by Monica Belle
‘But you get on?’
‘Yes, fine, but ... it’s all a bit weird.’
‘How do you mean?’
He paused, not looking at all happy, then shrugged.
‘I suppose I’m going to have to tell you this sooner or later. Vanessa ...’
Again he paused, obviously struggling to find the right words, only to shake his head.
‘No, I’ll tell you later.’
‘Julian!’
‘It’s best, it really is.’
‘No, really, you can’t do this to me, and anyway, if you’re going to tell me you might as well get it over with. You’re not having an affair with Vanessa, are you?’
He laughed, clear and open, then spoke again.
‘No, but I was. It’s over, because I’m with you now.’
Relief flooded through me, but it didn’t completely get rid of the awful feeling of jealousy which had been my first reaction. He’d reached out to take my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, but for all that I was trying to tell myself that what he’d done before didn’t matter, inside I knew it did. This was not just some random ex-girlfriend, it was Vanessa Aylsham. If I’d felt resentful and inferior before, now both emotions were ten times stronger and Julian was still talking.
‘The trouble is, I don’t suppose Vanessa is going to see things that way. In fact, I know she’s not.’
‘But she’s married, the greedy bitch! And why shouldn’t I be with you?’
‘Oh she doesn’t mind you being with me, she just doesn’t see why that should make any difference to what’s been going on.’
I was left dumbstruck, completely unable to find words for my outrage at a woman who casually assumed that their affair would carry on and quite plainly didn’t care what I felt, but it wasn’t my very natural outrage that had sent the blood rushing to my face. That was because I’d come once over a fantasy about the nymphomaniac bitch and had been struggling not to do it again. Julian saw and gave my hand another squeeze.
‘Hey, don’t worry. I’ll tell her, but let me do it in my own time, because if we both get sacked ...’
He gave another shrug, more eloquent than words. I merely nodded, my feelings too confused for me to find an easy answer. For a third time he squeezed my hand.
‘I love you.’
I responded the same way, close to tears, and would have gone to him, but at that moment I caught the dull thump of the front door being pushed to. It could only be Vanessa, and she came in a moment later, as immaculate as ever in a tailored skirt suit and shiny black heels, brisk and efficient as she clapped her hands.
‘Time for work, you two. Julian, you’re driving me into Norwich today. Chloe, you can deal with the punters.’
‘But ...’
‘Uh, uh, no buts, no excuses. Just do it.’
I nodded dumbly, wishing I could find the courage to give her the answer she deserved, but Julian was less easily put down.
‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Chloe hasn’t had a chance to learn the routine yet, while I’m sure she’d be more use to you shopping.’
There was a snag, quite apart from my sudden jolt of emotion at the thought of being Vanessa’s dogsbody for the day.
‘I don’t drive.’
Vanessa drew a sigh, as if to suggest that while I was pretty much useless it was no more than she’d expected, then spoke again.
‘Then it seems my suggestion is the most sensible one after all, and really, all Chloe needs to do is read your notes. She has all day.’
Julian turned to me.
‘Do you mind?’
‘Um ... no, I can manage, I suppose.’
‘OK then. The notes are in the blue folder above my desk, and don’t worry about reading from them if you need to, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.’
I’d accepted, and that was that. Only when they’d gone did it even occur to me that we’d had a perfect right to tell Vanessa to postpone her shopping trip, which could hardly be important. Yet it was true that we had to be careful, and the trip would give Julian an excellent opportunity to tell her that their affair was finished. I could only hope that she’d accept his decision, and not try to seduce him on the way home, or threaten him with dismissal, or just laugh in his face and order him to go down on her as a punishment for daring to try and call the shots. Not that Julian would let himself be pushed around so easily, but I had a horrible suspicion that I would, which brought back all my embarrassing feelings with a vengeance.
Fortunately there was work to do, and I threw myself into it, first reading through Julian’s notes and then practising my technique in front of the house and in the hall. I knew most of the facts, and the hard part was trying to imitate the cool, slightly mysterious air that came so naturally to Julian. He had it and I didn’t, but I could at least dress the part, and the baggy jeans, old top and trainers I’d put on when I thought I’d be working around the estate definitely didn’t work. Among my things was the black dress I’d bought for a posh but disastrous date in my second year, as well as a pair of flat black shoes. With my hair loose and perhaps a little more make-up than usual I could manage a vaguely Gothic look, which a visitor with a really flexible imagination might just take for dark and mysterious.
I was completely off guard as I began to strip off, thinking only of how I’d look and whether a black silk rose from the vase in Julian’s room would be a nice touch or over the top. It was a hot day, and a second shower seemed a good idea, but as I pushed down my knickers I was struck by a sudden, forceful image of being told to take them off so that they could go in my mouth while I was fucked. At that thought a jolt of shame and pleasure hit me, so strong it was only by running for the shower that I managed to resist, and having to skip naked across the passage made it that much worse. I turned the shower on cold, only to immediately regret my decision both because it was not so much cold as freezing and because that I immediately imagined being made to do it as a punishment, by Vanessa, and before my bottom was smacked in front of Julian.
The image was so strong it left my knees weak and my body trembling as I hurriedly finished in the shower, all the while trying to tell myself that I didn’t really want that at all. It was no good though, because while I knew I’d fight like a hell cat if she actually tried to do anything of the sort, and that Julian wouldn’t put up with it anyway, it wasn’t reality that mattered. After all, no doubt nothing so perverse had ever entered her head. Iwas the one who couldn’t help my dirty fantasies, not Vanessa.
Dressed, and once more at least superficially in control, I decided that my best refuge lay in company. On the pretext of finding out how many people were coming that afternoon, I went over to the gatehouse and spoke to Graham. His dull, matter-of-fact style helped to ground me, but I still didn’t trust myself. Once I’d stayed as long as I reasonably could I walked into the village, all the while wondering why I had to be at once so highly sexed and so prone to unsuitable fantasies. I was right in the middle of my month, which went some way to answering the first part of the question, as did the way I felt for Julian, with our relationship still in the first hot flush of excitement and mutual attraction. The second part was less easy to answer.
I had lunch in the village pub, just chicken skewers in satay sauce with a glass of white wine, because I couldn’t help but feel a bit self conscious about how my figure would look in comparison with Vanessa. My waist was at least as slender as hers, maybe better, but she was impossibly svelte, making me conscious of the size of my breasts and bottom by comparison. She was a lot taller than me too, although that at least was something I could do nothing about, especially as she seemed to think of three-inch heels as ordinary day wear.
When I’d finished it was still over an hour until I was due to meet the visitors, so I took Julian’s notes and a second glass of white wine out into the beer garden. The thought of the tour was beginning to get to me on top of everything else, and I drank a third glass in the hope of steadying my nerves. I
t worked quite well, and I was feeling really quite confident as I walked over towards the church.
Julian always emerged from the churchyard, ideally stepping out from under the lych gate before anybody noticed him. I tried the same and it worked perfectly, after which the tour was a breeze. Nobody knew I was a stand-in, so they simply assumed I knew what I was talking about, while they were impressed by the atmosphere of Black Dog Lane and infinitely more so by the sense of woe in the Hall itself. By then I had them eating out of my hand and could have got away with anything that wasn’t obviously an outright lie. I even joined some of them walking around the grounds afterwards, and headed them off from the path to the folly with a careful judged show of unease, just for practice.
By the time the last of them had left I was feeling well pleased with myself, as well as tired, while the wine had caught up with me and there was no sign of Julian and Vanessa. My eyes would hardly stay open, so I wasn’t even worried about my dirty thoughts, and went upstairs intending to sleep for a little before starting dinner. I was gone almost before my head hit the pillow, lying on top of my bed, still in my black dress, with just my shoes kicked off. It seemed like just seconds later when I awoke, but the light had changed, now golden and mellow, but hot where it struck in directly through my window. I lay still, half asleep, enjoying the warmth of the air and the slight buzz of alcohol in my head. It had been a good day, in the end, and I found myself smiling for the state I’d managed to work myself into and the way my mind had managed to bring everything together into one filthy fantasy.
A powerful shiver ran through me at the memory of what I’d been imagining having done to me. I stopped just in time, my legs already coming up and one hand moving by instinct towards my chest. It was not going to happen, I was determined, and yet in my vulnerable state the fantasy was almost irresistible, not despite it being so dirty and humiliating, but becauseit was so dirty and humiliating.
Unfortunately it wasn’t just almost irresistible, it was completely irresistible. I couldn’t stop the thoughts coming up, and with them the need to come rose up, stronger even than before. Half asleep, drunk and secure in the knowledge that I wasn’t going to be disturbed, my efforts to fight my own instincts failed completely. A single, despairing sob and I’d let my knees come up and lifted my bottom off the bed so that I could wriggle my dress up over my hips. Still I was trying to tell myself that I’d keep it clean, even as I peeled my knickers down over my legs.
It was a lie. They went straight into my mouth, leaving me burning with shame for my own behaviour but quite unable to stop myself as the different elements of my fantasy fell into place. First there would be Vanessa, angry with me for putting a stop to her affair with Julian. She’d come up to my room, and after a brief struggle I’d have my knickers removed and jammed into my mouth to shut me up while I had my bottom smacked over her knee. With that thought came another powerful shiver, not far from orgasm, and I’d given in completely.
I rolled face down, lifting my bare bottom as I imagined how it would feel to lie across Vanessa’s lap with my knickers off; helpless, humiliated, wriggling about in a pathetic attempt to escape that would only make her laugh. She’d hold me in place, allowing the situation I was in to sink in fully before my spanking began, especially the way I’d look from behind, with the full bare moon of my bottom on show, including the wrinkly pink dimple between my cheeks and my sex peeping out from between my thighs.
My hand went back, to stroke at my bottom, imagining her touching me up before she spanked me, both to turn her on and to humiliate me. Maybe she’d even finger me, or open my cheeks to tickle my bumhole, and before I could stop myself I’d done it, teasing the little sensitive ring until it began to relax. My finger went in, just a little way, and I was sobbing with shame and ecstasy through my mouthful of soggy panties.
Even that wasn’t enough. My spare hand went back, to clutch at my sex as I teased my bottom hole. I was soaking, and I knew I had been for most of the day, ready for cock, but ready because I’d been imagining not Julian, but what Vanessa might do to me. Now it was too late to stop myself, but I made one last effort, thinking of myself not over her knee, but his, held helpless in his strong arms as he gave me a playful spanking after I’d admitted how the thought of Amanda getting it made me feel.
I’d found my clitoris, circling the little bud to bring my pleasure up as I thought of how good it would feel, but it wasn’t right. It was Vanessa I wanted to spank me, to lift up my dress and take down my knickers, to gag me and smack my bare bottom in front of Julian, with me kicking my legs and wriggling in my hopeless, pathetic struggles. I wanted it hard, so hard it left me sobbing on the floor with my bum as red as my blushing, tear-stained cheeks, and when I was done I wanted to be made to kneel at her feet, to kiss her anus in grovelling, abject apology for daring to steal her lover, and at last, to lick her to ecstasy while I masturbated in a shameless display of my true feelings.
It was just as well I had my knickers in my mouth, or the scream I let out would have had anybody within five miles thinking that another incident had been added to Candle Street Hall’s long list of tragedies and scandals. I nearly passed out, it was so strong, and for all the great surge of guilt that swept over me seconds later there was no getting rid of the cynical little voice in the back of my mind, telling me I’d just given myself one of the best orgasms of my life and in record-breaking time.
Chapter Six
I WOULD HAVE LIKED to tell Julian, but I was too embarrassed. He’d spent the day being dragged around Norwich from shop to shop with an ever-increasing load of parcels, something that tends to really piss men off at the best of times, never mind when the girl involved isn’t even their lover. And she wasn’t, not any more, or so he assured me when they finally got back. Apparently she’d just laughed, but hadn’t tried anything with him. I had to be sure, and teased him into letting me suck his cock, then felt bad afterwards because he was as eager as ever despite being footsore and hungry.
The next day was the Sunday, always the busiest day at the Hall, with two coach parties to show around. One was in the late morning, something Julian tried to avoid, but it actually worked rather well, presumably because while there weren’t very many heavy lorries the tourist traffic heading for the Broads made up for them. We also had the grounds full of people for most of the day. Several visited the folly, and one even asked Julian if anything happened there, allowing him to make a wonderfully unconvincing denial. That put him in an excellent mood as we relaxed over a cold bottle of wine and a salad thrown together with odds and ends from the fridge.
‘You see, it’s got to work. We just need something a little more obvious, and some luck. Can you take the tour tomorrow? I want to see if I can get hold of some goat skulls.’
‘Goat skulls?’
‘Well, maybe sheep skulls, as long as they’ve got horns. I want five, one for each corner of the pentagram, with a candle on top of each. Afterwards we make a less than perfect effort to clean up and put the skulls up in the eaves of the folly roof so that anyone who has a good look is sure to find them.’
I couldn’t help but giggle, both for the image he was conjuring up in my mind and for his sheer enthusiasm. He grinned, but a possible problem had occurred to me.
‘What if they call the police?’
‘It’s not illegal to hold satanic rituals, and anyway I’d just tell them the truth, that it’s all a publicity stunt.’
‘But that would ruin it.’
‘No it wouldn’t, because any conspiracy theorist worth his salt would automatically assume I was lying. That’s the beauty of the whole thing, because once they’ve got it into their heads that we’re up to something nothing will make them change their minds.’
A sudden, delightful thought occurred to me.
‘Do you think they’ll try to spy on us?’
‘Maybe. I hope so, and something tells me you’d like that?’
I’d immediately gone red, which was al
l the answer he needed. There was a wicked glint in his eye as he went on.
‘If you really want that, maybe we could set it up?’
I made to answer, then stopped, remembering how I’d felt when Vanessa had caught us, and the consequences. All my adult life I’d enjoyed the idea of being caught, or watched – even made to do it in public – but I wasn’t at all sure how I’d cope with the reality, or the effect it would have on my imagination. Seeing my indecision, Julian quickly backed off.
‘Just a thought, that’s all.’
‘No, I ... I would quite like it, I think. It’s just that when we got caught by Vanessa I felt really bad. I mean, the way she saw me! But ...’
I trailed off, unable to admit the effect she’d had on me, but my cheeks must have been cherry red and there was a knowing quality to Julian’s smile.
‘Take your time, but if you are up for it don’t think twice about asking.’
‘Thank you.’
He’d given me the answer I needed, tempting me, but allowing me to make the final decision. It was also the worst possible answer, because it meant I might actually do it. Even as I took another swallow of wine the dirty thoughts had begun to boil up in my head, of men watching from the undergrowth as Julian took me on the altar in the folly, every intimate detail of my penetrated body on show to them, their cocks in their hands as they gave in to the lust I’d inspired.
Later that night, as we made love on the huge four-poster in the master bedroom, drunk and horny with wine and dirty talk, my head was so full of rude thoughts I didn’t know which to focus on. Julian was at his best, masculine and confident in his actions but never failing to give plenty of attention to my needs, yet while he was always uppermost in my thoughts as he took me to orgasm, and as I let him take his own pleasure between my breasts, he was never alone. First it was Vanessa, riding my face with my tongue up her bottom and my own cheeks well smacked as Julian licked me to ecstasy, and then a ring of eager, gaping men, erect cocks in their hands as Julian speckled my naked breasts with his come.
