One Week in the Private House (20 page)

The computer was not the only improbable element in the antiquated study. The narrow brass bed was not in itself unusual, but the leather straps and metal buckles that hung from its sides gave it a disconcerting appearance, as did the upholstered A-frame that lay propped against it, waiting to be fixed in position. Still more remarkable were the contents of the glass-fronted cabinets behind the bed. In one there was a display of whips, crops, canes and tawses, while the other contained a sparklingly clean array of vibrators, dildos, handcuffs, complexly linked lengths of chain, shiny metal spheres of various sizes, and other objects the function of which Jem could not guess without a closer view.

Headman doesn't look much like a vintage businessman, either, Jem thought. He was wearing only black leather boots over black leggings that extended to his thighs and were tied around his waist; his groin and buttocks were not covered. The hair on his body - a thick covering across his powerful chest that narrowed to a line down his flat stomach and then expanded again into a bush from which his half-erect member sprouted - was dark, but attractively speckled with grey. When Headman was deep in thought Jem would reach out and run her fingers across his torso, smoothing the curls, and Headman would look up at her with his familiar ironic smile. Jem would try to read the expression in the glacier-blue eyes that looked at her from beneath his hooded lids, and would find love and pity mingling with the distaste she felt for the cold and calculating tyrant. What a waste, she would say to herself, sighing as she caressed his neck and his fingers thrust into her, what a pity he's not as wonderful as he looks.

And if Headman looks out of place, Jem thought, I look like a freak. And I smell like an oriental bazaar. Once again she surveyed her body, coated with a film of glistening oil the spicy scent of which almost overpowered her senses. Her hair was coiled on her head and held in place with bejewelled pins; apart from her shoes, with heels so thin and high that she hardly dared move for fear of falling over, her only garment was a red corset that had been laced so tightly she felt she would snap in two. The corset flared out from her hips with a flounce of ruched red silk, emphasising the swelling of her backside and the nakedness of her belly; and it was shaped to fit exactly below her breasts, tilting them slightly upwards. Clips, more insistent than the most ardent lover's fingers, gripped her nipples and were connected by slender chains to a diamond-studded necklace; if she stood straight, with her head held erect, her nipples were pulled upwards in an exaggeration of their normal pert readiness. This isn't comfortable, she thought, even if it is kind of sexy. What's Headman going to want this evening?

Headman flicked a switch and his computer screen faded. 'All work and no play,' he said, swivelling his chair to face Jem, 'makes your Master a very dull fellow. It's time to play, Jem.'

'You have a half-decent chess programme on that machine, Master?'

'No, I haven't. That's not a bad idea. But at this moment, Jem, I'm interested only in mating with my queen.'

'Oh Master! And I thought I was just a pawn in your game!'

Headman smiled his thin-lipped smile. 'I like a courtesan with an accurate idea of her status. Get on the desk, Jem. On your hands and knees. Facing towards me. Quickly!'

By the time Jem had manoeuvred herself into position, Headman had wheeled the front of his chair under the desk and had started to turn two handles at the sides of the seat. Jem watched his face rise in front of her as the seat of his chair moved upwards, like a piano stool, until his thighs were pressed against the underside of the desk's surface. His erect member protruded stiffly between his stomach and the edge of the desk.

'Is this going to be fun for me?' Jem asked.

'Of course not,' Headman said. 'Not yet. Later, perhaps, if you please me. It is the Master's privilege to take pleasure, and the duty of others to provide it. Now lean forward, push your arse up, that's right, and use your mouth. And do it very gently, Jem: I don't want to rush things.'

Jem was in a far from comfortable position, but she had to admit that Headman's prick was not an unpleasant lollipop. It was a long, tapering, elegantly shaped organ; the helmet was the shape and size of a plum, with only a narrow flange at its base, so that it was exactly the right size for Jem to hold in' her mouth and roll her tongue around. She could take the whole shaft into her mouth, and although the tip then reached right to the back of her throat, she found she could still breathe quite easily. For several minutes she toyed with the hot hard flesh, discovering its shape and texture; then she started to draw back occasionally, to rest her mouth and to kiss and lick the wide-cracked tip. Glancing up, she saw Headman becoming more and more relaxed, his breathing deep, his eyes closed, and his fingers tugging gently at the taut chains that ran to her pinched nipples.

Jem returned to her task, sliding her lips down the length of Headman's rigid pole.

The Devil finds work for idle hands, I see.' Headman's voice was stern. Jem stopped her movements, i saw you,' he continued. 'Your hands were being very busy between your legs. I said you were not to take your enjoyment yet, did I not? If you want something to occupy your hands, I'm sure I can find them some suitable employment. Stand up; go and select a dildo from the cabinet.'

Jem stifled a sigh of relief: her subterfuge had not been discovered, and now Headman was unwittingly assisting her. Pretending flustered contrition, she carefully descended from the desk and teetered towards the display of sex toys.

The cabinet contained row upon row of artificial penises of every size, shape, material and colour. There were double dildos with their twin shafts set at various angles to and distances from each other; and single cylinders of metal, latex, and polished wood, some smooth and others realistically sculpted, and some ribbed or covered in rubber nodules. Jem selected a smooth, pointed model made of soft fleshy rubber, and, taking tiny steps, returned to present it to the Master.

That's rather small, isn't it, Jem?' he said, it's scarcely bigger than the real thing.'

Jem gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. 'But Master, I've only got a little bottom!'

Headman nodded appreciatively. 'Small, but perfectly formed,' he said. 'How very thoughtful of you to choose buggery. Now: back on the desk, as you were before.
Insert
it as slowly as you can.'

Thank you, Master,' Jem said, genuinely grateful. But before clambering on to the desk she pushed forward her russet-curled mound, and with a flourish, she lubricated the slender tube within the moist channel of her vagina. Her gaze locked with Headman's as she withdrew it again, glistening with her internal juices.

Headman's eyes devoured her as she resumed her position on the desk. Her lips closed around the hard knob of Headman's shaft as she reached behind herself to guide the tip of the dildo to the puckered entrance of her uplifted arse. She started to lap gently at the soft underside of the helmet, her tongue moving in time with her hand as it pushed the slick leathery nub against her tight ring of muscle.

This is getting almost enjoyable, Jem thought as the ring relaxed and then closed around the head of the cylinder; if only this desk weren't so hard and this corset weren't so tight. For Headman's benefit she allowed herself to utter little grunts of pleasure with each fraction of a centimetre that she insinuated the dildo into her anus.

By the time it was fully inserted, Jem had almost begun to believe her own propaganda. Her loins throbbed with a delicious feeling of fullness, and her stretched sphincter sent little jolts of excitement shooting towards her clitoris with every miniscule movement of the dildo. The problem was that Headman seemed no nearer to reaching a climax.

'Very good, Jem,' he drawled. 'Now move it in and out. Faster than that, much faster. Give your arsehole a really fierce fucking, Jem.'

Jem pulled away, released Headman's prick from her tired jaws, and stretched upward, shaking her head. She had forgotten the nipple clamps: the chains rattled and pulled her breasts to and fro, sending stabs of near-pain through them. Headman appeared to find the display entertaining, and Jem forced herself to smile at him.

Til fuck my own bottom with the greatest of pleasure, Master,' she said, eyes glittering, 'but wouldn't you prefer to see it?'

'Perhaps. What do you have in mind?'

'You've had a busy day, Master, why not relax on the couch?' She took his hand in hers, led him to the couch, and laid him on it. 'Come along, let's try it. Now if I start above your head, like this, and crawl over you, along the bed ... Well, what do you know? I've found that ever-ready stiffie of yours, just waiting to be popped back into my mouth. And my little stuffed arse is hanging right over your head, so you can see exactly what I'm doing with it.'

'A courtesan with imagination! This is indeed an excellent arrangement. It requires only one extra element to make it perfect ...' Without moving from his prone position, Headman fumbled beneath the bed and produced a thin, smooth length of cane which he swished through the air experimentally.

As Headman was considerably taller than Jem her hips were above his shoulders rather than his head, and he had an excellent view of her curved arse and the distended ring at its centre even after she had leant forward to apply her tongue to his trembling organ. 'Suck me very gently, Jem,' he admonished her. 'We have a long night ahead of us. I want you to use a slow mouth and an energetic hand. This isn't the ideal position from which to wield a cane, but I'm sure I'll be able to use it to encourage you if your self-sodomising begins to show signs of waning enthusiasm.'

Oh my, Jem thought, this is another fine mess I've gotten myself into. I just have to get out of this, and burn up a little of Headman's fuel, too, if I can.

She pushed her left arm under Headman's silk-clad thighs, as if to push his penis further into her mouth, and set up a regular rhythm with her tongue and her lips and the insides of her cheeks, very gradually increasing the pressure while making only half-hearted efforts with her right hand to move the dildo in and out of her anus.

'What's the matter, Jem?' Headman's voice taunted her. 'Is your arm getting tired?' Jem felt the cane tap against her buttocks. She released her hold on the dildo, and
Headman
made use of the opportunity to deliver
a
second, stinging blow; but Jem's hand searched for his, found it, and pulled it to the flanged base of the cylinder lodged between her
cheeks.

'Why, thank you, Jem,' Headman said, his voice noticeably less steady. 'How considerate. I'd love to fuck your bottom. But I'll be less gentle than you.'

Headman was as good as his word. Swift in and out thrusts of the dildo alternated with strokes from the cane. When he started to favour upward strokes that flicked into Jem's open sex-slot and knocked against the base of the deeply-embedded dildo, she almost lost her concentration on the action of mouth on prick. But Headman's participation and her relentless sucking were beginning to have their effect, and Headman's hips were moving convulsively as his excitement mounted.

Jem judged that the time was right. She lifted Headman's thighs; moved her right hand to rest against his hairy, upcurving bottom; with her left hand grasped his testicles, and squeezed; pushed the index finger of her right hand into his arse-crack, and on into his warm rubbery anus; and pulled the head of his throbbing prick to the back of her throat, sucking mightily as she did so.

With a brief cry, Headman started to come. The cane flailed wildly as boiling salt fluid flooded Jem's throat.

Jem swallowed, sucked saliva into her mouth, swallowed again, and waited.

'Jem!' Headman's voice was weak.

'Yes, Master?'

'You know that was not what I had intended, Jem.'

'Yes, Master. But it was fun, wasn't it? And I wanted to move on to something else. I guess I just like variety.'

Headman sighed theatrically. 'If I thought there was the slightest point, Jem, I would send you to the dungeons from now until dawn. You'd find more than enough variety there, I warrant you. But there's no point. You're incorrigible. But yes, it was fun. So tell me: what would you like to do next?'

It was almost midnight when Jem, stiff, sore, and naked except for a long cloak of blue velvet, made her way down the wide curving staircase to her own chamber. Her escort was one of the Master's slaves; a timid blonde whom Jem might have described as wraith-like had it not been for the huge beige-capped globes that swelled out from the girl's narrow chest. She had clearly been some weeks in Headman's personal service: her tremulous manner suggested it, but a clearer sign were the gold chains that decorated her body, hanging from pierced ears to pierced nipples, from nipples to wrists and pierced labia, and from wrists to ankles. Jem was too exhausted to appreciate the aesthetic effect, and waved the girl away when they reached the door of Jem's room.

The quarter-circular chamber was in darkness, but Jem made out the slim figure sitting on the bed.

'Jem? Is that you?'

'Julia! Welcome to the Round Tower, sister. Lead me to a hot tub, pronto.'

'But why am I here, Jem? I thought the Master -'

'Because I asked for you, silly. No more questions until I'm lying in hot water, please. Come on into the bathroom.'

Julia remained silent until Jem was up to her neck in a bathful of bubbles. Jem found herself almost falling asleep in the steamy heat, and she forced herself to stay awake.