‘That would be a lovely place to picnic,’ Oona observed.
Ruth followed her gaze to where a natural pool had been incorporated into the park’s landscaping, a screen of trees creating a quiet haven of privacy.
‘An excellent idea,’ Lewis agreed. ‘It’s a pity to waste this fine weather.’
Completing their checks, they returned to the car, where Lewis extracted the hamper and carried it to the little copse they had spied from the balcony, where they set out their impromptu picnic.
Ruth sank down onto the grass, lifting her skirt to expose her legs to the sun.
Lewis’s eyes sparkled. ‘What would be truly idyllic,’ he remarked, ‘would be Dejeuner sur l’Herbe.’
Oona looked to Ruth for enlightenment.
‘The painting by Manet of two couples picnicking in a forest glade, the men formally dressed, the women wrapped in diaphanous veils, except that one woman has lost hers and is quite naked.’
Oona’s face lit up. ‘I’m game if you are.’
‘She won’t need persuading,’ Lewis assured her.
‘Lewis, you’ll have people thinking I’m a girl of easy virtue,’ Ruth protested.
‘Not at all, you’re very virtuous, in a strictly unconventional manner.’
She was already busy with buttons and clips. In moments, she was completely naked. ‘You know, I think I spend more time naked than dressed these days.’
‘I wish I could,’ Oona declared wistfully as she too stripped off her clothes, leaving on only her high-heeled sandals.
Ruth shifted her position, wanting to have a more equally balanced view of her companions. As she rose to her knees, she heard Oona squeal with surprise.
‘What happened to your bottom, Ruth?’
‘She got a little above herself,’ Lewis replied. ‘Sometimes she has to be brought to her senses.’
‘You enjoyed it just as much as I did, sir.’
‘You spanked her?’ Oona shivered expressively.
‘He’s a real beast,’ Ruth teased.
‘Careful,’ Lewis warned. ‘This particular beast lurks very close to the surface. Too many quips like that might unleash him.’
‘You see?’ Ruth appealed to Oona. ‘What can I do with a man who lacks basic self-control?’
Lewis made as if to rise. As he did so Ruth jumped away, putting a tree between her and her fiancé, ducking this way and that, provoking him with laughing eyes. ‘Help me, Oona! Save me from this primitive beast!’
Lewis lunged.
Ruth ducked sideways, feinted, and hopped the opposite way as he grasped at empty air. She skipped behind another tree, replaying the scene. Then a pair of naked arms closed around her, capturing her firmly. She struggled, but the other girl held her tightly.
‘Here Lewis,’ Oona called. ‘I’ve caught the little tease for you. Give her what she deserves.’
‘Traitor!’ Ruth cried, struggling to free herself. ‘How could you betray the female cause?’
‘Because I want to see you spanked!’ Oona gasped with suppressed laughter. ‘So don’t spoil my fun.’
‘If it turns you on that much, you get spanked instead,’ Ruth challenged.
‘You don’t mean that, do you?’
‘Of course she doesn’t mean it. Protesting is all part of the game, isn’t it slave?’ Lewis seized hold of Ruth’s arms.
At his touch Ruth fell quiet and let him pull her over to an old tree stump that provided a natural seat for him. He lowered himself onto it and pulled her down across his lap. She began a half-hearted struggle. ‘Be still,’ he commanded, and spanked her hard.
Oona saw Ruth’s firm cheeks wobble, and a patch in the shape of a hand colour the residual pinkness to an angry scarlet. She gave a little cry of emotion. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’
Lewis smacked Ruth again. The sound echoed oddly off the trees, followed instantly by her cry of pain. ‘Don’t be sorry,’ Lewis said. ‘She really does enjoy it. She’ll keep shouting, but in a few moments she’ll feel no real hurt. Watch...’ He smacked her six times in quick succession.
Oona watched Ruth’s firm flesh quiver and bounce beneath the assault. She saw the other girl’s skin lighten momentarily before a furious redness infused it, and the lovely rounded bottom seemed to glow. Ruth was kicking and twisting, pushing her bottom up, inviting more smacks while showing the lovely, juicy bulge of her labia. The cleft between her buttocks widened, revealing her dark anal rose as Lewis’s hand rose and fell steadily, until the whole of her bottom and her upper thighs was an even shade of painful red. She was still reacting to each smack, but her struggles were minimal and her cries muted to a low mewling that was part sob, part purr.
Lewis delivered two final blows, one to the crown of each buttock, and then released his hold on her. She lay limply across his lap for a full minute, crooning softly to herself, flexing her cheeks as she wallowed in the afterglow of a delicious torment. Then she stood up slowly, regaining her feet with disciplined determination and ruefully clasping her burning buttocks in her hands. Her face was flushed, but in her eyes triumph burned.
Oona had been unable to resist the temptation to touch herself as she watched another girl getting spanked, and her fingers were still probing the warm moisture of her cleft.
‘You dirty beast, you’re turned on,’ Ruth accused her.
‘I confess,’ Oona gasped. ‘Please, one of you spank me.’
Ruth flaunted her flaming bottom. ‘You want your bottom to look like this? What will Andrew say when he sees it?’
‘Can’t you do it gently, so it doesn’t show afterwards?’
‘Not if you really want to feel it. Even a light spanking will leave a lingering blush for a while.’
‘Oh dear, if only I could be spanked where it won’t show...’
Lewis and Ruth exchanged a glance, momentarily at a loss, then Oona’s face lit up suddenly. ‘I know, you could spank my pussy. That won’t show. If it does, I can just pretend I’m really turned on. Anyway, Andrew never looks at my cunt, so he’ll not notice.’
‘It will hurt a lot more,’ Ruth warned.
‘I don’t care,’ Oona declared passionately. ‘I want it to hurt. I want to be hurt more than you were.’
‘I think you’d better do it,’ Lewis suggested pragmatically. ‘Your hands are smaller than mine, better suited to tight spaces.’
‘She can spread her legs quite wide enough for you,’ Ruth countered.
‘No, you do it, Ruth,’ Oona said. ‘I shall enjoy being spanked by a girl, but Lewis must hold me down.’
‘Okay, but pinch her nipples at the same time,’ Ruth insisted.
Oona lay on her back across Lewis’s knees, her feet placed squarely on the ground and her knees spread wide apart. She let her head fall back, exposing the lovely creamy smoothness of her throat. She was totally vulnerable, and Ruth felt her stomach tighten at the sight of Oona’s breasts flattened against her ribs making her nipples protrude. She positioned herself carefully, running her hands sensuously over Oona’s thick labia, feeling how the cushion of fat protected the sensitive interior. Oona moaned, clenching her abdomen. Again Ruth stroked her, and elicited another moan from the girl. A tiny pink ridge was visible between the dark outer flesh, and after another caress the delicate frills of her inner lips came into view. Ruth continued giving her long, encouraging strokes, until the whole of Oona’s sex was spread open before her eyes with the inner lips framing the dark eye that was the entrance to her inner self. After a few more caresses Oona’s clitoris was pouting proudly as Lewis worked on her stiff nipples with his fingertips. Ruth flicked the proud clit with her fingernail and Oona moaned, closing her eyes, but then she opened them again to gaze at Ruth’s hand poised above her body.
Ruth smacked the other girl’s exposed pussy with her open palm. Oona’s reflexes brought her thighs
together, but not quickly enough. Ruth’s hand landed firmly on her soft, moist target. Oona was hot. She squealed beneath the impact and clamped Ruth’s hand with her legs, grinding herself against the heel of her palm.
‘Hold her thigh, Lewis,’ Ruth ordered. ‘And you, my lady, keep those legs spread or I shall have to tie you up to make sure you do.’ She raised her hand and saw Oona tense up. She paused, letting anticipation work its magic. Oona began to make soft little sobbing sounds, begging to be hurt and spared all in the same breath. Ruth understood. She smiled at her victim, and struck again. Her hand landed squarely on the exposed vulva with a sharp smacking sound. Oona cried out shrilly, her body jerking on Lewis’s lap as she tried in vain to clamp her legs together. Ruth nodded at her fiancé, who released his grip on the girl’s thigh, and Oona promptly squeezed them closed and rubbed them together to provoke her orgasm.
After a moment Ruth forcibly parted the gorgeous thighs, and while Lewis held them open, she delivered four more firm smacks in quick succession to the succulent quim at her disposal.
‘Oh, my God, I want to come!’ Oona gasped. ‘Please make me come!’ Her labia was fully engorged, the dark void of her vagina pulsating at its centre. And at the crest of her rosy vulva, her clitoris jutted out hard and pink. Ruth teased it, flicking its tip and circling its base with one of her fingernails. Oona squirmed, voicing her passion as Lewis pinched and rolled her nipple between his fingertips. Ruth could see and feel the tension in her victim and she once more teased the ripe clitoris before smacking her pussy mercilessly, inflicting severe distress on the tender flesh.
Oona’s back arched, thrusting her belly upward as a climax rent her. And before her legs closed, Ruth eased her thumb into the dark opening of the girl’s tormented sex, letting her grind against her wrist while her vagina sucked and dragged at her relentless digit.
‘Lewis, are you erect?’ Ruth asked breathlessly.
‘Naturally.’ He laughed at the absurdity of the question.
‘Then do it for her,’ she urged.
Oona offered no resistance as Ruth extracted her thumb and helped her sit up. Still deep in the throes of ecstasy, Oona instinctively opened her legs to straddle Lewis, and Ruth eased her down over his rigid penis. A new wave of convulsions swept through her writhing form as his cock slid into her hungry body, and he went to work at once, thrusting upward, lifting her as he fucked her mightily. Oona flung her arms around his neck and rode him with shameless fervour, her cries soaring into the trees as peak after peak of pleasure possessed her.
Chapter 12
Conrad’s house stood below the shoulder of the moor, a Georgian gentleman farmer’s house built for comfort and located at a discrete distance from the more functional buildings. There were several cars parked on the gravel drive. Ruth recognised Elsa’s, and the pick-up truck surely belonged to Jack Thorpe.
She climbed out of the Mercedes feeling supremely confident in her green tulle-and-silk outfit with a brilliant in her navel and her erect nipples thrusting at the delicate fabric. Her natural modesty was dying; it was becoming second nature to her to proudly display her body. As she stepped towards the house, she recalled reading somewhere that Georgian women of high birth often wore dresses cut low enough to expose their nipples, and she wondered whether this decadent London fashion had ever spread this far north. During Queen Victoria’s outwardly prim but secretly debauched reign, had this house possibly been dedicated to wild carnal pleasures?
Lewis pulled the antique bell, and it jangled distantly within. Ruth felt a flutter of apprehension, and then the door swung open.
‘Good evening, Mr Lewis Stone and Ms Ruth Parrish, I presume?’
Ruth caught her breath in admiration. The girl was beautiful, petite and perfectly formed. She had a gentle face and large, gorgeous grey eyes. She was also totally naked.
‘I’m Aisha.’ The exquisite creature smiled as she identified herself. ‘Welcome to Highmoor House. The master and his guests are gathered in the library. Please follow me.’ Her speech was musical, English perfectly enunciated in a delightful accent with distinct Latin overtones that did not match her obvious Asian ancestry. She walked ahead of them, leading the way with an easy swing of her narrow hips that was relaxed and earthy, evocative of sunlit islands. Ruth licked her lips, aroused by the girl’s overt sexuality and beguiled by her flawless skin, which was the colour of creamy coffee. Her beauty was crowned by exquisite chocolate-drop nipples and enhanced by rich, dark shadows around her crotch.
‘Isn’t she gorgeous?’ she whispered to Lewis.
‘You’re incredible,’ Lewis whispered back. ‘Every other woman I’ve known would have turned green with envy and put my eyes out so I couldn’t enjoy the sight of her. I guess I’ve still got some major adjustments to make.’
‘Perhaps I feel more secure than most women.’ She squeezed his hand as Aisha swung open a door and stepped inside to introduce them.
Ruth’s eyes swept the room. She saw Jack, Elsa and Morgan. Also present were Nick and Judy and a slightly older couple she thought she remembered from Judy’s party. And finally, sitting by herself, was the domineering Karly.
‘Welcome.’ Conrad’s voice preceded him across the large room as he came forward to receive them. He subjected Ruth to a penetrating inspection, fleetingly eyeing the engagement ring on her finger, and then smiled. ‘I think everyone knows Ruth, so let me introduce her fiancé, Lewis Stone.’ He went around the room making the introductions, which identified the unknown couple as Wendy and Tom.
Aisha reappeared silently carrying a tray of drinks. Lewis took a glass of sherry for himself and Ruth chose some white wine.
‘Do you require anything else, master?’ Aisha asked in her lovely musical voice.
‘Dinner as I ordered in thirty minutes,’ Conrad replied without looking at her. ‘Nothing more until then.’
‘Very good, master.’ She bobbed a little curtsey and left the room, her breasts swaying gently and her luscious buttocks flexing as she walked.
‘What a beautiful creature,’ Lewis declared, expressing everyone’s admiration.
‘She is quite special, isn’t she?’ Conrad was clearly flattered by the compliment. ‘A remarkable jewel.’ Then, as if deliberately changing the subject, he asked Lewis about the Quincy sale, and the two men were soon immersed in conversation.
Denied Lewis’s attention for the time being, Ruth cast an eye around the room again. She was surprised to find it was a real library. Hundreds of books were stacked ceiling high, and she felt sure they had not been bought for their visual effect. She noted a large and comprehensive art section, a few other shelves devoted to history, and a massive collection of erotica. This was a room she could drown in. Then Elsa asked her about Oona, and she described the girl and the fun they had shared. Naturally, Elsa spotted the ring on her finger, and congratulated her effusively.
Lewis detached himself from Conrad, and headed their way.
Elsa grinned at him. ‘I demand the return of my runaway slave!’
‘For me to agree to your demands, I would first need some reassurance that she will be appropriately treated.’ He played along with her sportingly.
‘Sir, you know the penalty for absconding as well as I do. It calls for a severe penalty.’
‘What are you proposing?’
‘I suggest she be sentenced to marriage. She must become your obedient wife and slave for life.’
Lewis sighed. ‘Have you no pity?’
‘None, sir, and there will be a charge, too.’
‘A charge, on me?’
‘Naturally, sir,’ Elsa raised an eyebrow, ‘since you incited her to this act of betrayal.’
‘Name your price, woman, though I warn you, I shall dispute it.’
‘The price is the return of this slave for one whole day three times each year to be my plaything.’
‘The price is too high,’ Lewis said firmly, still playing along but also in deadly earnest. ‘I will offer her to you five times each year.’
‘You drive a hard bargain, sir.’ Elsa smiled. ‘Very well, on one condition, that she wears the ankle bracelet permanently.’
‘I was planning to anyway,’ Ruth commented.
‘Silence, slave,’ Elsa commanded. ‘She has become very insolent, don’t you think? It seems to me she deserves a sound spanking.’
‘I agree, both to your terms and with your judgement,’ Lewis decreed. ‘You may spank her yourself before we leave.’
A gong sounded, filling the house with its vibrant tones.
‘Dinner is served,’ Conrad announced, rising to lead his guests to the dining room.
An impressive table ran along the centre of the room flanked by two enormous antique sideboards set against the panelled walls. Shields and weapons alternated with grand formal portraits, adding to the classical ambience. Ruth cast a professional eye over the paintings, speculating as to whether they were genuine ancestors or merely purchased decoration.
Aisha received the party, directing each guest to his or her place. She was still naked, but so at ease with her body that she blended in quite naturally with the dinner suits and formal evening gowns. Ruth was not surprised when the girl took the last place at the foot of the table opposite Conrad. When the ladies were seated, their host indicated the men should sit, too, and settled himself in his chair last of all. ‘We are ready, Aisha,’ he said.
The girl rang a little hand bell, a section of panelling swung open, and two young women entered the dining room carrying soup tureens. The first girl was blonde, her platinum hair falling straight down to her shoulders. She was naked except for a wicked looking chastity belt clamped tightly around her vulva, and two bulbous weights suspended from rings in her pierced nipples. The second girl was tall and almost painfully slender, her angular body framed in a black leather harness that concealed nothing. Small, firm breasts with bright red nipples jutted prettily from between the straps and her pelvis was broad, accentuating her hips and her lovely plump pudenda, framed and enhanced by narrow leather straps passing on either side of it. A tiny bell hung from her labia that tinkled as she walked, and seemed to be connected to something inserted in her vagina. It was the only sound she could produce, for a grotesque ball gag, the strap of which held her dark hair tightly against her head, filled her mouth.
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