by Sarah Fisher
Alex’s face was contorted, fighting the sensations that threatened to overwhelm her. Her body moved instinctively against the man’s broad tongue, unable - despite her fears - to resist the temptation to accept his caresses. Beneath her the driver’s slick cock glistened in the candlelight, waiting for Alex to submit, waiting for the moisture to smooth the way into her most secret place.
Peter Tourne held his breath. The driver lifted the girl higher, holding her open so that his mouth could lap greedily at her tight little arsehole. Peter Tourne could sense Alex’s horror and the driver’s growing desire. The man moved back to Alex’s clitoris; she moaned, afraid even now to relinquish her control. Her beautifully pert breasts were flushed, her nipples puckered and dark from the excitement and the cold.
Peter Tourne could sense Alex’s climax approaching as her body began to tremble. Just at the instant when it seemed she would tumble headlong into ecstasy, the driver pulled his mouth away from her and spat into his hand again, rubbing his saliva between her buttocks. The girl’s expression changed and froze as she anticipated what was to follow. The driver eased forward, his raging phallus all but invisible between the cheeks of her bottom.
Alex mouthed the word NO! but the man was relentless, and then Peter Tourne heard her throaty groan as the driver slid his cock into the darkest recesses of her body. She seemed afraid to move, her face pale and desperate, unsure of whether she hated this new sensation... or whether she adored it. The driver looked down at her, his eyes glittering with triumph. He crept closer, sliding deeper and deeper, then his thumb moved to Alex’s clitoris, and roughly, persuasively he began to circle it. Peter Tourne could see the pulse twitching in her throat, while her face was still frozen with confusion.
Fear flickered in her eyes as the driver began to move - gently at first, slowly, feeling his way into her. Suddenly she twisted instinctively against his circling thumb and then screamed out as she dropped down, unable to hold herself up any longer, completely impaling herself onto his cock. Her body twitched and turned with the first desperate flurries of the orgasm the driver had lit in her belly, while he began to work more insistently, set now on his own frantic release. His fat lips contorted into a maniacal grin as he reached his climax, fiercely driving his phallus as deep into her as he could.
Finally there was calm; an eerie brittle stillness that hung like smoke between the two figures on the floor. The driver slid out of Alex’s body without a second thought. She shuddered, her breath coming in ragged sobs.
The driver grinned at her, his fingers moving back and forth across her body, slipping inside her sex. He leant forward to drag her nipples deep into his mouth, sucking and biting. Alex lay motionless, staring up into the dark night. The man shrugged, pressing his lips against her sex for one last caress, and then slung the blanket over her. She didn’t respond, her eyes were focused on the middle distance as the driver leant over her to blow out the candles, his cock dragging, wet and flaccid across her exhausted body.
Chapter 3
‘Wake up.’
Alex blinked, hearing a female voice close by. She tried to turn over, feeling unbelievably uncomfortable. Her waking mind was flooded with images from the night before. She gasped and struggled to sit up. Her arms were so numb she could barely feel them. The tight leather straps still held her firm. She groaned and then licked her lips, aware of the stale taste of sleep in her mouth. Above her the face of the elderly housekeeper came into view. Alex blushed furiously. The older woman shook her head.
‘I tell you Mr Tourne is wicked man,’ she said flatly. ‘You should not come here.’
‘Have you come to let me out?’ Alex asked, wincing at the ache in her bladder.
The woman sighed theatrically. ‘Yes, I let you out, but first Mr Tourne he want you shaved. Turn onto your back.’
Alex began to protest, thinking about Gena’s slick and exposed sex.
The woman above her just shrugged. ‘If I don’t shave you, you stay tied on floor. Mr Tourne, he say so.’
‘I want to use the bathroom,’ snapped Alex, turning so that she could catch the woman’s eyes. The housekeeper shrugged as if she didn’t understand.
‘The toilet,’ Alex repeated desperately. ‘Please!’
Comprehension dawned at last, and the older woman smiled. ‘I shave you first, then you go to toilet.’ As she spoke she jerked the blanket back off Alex’s body. She looked over the girl’s slim well - proportioned frame with something akin to professional coolness.
‘You have nice body,’ she said as she fingered Alex’s tender breasts. Alex flinched at her touch, the single pain awaking a thousand others. ‘Mario, he come to you also?’
Alex pulled a face. ‘Mario?’
‘Mr Tourne, his driver, he like to bite, you have bruise here.’ She poked the sore area again and Alex winced.
‘Mario, he like boys best.’ She lifted a questioning eyebrow at Alex, who felt hot threads of humiliation course through her. The old woman’s words conjured up the driver’s leering, ugly face and his thick meaty phallus pressing home into her. Alex reddened; there had been no way to stop him. She could still feel the pain.
The old woman pouted. ‘But he don’t mind girls too, and you can’t stop him like this,’ she indicated Alex’s bonds. ‘Now, I shave you.’
Alex looked way, feeling her colour deepen under the woman’s scrutiny. What could she say? She was as powerless to resist the old woman as she’d been to stop Mario or Peter Tourne from doing exactly as they wished with her.
The woman made a clucking, motherly noise. ‘You stay very, very still. I don’t want cut you.’
Alex shivered at the possibility, listening now to the slosh of water. The woman returned.
‘Open your legs, little one,’ she said, prising Alex’s aching thighs apart. ‘Open them real wide.’
Alex closed her eyes as the housekeeper began to lather the coppery curls around her sex. Her hands were practised and confident. Alex shuddered as she felt the first cold rasping stroke of the razor and then froze, remembering what the housekeeper had said about staying still. She tensed, listening to each compelling stroke, resisting the desire to shudder at her exposure. She held her breath, willing herself not to move, trying not to even think, until the old woman finally struggled back to her feet.
‘There, you are done now,’ the housekeeper said with a smile. ‘You need to rinse soap off.’
Alex wriggled. ‘Let me get up now, please.’
The woman mumbled something and then reached above Alex’s head. Alex felt the leather thongs give and them lifted her hands slowly until she could see them. Every muscle in her back ached.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered as she struggled to sit up. Her head span.
The woman crouched over her with a look of concern on her face. ‘Slowly,’ she said, ‘don’t rush.’
Alex nodded and finally, if unsteadily, sat upright. The icy touch of the floor was like a balm against her glowing buttocks.
The woman glanced across the room. Alex followed her eyes - the interior was bare except for a series of rings in the floors and walls and ceiling and an expanse of cupboards. At one end of the long room were two doors set into the wall.
The old woman handed Alex a thin cotton robe. ‘There is bathroom there,’ she said, pointing towards one of the doors, and then glanced down at the remains of Alex’s dress on the flagstones. ‘I bring something clean to wear.’ She bundled up Alex’s clothes and then, carrying them and the bowl of water, hurried away.
Once she’d left, Alex grabbed the robe and dragged it around her shoulders. Her body protested, every muscle and sinew felt knotted and sore. She clambered unsteadily to her feet, and hobbled towards the bathroom door. As she walked the slick fragrant remains of her night spent with Peter Tourne and Mario trickled out onto her thighs. She shuddered and pushed
the door open.
In the bathroom the walls were lined with more built-in cupboards. She opened the first one - it contained perfume and toiletries, the next one a pile of thick luxurious towels. Alex turned on the taps, ran a deep bath and then gratefully slipped into the warm water. She sighed as the water eased away the pain. Stretching, she took in the startling, naked contours of her sex. The clean lines were shocking, and at the same time deeply erotic. She looked way, feeling the mixture of intense emotions bubbling up through her. Soaping herself, her fingertips sought out the aftermath of the damage from the previous night.
On her breast were the deep navy teeth marks of one of Mario’s bites, other lesser bruises pinched and ached as she touched them. Finally she let the soap slide down between her legs. The naked mound of her pubis felt strange under her fingers. She opened her legs wider, wincing as she felt the bruising inside, and behind it the sensation of raw violation that she didn’t feel ready to contemplate.
A picture of Mario’s eager, lascivious face filled her mind. She shook her head and tried to drive his image away when she succeeded his features were replaced by the cool and aristocratic face of Peter Tourne. She swallowed hard and slid further down into the warm water, willing it to heal her body and soak away the desperate aches and stiffness.
Finally dried and feeling somewhat restored, Alex glanced into the mirror above the basin. Her blue eyes were bright, despite her lack of sleep. Her lips and breasts were bruised from Mario’s attentions - but what surprised her most was that other than the obvious bruising she looked no different; she was unchanged by the events of the night before. Thoughtfully she ran a finger over the livid purple mark inside her bottom lip, wincing as she found the tender spot where Mario had bitten her. Her mouth still felt dirty. She shuddered as she remembered the driver’s filthy kisses and the odour of tobacco and beer. She opened another cabinet and found a toothbrush and paste. Gratefully she spat into the sink and attempted to scrub away the last physical remains of the peasant’s invasion of her body. She pulled the robe tight. Glancing back at the mirror she smiled; at least her body now felt clean - although her mind was a very different matter.
Outside the bathroom, on the floor, lay one of her favourite floral dresses that the housekeeper had obviously collected from the guest cottage. Alex picked it up and pulled a face - the woman had forgotten to bring her any underwear, and had already taken away the things she had been wearing the night before. She sighed and pulled the dress over her head, ignoring the complaints from her body as she moved.
By the rings in the floor where she had spent the previous night were her sandals, discarded at some point, but not forgotten. Alex slipped them on and then made her way out into the bright sunlight.
It took her a few seconds to work out exactly where she was - she had no desire to go back into the house - instead she went back to the steep path around the outside of the villa and climbed up until she found a way into the garden that would lead to the guest cabin.
Inside, on the table in the sitting room, someone had set out a breakfast tray with orange juice, coffee and hot light rolls. Alex ate ravenously, cramming the delicious bread into her mouth as if she hadn’t eaten for a week.
She had barely had a chance to collect her thoughts and finish her breakfast before Gena appeared at the open door. Her sudden appearance made Alex jump. Gena’s expression was dark and unreadable, but there was a split moment when their eyes locked, each female understanding fully what the other had recently experienced.
Gena was the first to break the silence. ‘Peter wants to see you in sitting room.’
Alex hesitated. ‘I’m not really dressed,’ she began, glancing down at her thin dress. Through the lightweight fabric she could make out the shadowy outline of her nipples, and the curve of her breasts.
Gena’s eyes flashed. ‘He said you are to come.’
Alex nodded, remembering Peter Tourne’s reaction to her disobedience. ‘All right,’ she said quickly, standing the cup down.
Gena turned so that the sunlight shone through her elegantly tailored dress. Picked out by the sun her silhouetted figure was stunning. Alex swallowed hard, knowing from the events of the night before that Gena too, was naked beneath her dress.
She followed the blonde down into the main house, struck once again by the peaceful qualities and the elegance of the hallway and the rippling sounds of the fountain. Ahead of her Gena mounted the staircase that led up to the sitting room.
The blonde opened the door and let Alex go in first. Peter Tourne was sitting across the room in an armchair, looking out into the garden below. Starn was standing behind him. His eyes roamed slowly over Alex and then to Gena as the two women stepped into the room.
‘You wanted to see me?’ Alex said softly.
Peter Tourne said nothing - he didn’t even move. It was Starn who stepped closer, his eyes resting on the curve of Alex’s body where it touched the thin fabric of her summer dress. Under Starn’s unsettling gaze Alex was astounded to feel her nipples hardening, pressing forward to reveal themselves through the material.
‘Did you have her shaved?’ asked Starn over his shoulder to Tourne. His eyes gleamed as he noticed the outline of her nipples.
Peter Tourne was still looking into the garden outside. ‘Show him,’ he said flatly.
Alex felt herself flush scarlet, and she hesitated.
His voice lowered to a menacing purr. ‘Don’t make me ask you again, Alex. You know how I reward disobedience.’
Knowing she had no other choice but to obey, Alex gathered up the hem of her skirt, lifting it slowly to reveal the soft vulnerable curves of her naked sex. Starn licked his lips greedily. He stepped forward as if he intended to touch her. Alex flinched and instinctively stepped back towards the door.
Peter Tourne turned to look at her, his eyes resting first on her sex, and then her face. He smiled. ‘Very good.’ He glanced across at Gena. ‘Take off your dress, Gena, then come here and stand by me.’
Without any hesitation Gena began to undo the buttons of her shirt-dress, revealing the heavy swell of her breasts. Alex stood motionless, her fingers knotted in the thin material of her frock, while Gena let her dress fall into a silky puddle around her feet.
Peter Tourne glanced back at Alex. ‘I want you to kiss Gena,’ he said softly. Alex shivered but didn’t move. His penetrating eyes never left her face. ‘Am I not making myself clear?’ His tone hardened. ‘Let me explain. I want you to kneel in front of her, part her thighs, and then kiss her, caress her. Use that tongue and those pretty lips of yours to bring her to the very brink of ecstasy.’
Alex gasped; she had thought he meant a real kiss on the lips - and that prospect had abhorred her - but what he actually meant completely astounded her. She dropped the hem of her skirt.
‘No,’ she stammered, ‘I won’t, I can’t!’
Peter Tourne lifted his hands in resignation. ‘Why do you insist on fighting me, Alex? What I ask is so easy. All you have to do is give yourself to me. Let me guide you show you, teach you. Ah well.’ he looked at Gena and then at Starn. ‘Lift your skirt up again, Alex.’
She did so very slowly, with great reluctance.
‘Now Gena will show you how it’s done.’ He fixed her eyes with steely determination. ‘And you will let her. Do you understand me?’
Alex couldn’t bring herself to answer him.
‘Do you understand me?’ he snapped again.
This time she nodded and Starn stepped behind her. One of his hands slipped round her wrists, holding her fingers tight in the skirt. He jerked them higher until her whole belly was exposed. His other hand snaked around her shoulders until one of her breasts rested in his palm. He squeezed firmly, his thumb and fingers seeking out her nipple, which to Alex’s horror, hardened again under his touch.
Gena walked slowly across t
he room. It was impossible for Alex to ignore her pale and delicate eroticism. Peter Tourne nodded towards a stool and the gorgeous blonde pulled it up in front of Alex, before arranging herself onto it on all fours.
She glanced up at Alex, her eyes glittering as she ran her tongue around her red painted lips. Alex let out a desperate whine and then closed her eyes as she felt Gena’s warm breath on her belly. An instant later she gasped as Gena planted the lightest of kisses on the junction where her heavy outer lips met. Behind her she heard Starn sigh and felt him tighten his grip on her. He slid his knee between her thighs and forced her legs wider apart.
In contrast to Starn’s touch, Gena’s tongue was soft and enquiring, her mouth planting delicate kisses on the lips of her quim. Her tongue eased Alex’s sex open, probing and seeking out the hard ridge of her clitoris. Alex gasped softly as the blonde found her goal and then started to nibble and suck at the little throbbing bud. Behind her Starn changed position, his fingers now dropping from the hem of her skirt to the naked contours of her sex. She tried to push him away but he was strong and persistent. His fingers slid down to hold her body open for Gena’s probing tongue.
The blonde girl’s attentions were frightening in their intensity. Within seconds Alex could feel the spiral of her excitement growing. Gena’s fingers joined her tongue, stroking and caressing and teasing. Alex gasped, feeling as if she was losing the control of every part of her body. She found herself leaning back against Starn, and could make out the pressing of his penis through her dress. She moaned as Gena plunged her fingers up into her willing body, exploring her sensitive and moist interior. Her fingers stroked along the inner lips, dipping in and out of the wet slit between. Alex let out a long wild sob as Gena returned her attentions to her clitoris and dragged a perfectly painted fingernail across the throbbing hood that protected the little bud.
The sheer intensity of the sensations threatened to drown her. Alex writhed helplessly, opening her legs wider, her body’s desire suppressing her mind’s revulsion. She thrust herself onto Gena’s waiting tongue, straining to catch every last electric caress.
