ She indicated Richard with a hopeless gesture. Her flush this time was from embarrassment rather than excitement.

Margaret didn’t reply. She simply lay waiting for Helena to take up a position between her legs. Helena looked hopelessly again at Richard as she moved between Margaret’s thighs. She bent down and began to use her tongue and teeth in an attempt to arouse the other woman.

Richard remembered a similar performance from the previous evening. If that was any indication, Margaret would soon be aroused to fever pitch. From where he stood, Richard could see her breasts, slightly flattened as she lay on her back, but still very firm. The nipples were slowly becoming erect. She turned her head so that she could look at Richard while Helena worked away between her thighs. She smiled at him and then closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the stimulation of her labia and clitoris. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the edges of the table, and there was a short, stifled moan from her as she came.

Richard thought that either it was a short orgasm, or that she was fighting to keep from showing her pleasure. He wondered why she might want to do that. Perhaps, like many dominant people, she equated pleasure with weakness, and didn’t want to appear weak. That was one argument against dominance, Richard reflected.

Nevertheless, he felt his cock throbbing as he watched Margaret’s arousal. A large part of the excitement came from the sight of Helena’s bottom moving enticingly between the older woman’s legs.

Margaret gave another short cry, instantly stifled. But it was clear that she had come again. Her eyes were open again, but she was no longer looking at Richard. Her eyes were unfocussed, as if all her attention was on inner matters. Her nipples were erect now, stippled with tiny bumps like gooseflesh. Her hips jerked once or twice, as if she was unable to control her body quite as well as she would have liked.

As the arousal went on, Margaret lost more and more of her self-control. Richard saw her reach for Helena’s head, her fingers twining in the short, dark hair and holding the younger woman against her fiercely. Her body arched in a sudden spasm, and the cry she gave this time left no doubt that she had finally been driven to the brink and over it. Her eyes were screwed shut and her breath rasped in her throat as she climaxed again and again. She was out of control, bucking and shuddering as Helena used her tongue and teeth on the older woman. She was holding Helena tightly against her, as if she would never let her go. Her cries were loud in the small room. Her legs closed, trapping Helena’s head.

The sight of Margaret’s arousal excited Richard immensely. His cock was stiff and slightly red, and he knew he would like to bury it inside Margaret if he could. He understood now why she had had him restrained. He had never played the spectator’s role in sex as he was now forced to.

After what seemed like a very long time, her body relaxed on the table and she let go of Helena’s hair. Her legs parted and she seemed somehow smaller and much less dominant. She let her arms drop to the table top. There was a smile on Margaret’s face as she lay back after her exertions. Her pubic hair was damp with her musk, and her labia were still erect, suffused with blood and very pink. Richard stared at her exposed sex with a certain degree of frustration.

The younger woman stood up and stretched her cramped muscles. She was very red in the face, whether from embarrassment or as the result of her exertions Richard couldn’t tell. Nor did he feel inclined to ask. He felt a reticence in Margaret’s presence, as apparently did Helena. He stood where he had been tethered and waited for the next development. Helena looked once at him but made no move to come closer.

Margaret took a long time to recover. Her breathing slowed, but there were still occasional spasms that shook her. Her face and neck were red, and Richard still caught the smell of her from time to time. That was exciting, but there was nothing he could do about it. That was why Margaret had insisted he be restrained before she made herself vulnerable in his presence. He imagined she enjoyed arousing him by forcing him to watch as she was brought to climax. His cock was still stiff, and he didn’t like the idea of Helena seeing the strength of his response to what he had witnessed. But there was nothing he could do about that either.

She seemed to understand his feelings, for when she next risked a glance in his direction she silently mouthed, ‘It’s all right.’ That made him feel a bit easier. It was more evidence of a welcome conspiracy between the two of them against Margaret.

But there was no time for more than that. Margaret sat up on the worktable and looked directly at him, as if gauging his reaction. His cock, standing at attention, was all she needed to see. With a smile, she stood up and crossed the room to him. Taking his cock in hand again, she stroked the underside with her fingers before scratching it sharply with her fingernail. His cock leapt in her hand with a life of its own.

‘Poor Richard. Would you like to put that inside me? Or would you prefer our little Helena?’

There was no satisfactory answer to that question, so he remained silent.

Margaret, however, did not insist on an answer, and her next act relieved him of the need to say anything that would anger either of the two women. She moved closer to him and slid his cock between her thighs, squeezing her legs tightly together. He could feel the warmth of her cunt against him, and the slickness of her fluids, still flowing after her climaxes. She began to rock her hips backward and forward, causing his cock to slide between her thighs. At the same time she arched her back and thrust her breasts almost into his face, as if mocking his inability to touch them, or her.

And he responded. He couldn’t help it. If he had been asked at that moment whether it was against his will, he couldn’t have answered. Luckily, there was no one there – not even himself – who was interested in asking that question. He knew he was going to come, or be made to come, as soon as Margaret took him between her thighs. It was merely a matter of time before the inevitable happened. It turned out to be a short time. Witnessing Margaret in rut had excited him more than he knew, so that when he came it was suddenly. Margaret had no time to move back, if that was what she had intended, before he spurted down the insides of her legs. But even after that had happened, Margaret made no move to withdraw. She gazed steadily at him with an amused half-smile. Richard tried to out-stare her, but in the end he had to look away.