The British Bondage Collection

by Bailey, J. A.

  Hot cum flooded her mouth just as suddenly and Harriet coughed as she gulped it down. Forcing his erection forwards, Jonathan pressed his seed down her throat with a growl. She licked and sucked greedily, determined to at least get this right.

  Finally withdrawing, he wiped his cock against her lips before settling down next to her. He propped his head up on his hand, and eyed her twitching pussy. The dildo still pulsed inside of her, the sensation hovering between pure agony and pure ecstasy.

  Taking pity on her, Jonathan slowly peeled apart the straps and eased it from her. A sound of disappointment escaped her mouth but she knew she couldn’t possibly take another orgasm so soon. He stroked at her cheek affectionately.

  “Ah, my little whore, you came before your master.”

  Harriet chewed at her lips and nodded slowly, dropping her eyes.

  “I shall have to punish you, you know?” he told her as he released her hands and feet.

  She nodded again, aware that her sex was already swelling at the thought.

  “I’m glad we met again.”

  “Me too. If only we’d met sooner. I might never have married Will.”

  Jonathan chuckled. “I doubt you would have paid much attention to me. Besides, these past years have given me some time to learn a few things. I look forward to trying them all out on you, Harriet.”

  “Oh…”

  His hands came around her breast, plucking at her nipples. Harriet groaned as he brought his head down and raked his teeth over her hard tips.

  “Your husband is a bloody fool,” he murmured against her skin.

  “Ex,” she corrected with a smile.

  “Thank fuck.” Jonathan laughed. “His loss is most definitely my gain.”

  His hand wriggled under her bottom and flipped her over with a squeal. Flattening his lips to the back of her neck, Harriet gasped as her skin tingled and he traced the line of her spine to her bottom. His fingers pinched into her arse cheeks as he placed a sound kiss on each one.

  Urging her hips back, he traced lazy circles over her bottom as it stuck in the air. Harriet wriggled against his fingers. Oh, just put them in me!

  “Put your hands between your legs,” he commanded.

  Harriet complied immediately. “Like this?” she asked as she laid her cheek against the luxurious satin bedding. Both hands now sat between her bent knees and it pushed her bottom up further as her head was forced down onto the bed.

  “Perfect. Don’t move.”

  Harriet waited as he climbed off the bed, her breaths quickening. She was so exposed, so open. He could do anything he wanted to her. A trickle of arousal seeped down her thigh. This was it. This was what she’d always wanted.

  The heat of Jonathan’s body was back again and his cock brushed teasingly across her leg, painting her skin with pre-cum. She instinctively edged towards it. Smack! Jonathan brought the flat of his palm down on her arse with unflinching power. She yelped at the ferocity of it.

  “Don’t. Move,” he told her firmly.

  “Sorry, Master,” she mumbled.

  He proceeded to secure a strap around her thigh. Harriet desperately wanted to move her head so she could see what he was doing but somehow she kept her cheek pressed against the bed. He tied the other end of the strap around her wrist, securing her it to the top of her thigh. Jonathan did the same with her other hand and she was completely at his mercy.

  “Turn your head.”

  Harriet obliged and she sucked in a breath as she took in her image in the huge gilded mirror. Her bottom thrust in the air, her hands shackled between her legs. It had to be the most erotic sight she had ever seen.

  Her gaze landed on Jonathan and his already rock-hard erection. She licked at her dry lips as she traced the muscles of his torso all the way down to high tight arse. Fuck, how did she get so lucky? She would never forget today.

  Catching her eyes, he flashed a grin at her as he smoothed his hands across her arse. With lightening movement, he brought his hand down on her bottom. She yelped and watched as a handprint bloomed across her pale skin.

  Jonathan turned his gaze to her arse and Harriet could do nothing other than watch with wonder as he spanked her, each blow so powerful that it brought tears to her eyes as her skin burned. She cried out as another blow landed exactly where the previous one had been and her skin glowed red. Her pussy twitched and convulsed and she quivered with excitement and fear.

  “Thank your master,” he growled.

  “Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely as another smack cracked across her arse. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you,” she cried out as several slaps rained down one after the other.

  He paused, squeezing at her tender skin. “I’m going to fuck you, Harriet. Hard and fast and you are going to take every inch of my cock in that tight cunt of yours. But you mustn’t come until I say so, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Harriet held her breath as the tip of his shaft nudged her soaking lips. He was big, but she knew she could take him easily. Her pussy was soaking and ready. But she didn’t know how long she’d be able to hold off her climax. His brutal spanking had brought her so close to the edge already.

  Pinching her hips, he lunged forwards suddenly, impaling her savagely. The sound of skin against skin rang in her ears as he withdrew and thrust into her, her body rocking with each movement. Harriet watched wide-eyed in the mirror, seeing his cock plunging into her, his taut arse squeezing with every brutal stab.

  Her pussy tightened around him as she took him deep and she clenched her eyes shut. The sight of him fucking her open cunt was almost too much to bear.

  “Open your eyes,” Jonathan snapped, punctuating his words with a powerful push of his hips.

  She snapped her eyes open and whimpered as her pussy squeezed again. Slapping her arse, he drove his rod into her until she hung on the precipice, her sheath spasming around him. Sweat shone on her skin as she grit her teeth, trying to hold onto her climax.

  With one last smack to her bottom, she felt his cock twitch and he thrust a finger in her tight arse, right up to the knuckle.

  “Come now,” he demanded gruffly as his dick convulsed inside of her.

  Harriet screamed as the invasion of her ring combined with the splash of cum against her walls blew her climax open. She tensed and shuddered as the pleasure swirled from her cleft and through her body. Jonathan rocked slowly against her, draining his cock of cum as he wriggled the finger in her tight hole. The world slowly came into focus as Jonathan withdrew. Harriet trembled as the last of her orgasm lingered and he eyed her with a grin.

  Grinning hazily back, she wriggled her hands between her legs. “Are you going to release me? I think my hands have gone numb.”

  He tilted his head and studied her. “No, I don’t think so. I think I’ll leave you like that for the afternoon. Maybe with a vibrator crammed in your pussy.”

  “Jonathan!” she objected with a smile. She couldn’t deny the fresh flood of arousal that his words brought forwards.

  “Tell you what, I’ll release you, but only if you agree to one thing…”

  “What’s that?”

  “You consider taking on a permanent position here at Hartslow Hall.”

  Harriet frowned. “What sort of position?”

  Jonathan ran a casual finger over her arse and in between her soaking folds, smirking as she bucked. “How does ‘slave to the master’ sound?”

  She chewed at her lip. He was gorgeous, commanding, the most amazing fuck ever, but dare she trust another man again? She’d only wanted a quick fling.

  “Well?” He slapped her arse cheek, the sound reverberating around the room.

  “Oh,” she cried out. Who was she kidding? No one could ever match up to Jonathan now. She grinned mischievously. “I don’t know, I might need some convincing.”

  His brows lifted and his eyes narrowed as he brought a hand down on her again. “Well, Harriet, I can be very, very persuasive.”
/>   Harriet giggled to herself as another harsh smack landed on her bottom. She wouldn’t tell him quite yet that she was ready to give herself fully to him. Just a little more persuading, she thought with a secretive smile.

  *********

  Haunted by the Highlander

  The mist curled off the loch, wrapping Inverrock Castle in a ghostly blanket. Samantha peered out of the backseat window of the car and grimaced. With its four grey towers, pointed turrets and dark stone walls, it looked every bit the haunted castle. She glanced around at her three friends and wondered why she’d agreed to this. They gaped up in awe at the keep as it sat on the edge of the loch.

  Honestly, who wanted to spend a weekend being scared? She folded her arms across her chest and slumped back against the seat as Annie expertly navigated the winding road towards the keep. Masking a yawn with the back of her hand, she sighed. A nice relaxing weekend away was what she needed. Some pampering in a spa perhaps. Then maybe she’d finally be able to sleep through the night.

  Lucy grinned at her. “Isn’t it amazing, Sam? Looks sooo spooky.”

  “Yes,” Samantha agreed. “So spooky.”

  “It will be fun, Sam,” Annie said over her shoulder. “You need to lighten up and this is the perfect opportunity.”

  “Oh yes,” Samantha said drily, “nothing quite as fun as being scared to death.”

  Fran turned around in her seat and eyed Samantha seriously. “Don’t be daft, there’s no real ghosts. It will just be actors and stuff. You’re not really scared, are you?”

  Samantha squirmed in her seat. “Not really. I could just think of better things to do than spend my weekend hunting for ghosts in the middle of Scotland.”

  “What like moping around your flat and thinking of David?”

  Narrowing her eyes at Fran, she pursed her lips. “I do not mope. And I don’t care about David. I was the one that kicked him out, remember?”

  Fran snorted and Samantha braced herself for it. As much as she loved her, you could always count on Fran to be blunt.

  “Only after he fucked up for the billionth time. You should have given him the boot long ago, Sam.”

  “I know, I know. It’s not David I miss anyway, it’s—”

  “The sex!” Lucy piped up.

  “It is not the sex! That was never any good to begin with.” Samantha blew out a breath. Why exactly had she stayed with David for so long? It was hard to remember now. “It’s going to bed in someone’s arms each night, all safe and warm.”

  “Well, maybe we’ll find you a sexy Scotsman to keep you warm,” Annie said as they pulled into the empty carpark in front of the castle.

  She sniffed to herself. It was unlikely she’d find anyone to match her tastes. David had been appalled when she’d suggested trying new things. She’d tried to entice him into giving her just a little spanking but he was having none of it. Surely if you loved your partner, you’d be willing to give something a try? Guess David had never loved her. Good job he was gone really. But it didn’t help her desires. At one point, Samantha had even debated joining the local BDSM club but she’d shrugged that idea off quickly. It was not a spanking from a stranger that she wanted but one from a man she trusted and respected.

  Samantha peered up at the gloomy windows. Even though it was only mid-afternoon, the sky was as grey as the stone castle and it felt more like dusk. A shudder trickled over her spine as she unclipped her belt and stepped out of the car.

  Meeting Annie’s gaze with a raised brow as they all stopped and stared up at the great stone monster, Samantha shook her head. “I doubt there’s any gorgeous Scotsmen in there. Not anymore anyway.”

  Lucy giggled and looped her arm through Samantha’s as Annie pulled the suitcases out of the boot. “Maybe you’ll be lucky and be haunted by a hunky Highlander.”

  “Thanks, Luce, that’s really going to help me sleep tonight.” Not only did she suffer with insomnia, but her horrible older brother had also pulled several pranks on her as a child, all of which had been designed to make her as scared as possible of the dark.

  Unhooking her arm from Lucy’s, she grabbed her suitcase and set it on its wheels. Her chest became heavy as the four of them approached the large double doors of Inverrock Castle. Yeah, just what I need, she thought with a smirk, another reason not to sleep.

  The doors groaned - of course - open and a small, plump woman with short grey hair greeted them. “Welcome, welcome,” she said as she ushered them into the hall.

  Samantha gazed around, aware her jaw had dropped. The inside of the castle was rustically beautiful. The walls were still bare stone and iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling. A dark carved staircase curled around to the next floor. Animal horns and swords and heraldic crests hung from the walls.

  “Wow,” Lucy breathed.

  The old woman smiled. “Welcome to Inverrock Castle. I’m Aileen and I’ll be looking after you during your stay.”

  Annie stepped forwards, taking charge as usual. “Hi, I’m Annie, we spoke on the phone. Thanks for having us, it’s just beautiful.”

  Aileen nodded and grabbed some keys off the reception desk. “We’re keen to see what you think of our haunted tours. If all goes well, then we’ll be doing them regularly.”

  Samantha lips twisted. “Well, the setting is right for it.”

  Aileen nodded with a grin. “Yes, and it does help that we do have our own ghosts here at Inverrock.”

  The smile dropped from her lips and Samantha clutched tightly to her suitcase. “Oh.”

  “Not to worry,” Aileen reassured her as her eyes twinkled. “They’re very friendly.”

  Why did that not make her feel any better? Bloody Annie. She should never have agreed to come along. Annie worked for the company that were helping Inverrock with their publicity and had jumped at the chance to try out their ghost hunt experience. How the hell Samantha got roped into it too, she couldn’t exactly remember. She was pretty sure someone mentioned a four-poster bed. With her insomnia, it was probably the only enticement she needed. It was only when they had piled into the car, did she remember the part about hunting for ghosts.

  “Well, here’s your room keys.” Aileen distributed them between them. “Just go up the stairs and turn left. You’re not all together I’m afraid, but you are all in the east wing. Dinner is at seven and then the tour will start at ten.”

  Thanking Aileen, they all dragged their suitcases up the wide stairs and set out to find their rooms. The east wing was divided by a long corridor, lined with family portraits. The squeaking of their suitcase wheels echoed against the wood panelled walls. Samantha found her room and stopped in front of it. Room thirteen. She rolled her eyes. Naturally.

  Slotting the iron key into the heavy oak door, she froze as a strange sound reached her ears. Her pulse thudding erratically as she listened intently. She jolted. There it was again, an odd moaning sound.

  “Found it!” Lucy called out from the other end of the corridor as she fumbled with her keys. “Sam, what’s wrong?”

  Straightening, she shook her head. “Nothing,” she said brightly. “Nothing,” she muttered again. Bloody idiot, your imagination is on overdrive. Damn that Aileen and her ghost stories. They may be hunting for ghosts tonight but she sure as hell didn’t want to find any.

  Pushing open the door, Samantha released a breath. A four-poster bed. Yes! Hopefully she’d sleep well in a bed like this. Wheeling her suitcase to one side, she threw herself down on the bed, and the heavy satin throw and decorative pillow enveloped her. She stroked over the luxurious fabric and sighed. Once, many years ago, on a trip to Italy, she’d had a night of mind-blowing sex in a four-poster bed. Marcello had introduced her to the delights of a firm hand and some carefully tied restraints. They had messaged back and forth for a while when she returned to England but life took over and Marcello soon became a distant memory.

  Her room, unlike the rest of the castle, had a cosy feeling to it, its thick velvet curtains and dark wood adding
warmth to the grey stone. The bed canopy was the same red material as the curtains and Samantha fought the urge to untie them and hide away from the world. Why was it that daytime was the only time she could sleep on her own?

  Maybe Annie was right, maybe she did need to find another man, preferably one like Marcello. It was not like she’d made any attempts to meet anyone since her split from David six months ago. Bloody hell, had it really been that long? No wonder she couldn’t sleep. She sat up abruptly. She needed to get laid.

  Next weekend, she decided. Next weekend, she’d persuade the girls to go out on the town and she’d find herself a nice man for the night. Laughing at herself, she climbed off the bed and unzipped her suitcase, flinging her clothes over the dark chair that occupied one corner of the room. Yeah, right. Samantha had never done one-night stands and she doubted she was going to start now she was nearing her thirties. What’s more, she’d never find the dominant man she was after.

  Pausing to stare out of the window, she conceded the Inverrock loch was beautiful - at least in an eerie way. Surrounded by mountains and rocks, she imagined on a sunny day it would be breath-taking.

  A flash of something caught her eye and she pressed her nose against the cold glass. Tartan. She was sure she had just seen the flick of a kilt rounding the corner of the castle. But Aileen had said they were the only guests. Maybe it was one of the actors or something.

  Another yawn overtook her and Samantha slumped back down on the bed. They were going to be up late hunting ghosts so she might as well close her eyes for a bit. Images of hunky kilted men swam before her eyes as she sunk into slumber.

  ***

  Jolting upright, Samantha clutched at her chest as her heart raced.

  “Sam,” Lucy called through the door as she bashed at it. “Are you coming?”

  Glancing around, she realised the room was shrouded in darkness. Pushing down that stupid feeling of someone being behind her as she fumbled for the light switch, she slipped on her trainers and lifted the latch on the door.