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

by Simone Leigh

  With my juice and cum soaked hand, I insert a single finger into her back passage, opening her up, circling against the ring of muscle. With my other hand, I reach around to her clit, slipping between her lips to flick and massage at the small, hard nub.

  At the back, I work in a second finger, stretching her further open. I want her ready to take me after she’s come.

  It won’t be long. Her hips are beginning to judder, so, still working her clit, keeping her moaning all the time, I withdraw my fingers from her ass, instead plunging my cock, in a single movement, full length into her sodden pussy. She wails a response. And now I start to thrust.

  Ahhh… she feels so tight, and her cunt clutches at me each time I withdraw…

  Does she do that on purpose? Or can’t she help it?

  It doesn’t matter. It feels great….

  Grinding my hips against her, I circle inside her, working her from the inside. Her passage starts to judder around me, her climax rising.…

  With a scream she goes into orgasm, trying to writhe and buck, but pinned inside by me, she can’t go anywhere. Still fingering her clit, I extend the moment for her as long as I can, before she yells, “Stop, Michael, please stop.”

  Immediately, I withdraw from her, but now it’s my turn. My cock slick with her juices, I ease into her ass, watching her face from behind as I do so. James is watching too; her expression. I love taking her up the back, so does he; but always we are careful when we do so.

  But she seems comfortable, her breathing short and rapid, eyes a little glazed, but okay.

  “Charlotte, am I hurting you?”

  She shakes her head, still with that same dreamy expression, and now, after a couple of short, slow test thrusts, I sheath myself inside her.

  Her orgasm hasn’t fully died away. She still pulses inside, and her hips are a-quiver.…

  Another one, Baby?

  With easy slow thrusts, I fuck her ass, but reaching around again to her clitoris, I start to work her again. She’s moaning softly. James, seeing what’s happening, reaches in, tweaking at her nipples, rolling and pulling. And with each movement, she trembles and shivers.

  And now, she comes again, this time rising back onto her hands, face upraised as she howls her climax.

  And that’s enough for me. Irresistibly, I cum, and balls tight, I shoot into her, slamming in my load as I bend close over her, holding her tightly at the hip and waist.

  She may want me to be her ‘Golden Lover’, and for her, I will be, but still, I want to fuck my Charlotte.

  _________________________________

  Charlotte

  It is very good of Beth to invite me out, and Richard encourages her to be my friend, but I find shopping with her a bit surreal. It’s great fun, but the shops she uses have sky-high prices and, although my Master always encourages me to buy something, still I don’t like taking money from him or Michael. It doesn’t feel right.

  I buy myself a pair of pretty but cheap ear-rings, paying from my own account, and keeping my Master’s credit card firmly in my purse.

  And now it is time for afternoon tea….

  _________________________________

  I sit, surrounded by twittering airheads; a dozen women, all newly introduced to me, and already, I have forgotten most of their names.

  The topics of conversation involve how much their husbands are earning, hairstyles, fashion, who might be pregnant next, how much shopping allowance their husbands give them….

  Don’t any of them actually do anything?

  None of them seems to have any life outside a procession of parties, entertainment and shopping. All live in the reflected glow of their husband’s business or occupation, satellites to someone else’s reality.

  What do they do all day?

  It occurs to me that Michael must make quite a bit of money out of these women. As I listen, it is clear that his Centre is a popular destination. They talk of gyms and make-overs, pamper days and manicures, who is the best masseur….

  “The handsome, blond guy…. you know the one…. with the beautiful eyes….”

  Mmmm.…

  I am bored rigid, trying to remain polite, and to at least appear to be paying attention to the prattling around me. Some of the woman are lovely to look at, or at least, perfectly made up and turned out, which often amounts to the same thing, and around us, I see male heads turned, looking in at the group, scanning the perfect faces.

  Sitting, sipping tea from fine porcelain, exchanging meaningless chit-chat with these primped and preened ladies, nonetheless, I can’t help but notice that Beth stands out among them. Noticeably, some of the surreptitious male admirers from around us are looking at her in particular. Although she is, like the others, perfectly turned out and spotlessly groomed, there is, in her eyes, a spark. She, like me, came from humble beginnings, and I know that she also had, in her own way, a fight to get to where she is.

  And does she like it now, where she is?

  Our eyes meet, and she sucks in a smile, rolling her eyes at the Barbie-like, conveyor-belt-produced beauty sitting next to her, whose current conversation centres around the best choice of polish to avoid chipped nails.

  I begin to think that I may wear my roughened hands with pride.

  The tea party disperses, one after another of the Stepford Wives making her excuses and leaving. Eventually only Beth and I remain.

  “Want something a bit stronger than tea?” she asks.

  I sniff. “A glass of wine would be nice, wouldn’t it.”

  We order a bottle of chilled rosé, with some nibbles to stop the alcohol sitting too heavily.

  Beth looks at me. “Sorry about that.” she says. “I forget that you’re new to this. Dearly as I love Richard, having to keep company with the wives of his business associates can be a bit wearing.”

  “Mmm....” I try to be non-committal, to avoid being rude about Beth’s friends.

  “It’s okay.” she says. “I know exactly what you’re thinking. It was just the same for me, as it became clear that Richard and I were more than just….” She looks at me closely now. “You’d better get used to it though.”

  I’m startled. “What? Why?”

  “You’re with James, and he’s Richard’s co-director now, his partner. You’re going to have to rub shoulders with them too.”

  I’d not thought of that….

  She laughs. “Don’t panic. It’s not all the time. Just put on your best bib and tucker when they have dinners and what-have-you, paste on your ‘polite’ face, and live your own life the rest of the time.”

  An hour later, the bottle is all but empty, and it occurs to me that I really do have a kindred spirit in Beth. She very much understands where I have come from, and she understands too, a lot of what is inside my head. With Beth, I can unload my worries.

  “I have James telling me that he doesn’t want me to go back to university next term; that it’s too dangerous until they track down the gang members they are looking for….” I am almost in despair. “After everything I went through to get there, and now to be told I can’t go back….”

  “Have you agreed to not go back?”

  “Um, no, not exactly….”

  She gives my hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. It’s only going be temporary. Perhaps some of your academic work could be moved around with your on-the-job training? That way it just changes the timing of individual parts of your work, doesn’t it? Not the whole thing. If you like, I’ll talk with Richard. I’m sure he’d help if he knew about it.” She grins, wickedly. “And you do have compensations. After all, you’ve got two of them to play with, haven’t you.”

  I laugh. She leans in, conspiratorially. “Don’t they ever get jealous of each other?”

  “No, not ever. It’s never been a problem at all. The only time jealousy ever came into play was….” and I stall. How do I tell Beth that the single real outburst of jealousy came from my Master, over my meeting her own husband for
the first time? Although, now that I think about it, his reaction to Daniel has also rung a warning bell. I change tack.

  “After the auction, I met Michael on only the second day. It’s been the two of them ever since.”

  Eyes wide, she stares at me. “So, when….” Her mobile rings. “Blast!” she mutters. Answering it. “Hi Ross. Yes, sorry I’m late. I was just chatting with Charlotte. Yes, I’m coming now.”

  She looks at me apologetically, waving over the waiter for the check. “Sorry. Gotta go. Here, this is my treat.” She pays the bill and leaves, smiling and waving back at me as she vanishes into the crowd, disappointed male faces following her.

  _________________________________

  In Reception, having returned from my shopping trip with Beth, through the internal window I can see my Master talking with Richard. They’re obviously busy so I pour myself a coffee, and sit to read a text book while I wait for him.

  “Dendritic structures in the cooling of cast metals….” I settle to read, making occasional notes in the margins.

  Concentrating on my book, I startle as a shadow looms over me. “Sorry,” comes my Master’s voice. “Didn’t mean to make you jump.” His head twists as he looks to see what I am reading. “You find the metallurgical side of things interesting?”

  “Mmm, yes I do. It’s very visual, easy to think about….”

  We are interrupted as Richard exits the office. “Hello, Charlotte. Not waiting too long I hope?”

  “No, just a few minutes.” In fact, I have no idea how long I’ve been waiting. Long enough to work through a couple of chapters of my book.

  He turns to my Master. “Anyway, we can finish it off tomorrow and….” His phones pings. “S’cuse me….. Oh, hello Ross. No, she’s not here. I thought she was with you. No? Hold on a minute…. Charlotte, did Elizabeth say where she was going when you parted company?”

  “She said that Ross was taking her home, and she was going to meet him.”

  A cloud passes over Richard’s face. “When was that?”

  “Er, maybe, three o’clock.”

  He checks his watch. “That’s over two hours ago.” There is urgency in his voice. He spins. “Francis….”

  “Already on it, Richard.” Francis is tapping keys, peering at her laptop screen. “Her phone is showing up as being in Berkeley Street.”

  Richard? She always calls him ‘Mr Haswell’.

  “Is that where you and she were shopping?” he asks me.

  “Just around the corner, yes.”

  “Francis, give the exact location to Ross.” and back to his phone. “Ross, did you catch all that? Yes, go and find her.” Brow furrowed, he is pale.

  “Richard, what’s wrong?” asks my Master.

  “Elizabeth was kidnapped once. Ever since then, I’ve always kept an eye on more or less where she is…. Part of Ross’ job description is to be, essentially, her bodyguard. Charlotte, did anything odd happen while you were out with her?”

  “Um, not odd exactly. There were men looking at her, but they were looking at all the women. I thought they were just…. well, looking at women.”

  “Did you say anything to Elizabeth about it?”

  “Er, no.” I gulp, hanging my head. “I should have, shouldn’t I?”

  Richard looks at me over his glasses. “You weren’t to know, but for future reference Charlotte, be suspicious. It comes naturally to you anyway, and it’s a skill you should hone, not damp down.”

  “Why was Beth abducted before?” asks my Master. “For ransom?”

  “On that occasion, no. It was someone with a grudge against me, but ransom is always a possibility of course.”

  “How did you get her back?”

  “Tracked her phone.…”

  Richard paces up and down. In less than five minutes, his mobile rings again. “Yes? No…. Oh, God! Yes, have a look around for anything else, then come back here to the office Ross, if you would.”

  He switches off his phone, looking sick. “Elizabeth’s phone was in a refuse bin on Berkeley Street, along with her bag.”

  For a moment he almost sags, looking reduced. Then, swiping hands through his hair, he stands up straight again. “Francis, call Will Stanton would you. Report Elizabeth as missing.”

  My Master is shaking his head, unbelieving. “Richard, is there anything we can do?”

  “Charlotte, these men you saw, ‘looking at women’. Do you think you could identify them?”

  “Um, I wasn’t really looking at them, but I can try.”

  “You weren’t looking?”

  Feeling very awkward now, “When some guy you’re not interested in, tries to eye you up, you look the other way.…”

  The office phone rings, Francis answering. “Richard, it’s Will for you.”

  He takes the phone. “Hello, Will. Yes, yes that’s right. Within the last two hours. Yes, she was with friends, Charlotte actually, out shopping. Charlotte’s come back, but Elizabeth didn’t get to her rendezvous with Ross…… Yes, that’s right. Charlotte’s here. She thinks she saw men looking while they were out, and that she might recognise the faces. Yes…. I’m sure she would look through the photos if you can bring them here….” He glances over at me, and I nod vigorously. “Yes, thanks. I’ll be here at the office.”

  He passes the phone back to Francis and sits back on the desk edge, head back, breathing deeply with his eyes closed. My Master and I stand helplessly by. Then Richard stands again, pulling himself straight. “Sorry about that.” he says. “I’m no good to her if I panic.”

  “What would you like me to do?” I ask.

  “Will’s sending an officer over with photos of known suspects for ransom, abduction and similar. If you could take the time to look through them….”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Shall I send out for something to eat?” asks Francis.

  “Yes please, Francis. It could be a long night.”

  “I’ll let Michael know what’s happening.” says my Master. “Don’t want him panicking too.”

  Within fifteen minutes, I am sitting in the conference room, once more, scanning faces. This is becoming a habit.

  An hour later I am still there, my Master sitting across from me, occasionally sipping coffee and ….

  I freeze over a face. The police officer says, “Recognise him?”

  The face is older, more lined, the hair receding and greyer, but…

  “Yes, but not from today.”

  “Then where?”

  “This man was at Blessingmoors. He was one of the staff there when I was a kid.”

  The officer checks the reference and taps it into his laptop. “He’s an identified trafficker. And he’s also known to be in this area now. We’ve been keeping an eye on him, but could never pin a conviction on him….” He taps more keys.

  “…. he has a number of known associates…” He keeps tapping.

  Both Richard and my Master are bending behind over me, watching over my shoulder. The officer swings his laptop to me. “Could you look through those, please. See if any of them look familiar.”

  I click through half a dozen faces, then….” That’s one of them. One of the men I saw today.”

  My Master straightens up. “Fuck!”

  Richard drops a hand on my shoulder. “Charlotte, I’m sorry. It looks as though they took Elizabeth by mistake. They were after you. They abducted the wrong woman.”

  The Virgin and the Masters

  Part Three

  A Continuing Tale of

  (Ex-)Virgin Erotica, BDSM and Ménage

  with Two Masters and More……

  Part Nineteen Of

  The ‘Buying the Virgin’ Series

  Author: Simone Leigh

  The Virgin and the Masters

  Part Three

  Charlotte

  Richard turns to Michael. “Get her out of here, out of the City. Take her back to your mountain place. No-one’s going to fall across that by accident. She shou
ld be safe there.”

  “Hang on.” I protest. “I don’t want to hide away. I should be helping here. And Beth’s my friend too.”

  My Master swings a long finger in my direction. “Go with Michael. We have things to do here, and I’ll work better when I’m not worrying about what’s happening to you. If you’re with Michael, I know you’re safe.”

  “I’m not some kid to be packed off to bed. And I looked after myself quite nicely long before I ever met you.”

  “Charlotte. I’m not arguing. You’re going. Michael….”

  Michael takes me by the wrist, pulling me towards him. “Are you going to come without arguing? Or do I have to sling you over my shoulder and carry you out? Believe me, in this case, I will.”

  There is no way I can physically resist Michael. What choice do I have?

  Reluctantly, I gather my dignity and leave with him. But I don’t have to like it. As we drive up the steep mountain road, narrow and bending, I stare out of the passenger window, unspeaking.

  “Are you going to keep that up all day?” he asks. “There’s no point sulking at me just because you don’t like the realities.

  “And how would you feel in my situation?”

  “It hardly matters. I’m not in your situation. He rubs my thigh with his non-driving hand. “Come on. I know you’re not happy about it, but James really will cope better without you there. So will Richard. So, why don’t you make the best of a bad job and at least try to cheer up?”

  He’s right of course. And I shouldn’t take it out on him….

  I paint on a smile and turn it on Michael, full power, total dazzle.

  He grins. “That’s my girl…. Hey, how do you feel about picking out a Christmas tree from the woods at the back? We can at least get the place looking good.”

  “Great idea.”

  ______________________________________

  Several hours later, our kitchen/lounge/living space smells pleasantly of pine and resin. The chosen tree did not put up much resistance in the face of Michael’s axe, and now it has succumbed to my efforts to trim it up for Christmas.