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Buying the Virgin Box Set Four - The Virgin and the Masters: BDSM, Punishment, and Ménage between a Young Woman, her Master and her Lover

Page 4

by Simone Leigh


  My pussy convulses again at his words, and again, the heat of an open mouth descends over my entrance, licking away my juices. Michael’s fingers… I think it is Michael’s fingers, flick and flutter over my clit.

  Moaning loudly now, all trace of self-control gone, spine arching, I raise myself on shoulders and feet, trying to get some relief. The tongue delves deep inside me. My clit and pussy and ass dissolve together in a frenzy of sexual sensation. My orgasm rises again, and this time there is no stopping it. This time, it is not to be denied….

  I think they know it. This time, there is no cessation. Michael slides my vibrating nub between his fingers, kneading it, circling and plucking and flicking. My Master, his hands supporting my upraised hips, sucks and laps and mouth at my molten cunt until….

  Screaming, I orgasm. No holds barred, my climax spasms through me, in a tsunami of fire. The sheer intensity of it robs me of breath, and my howling wail wavers loudly and softly as I snatch at the air.

  I am still riding the wave as the blindfold is snatched from me, and my Master, bending me all but double, legs pressed back against me, my knees hard against my chest, plunges in, ramming hard, his body as deeply within me as is possible.

  I howl the pain and the ecstasy of it. He is himself volcanically aroused, his cock huge within me, stretching me wide, as he fucks me hard.

  He seizes my chin, fingers holding my face tight, pulling my face to his as he kisses me roughly, almost violently. His mouth pressed against mine, he spasms and groans, first grinding against me, then repeatedly ramming hard into me. His eyes wild, he pulls out and away from me, lying to one side, panting.

  And now, Michael is there, pushing his cock at my mouth. Again, he is already huge. Our earlier tryst has had no effect on his readiness. His cock-head streams over my lips as I open to take him in. There is no question of my working him. I simply wrap my lips around my teeth and let him face-fuck me, the ridge of his cock riding over skin slippery with sweat and saliva and pre-cum. My jaws ache, stretching wide to take his girth. He smells of heat, and lust, and sex; the pungency of his groin washing over me as he brings himself to climax in my mouth.

  I feel it coming. He pauses, trembling, one hand gripping his shaft. Through my chest, the tension in his thighs grows and then, with a grunt, he spurts, hot, briny cream coating my tongue, before he pulls out, covering my face, splashing into my hair and over my neck.

  Still shaking, he drops to all four over me, his still seeping cock resting on my neck.

  “Jeez….” he mutters.

  “I’ll second that….” comes my Master’s voice.

  “If that’s what a few weeks’ enforced abstinence gives, then perhaps it’s worth it.”

  “Um… Guys.” I say. “Any chance….?”

  They both burst out laughing. “Sorry, Charlotte.” says Michael, untying my wrists. “We’re forgetting ourselves aren’t we.”

  My Master tosses me a towel and I wipe myself down. “Um, Michael, Master. Are we able to have a bath or a shower here?”

  Michael grins. “I was joking about the tin bath. Yes, we can use the hotel facilities. In fact, sensibly, we need to set ourselves up in one of the rooms there over Christmas, at least for everyday purposes. We can come here when we want to be cosy by the fire, or if we want some privacy.”

  He leans over to kiss me, wiping away a little of his cum that I missed. “You do like it here?”

  He needs reassurance. “Stop worrying. I love it here.” I stroke his face. “We’re going to be so happy.”

  “Yes, we are.” smiles my Master. “By the way, did I mention that we have visitors tomorrow?”

  “No, who?”

  “Richard and Beth wanted to have a look at the place. Um, I think they’re as intrigued as much by our living arrangements, as by the house itself, but anyway, they’ll be dropping by tomorrow morning to have a look at the place.”

  “Great!” say Michael. “Our first guests.”

  _____________________________________________

  The car pulls up, chauffeured by Ross. Richard steps out of the back, walking round to open the door for Beth. He is wearing a suit. She is beautifully dressed, wearing an expensively tailored gown and high heels. Her hair and make-up are immaculate, her nails polished, and she moves like a ballerina. Everyone always tells me that we look alike, but seeing her arrive, wearing my jeans, sneakers and three layers of woollen sweaters against the cold, I feel like an ugly duckling.

  Michael groans. “Oh God. Look at the state of her. You did warn them that we’re living on a building site, didn’t you?”

  My Master clicks his tongue. “I did, yes. but some people don’t take a hint.” Then he pastes on a smile. “Beth, Richard. Lovely to see you. Do come in.”

  ___________________________________

  Michael gives them the guided tour, my Master and I watching from afar. It is Michael’s project after all. Richard seems deeply interested in everything. Beth oscillates between fascination at the work and the building, being appalled at our living conditions, and dumbstruck at how to cope with her high heels over the broken floors and mud.

  She used to be a hotel cleaner herself. Surely, she’s not forgotten all of that?

  But, however out of place she looks, Beth still looks beautiful. I heave a deep sigh.

  My Master glances sideways at me. “Something wrong?”

  I don’t really know how to express what I’m feeling. “She’s such a lady, isn’t she? So elegant. I always feel clumsy around her. She’s always well dressed. She dances beautifully. She never looks less than perfect. I just wish I was a bit more like her.”

  He looks amused. “More like her? Charlotte, you are matchless just as you are.”

  ___________________________________

  We sit together in the kitchen, the five of us, Michael pouring into a tea pot from a kettle, using an old rag to hold the handle.

  Beth suddenly leans towards me, peering down.

  “Charlotte, whatever happened to your hands?”

  Embarrassed, I try to cover my hands, wringing them together as though one hand can hide another. “Um, I was in a foundry for a couple of days. Then we were in a metal and ore processing plant, drawing tungsten bar down into wire. They use graphite as a lubricant. It gets everywhere…”

  “Everywhere?”

  “Yes, Everywhere…. I’ve not managed to clean up properly yet.”

  “But your nails…?”

  “Oh, yes…. I was polishing up a sample in the metallurgy lab. Er… My fingers were numb with the water coolant, and I took off my nails and fingertips on the polishing wheel… I didn’t actually notice anything until I saw the blood on the wheel…”

  My Master laughs. “I did exactly the same thing myself, as a student…”

  “Sounds painful.” comments Richards.

  “Oh yes. It is.” he says. “You don’t feel a thing when it happens, but once your fingers warm up afterwards, it hurts like billy-oh, eh Charlotte? It happens, once, to most students who spend any amount of time in a metallurgy lab.”

  He’s right. But still, I sit with my hands hidden.

  ___________________________________

  “Would you like to come shopping one day next week, Charlotte?” asks Beth. “There’s me and a group of the girls having a bit of a get-together.”

  “Yes, you should go, Charlotte.” says my Master. Michael nods agreement.

  I hesitate. “Come on,” says Beth. “Why not join us? Get yourself out, somewhere a bit more civilised for a few hours.”

  “Um, maybe. Let me think about it.”

  A few minutes later, Beth excuses herself, Michael directing her through to the hotel to find the bathrooms.

  Richard sits, silently drinking tea from a chipped mug.

  “Charlotte, why so reluctant to go with Beth? You got along rather well with her, I thought?” asks my Master, after Beth has left the room.

  “Yes, I do. but she mentioned her friend
s being there too. I don’t think I’d fit in very well.”

  Eyes rolling at me, he pulls my hands out from between my knees, turning them over, examining both sides, looking at my stained palms and broken nails. “If it’s bothering you, why don’t you get yourself a professional manicure? I’m sure Michael would be delighted to have you using his facilities at the Centre. In any case, you hardly lead the same kind of life as Beth. You can’t expect to…”

  Richard breaks in, looking puzzled. “Charlotte, why are you trying to compare yourself with Elizabeth? Yes, she behaves like a lady. I expect it in my wife, and she knows it, but I also know, that you know how she and I met…”

  I blush. “Er… yes, she did tell me, that evening we had rather a lot of wine together.”

  I glance sideways at my Master. He looks intrigued, but obviously doesn’t want to speak out of turn. Richard follows my gaze, pauses, then turns back to me, with a lop-sided smile.

  Pointing a long finger at my Master, “You didn’t tell him?”

  “Um, no, well, it seemed a bit personal. I didn’t think you would like it if I started gossiping about you….”

  Richard bursts out laughing. “And all this time, James, I thought you knew.” He nods me to my Master. “Feel free to tell him. After all, I know how you two met. But apart from that, keep it to yourself. Yes?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  My Master sounds irritable. “Knew what? Charlotte?”

  “Er… How Richard and Beth met. Er…. Beth….”

  Richard holds up his hands. “Spare my blushes. Wait until I’m not around before you tell him. Elizabeth and I need to be going anyway. Do meet up with her and her friends in the City next week, Charlotte. Get yourself a change of air.”

  We see him out to his car, where Ross is sitting, eyes closed in the driver’s seat, listening to music. Michael and Beth join us after a minute or two, Beth looking as fresh and beautiful as a newly picked daisy. As they drive away, we wave them off.

  My Master swivels to me, eyes crinkling. “Spill the beans, Charlotte.” Michael frowns in puzzlement.

  “Um.… Beth was working as a maid in the hotel, cleaning the rooms. I think it was the one where you had the apartment. It was hot one day, and she used the shower in the Penthouse, where Richard was staying. He’d gone out, but he came back early and caught her in his shower, um, naked…. then…. er…. he tied her to the shower and um…”

  My Master creases up with laughter. “I get it. No wonder he was so relaxed about you and me.”

  “There’s a bit more to it than that.”

  “Really?”

  “Er…. He offered her a contract, and she accepted. She was um… at his beck and call, if you know what I mean, and in return he funded her through college and trained her up.”

  My Master sobers up. “You’re kidding? So, when he knew that I’d bought you….”

  “Yes, he was comfortable with it once he knew that I went into it willingly. Because he did essentially the same thing with Beth.”

  Michael is shaking his head, arms folded, a broad grin on his face. “I definitely think you should cultivate your friendship with Beth.”

  __________________________________

  “Charlotte, can we talk about something?” My Master’s face is serious. Michael is here too, and I can see by his unhappy expression, that he knows what my Master wants to discuss.

  “Is something wrong, Master?” My heart sinks. “Have I done something to upset you?”

  “Oh, no. No.” he says hastily. “No, nothing like that. But…. we wanted you to have a couple of days here, relaxing before we mentioned this to you.” He swipes a hand through his hair. “Um, why don’t you sit down.”

  He waves me to where Michael is patting the seat of the chair next to him. As I sit, he takes my hand, holding it tightly.

  Beginning to feel really anxious, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s about that home you were in as a child, Blessingmoors ….”

  My throat tightens, and I stare at the ground.

  My Master hesitates, but then, “The Police still have the inquiry open from the original events there. They are trying to collect evidence on some of the original gang-members that ran the operation, but who they never succeeded in convicting at the time.”

  Michael, holding my hand, is all but squeezing the blood out of my fingers.

  Breathe……

  “Okay, so….?”

  “They would like to interview you; ask you some questions about events there, have you look over old photographs to see if you can identify any of the people involved…. Could you do that?”

  Collecting my scattered thoughts, “Why are you asking me this? Instead of the Police?”

  “Haswell is friendly with the Police Commissioner, who knows that he has a personal interest in you. And of course, he asked me. Everyone thought it would be better coming to you this way, rather than your getting a phone call out of the blue from some stranger. I said…. Michael and I said…. we would ask you, on condition that it waited until after your exams, and once you were back here so you have some moral support.”

  Breathe……

  “It’s Richard who is asking me to do this?”

  “Yes.”

  Breathe……

  “What happens if I identify someone? Someone they want?”

  “If it comes to it, and they have enough evidence, they’ll ask you to stand as witness in court.”

  “What do you think, Charlotte?” asks Michael softly. “Could you do it….?” His beautiful blue eyes are soft with concern. “……Stop the same thing happening to someone else that happened to you?”

  Yes, that’s the clincher isn’t it….

  “Yes, I’ll do it.” I say.

  My Master voice is startled. “You’re sure? I thought you might want to think about it for a while?”

  “No. Michael’s right. It needs to be done. If I can help, I’m in. Now…. Um…. ‘S’cuse me.” And I dash out, to throw up, outside, into the bushes.

  ______________________________

  I enter the conference room in the Haswell Building. It has been chosen for my interview to provide me with familiar surroundings, rather than asking me to attend a police station. and yes, I do feel more comfortable, knowing that my friends are only on the other side of the door. My Master, Michael, Beth and Richard, are all gathered in the next room.

  A thin-faced man, with nondescript sandy hair, stands to greet me.

  “Hello, Jennifer. Do sit down. I’m Officer Corby. I’ve been asked to conduct your interview today.”

  I sit. “It’s Charlotte. Not Jennifer.”

  “Ah yes, there was a note about that.” He pencils a couple of words into the margin.

  I don’t care for the look of the man, Corby. He has an officious, I-know-it-all-and-better-than-you look about him.

  “Thank you for coming in today, Charlotte, and for agreeing to this interview. I do understand that it must have been difficult for you.” says Corby.

  “That’s fine. I’m happy to help if I can.”

  “Of course, yes. Now, about Mr James Alexanders….”

  What???

  “I’m sorry.” he continues. “I know this is going to be an uncomfortable discussion for you, but we have the records from the auction house, listing him as your… buyer….”

  “What’s this got to do with anything?” I demand. “I thought I was here to talk about what happened at Blessingmoors?”

  “Yes, that is one of the topics we would like to discuss with you. But also, we would like to discuss Mr Alexanders’ involvement with the auctioning of young women…”

  “I’m not willing to discuss that. It’s private business, between the two of us.”

  “That may appear to be the case to you, Ms Conners, but the investigation into that auction house, and the circumstances surrounding it….”

  “Are you trying to pin something on James Alexanders?”
/>   “He is listed as the buyer of a young woman…you… for purposes of…”

  “He did nothing I didn’t agree to. He didn’t hurt me and he’s done nothing wrong.”

  “Miss Conners. We want to take proceedings against all the buyers.…”

  I stand, my chair scraping back behind me. “No! I’m not saying another word. This is not what I came here for.” Turning on my heel, I leave the room, seething with rage.

  “Miss Conners….” The man’s voice trails out behind me. “Miss Conners….”

  The Virgin and the Masters

  Part Two

  A Continuing Tale of

  (Ex-)Virgin Erotica, BDSM and Ménage

  with Two Masters and More……

  Part Eighteen Of

  The ‘Buying the Virgin’ Series

  Author: Simone Leigh

  The Virgin and the Masters

  Part Two

  Elizabeth

  The door slams open from the conference room, and Charlotte, red faced, clearly furious, strides out. “We’re going home.” she snaps at Michael and James.

  They both look baffled. “Charlotte? What’s wrong?” asks Michael.

  She whirls on my husband. “Mr Haswell, I’m sorry, but you told me that this was about Blessingmoors. Not about some kind of witch-hunt on James.”

  Richard looks perplexed. “What…?”

  James’ head swivels. “Sorry, Charlotte?”

  “They’re trying to pin something on you, about the auction house and what went on there…”

  James says nothing, lips pressed tight, staring at the floor. Corby comes into the room after Charlotte.

  “Miss Conners,” he starts. “I understand that you’re upset but….”

 

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