'What's so funny, slave?'
His big hand under her chin, he made her lift her face and look at herself, and him behind her, in the mirror. She thought she'd contained the grin, but obviously she hadn't. Balthazar had spotted it.
He cupped her face with his long sturdy fingers, almost covering half of it, and Michiko's knees went weak when he pushed two of those fingers into her mouth, pressing down on her lower lip and making her open up. His skin tasted clean and fresh, but there was the faintest hint of citrus as if he'd had an orange for breakfast and peeled it himself. Without thinking she began to suckle on the digits like a baby.
'Good ... that's good,' he whispered in her ear, pushing down harder, making it difficult for her to suck neatly and tidily. Her mouth gaped, and she felt exposed and controlled, utterly vulnerable. As he mastered her mouth, his free hand came up, cupping her crotch through the fine cloth of her skirt.
Her sex trembled as he kneaded her quite roughly, and she teetered on her high heels, leaning back against his rocklike form for support. Her lashes fluttered down. She was unable to look at herself and face how quickly and completely she'd succumbed to him, but Balthazar said 'No, look!' and adjusted the angle of her face with his huge mitt.
For all the strangeness of the situation, they looked good together. The counterpoint between Balthazar's height and breadth and her more slender, athletic shape was harmonious. And the sight of her mouth open and working as he gripped and released, gripped and released between her legs compelled her to moan as best she could around the obstruction of his fingers.
'You like that, don't you?'
He was smiling, and his voice sounded jolly. Happy. Despite the fact that her sex was throbbing and she was suddenly aching to come, she was struck again by how enthusiastic and boyish he was as a master. He put on no airs and affected no poses. He just enjoyed handling a woman and having her at his mercy. He was strange. He was unexpected. He was refreshing.
She nodded in his hold and his wide face lit with a beaming smile.
'Good. Now let's see your panties. I love panties.' He nodded in satisfaction.
For a moment, Michiko wasn't sure what to do, then Balthazar nodded, indicating she could lower her hands to her task. He stepped back, releasing both her mouth and her groin, and she almost moaned again, bereft of his touch.
Her skirt wasn't overly tight, but it was slim cut and she had to slide it carefully up over her hips to show her underwear. She clutched it in a bunch, around her waist, so he could see.
'Now that's a sight to rouse even a dead man,' observed Balthazar roundly, his hazel eyes gleaming fierily as he perused the sight in the mirror.
Michiko's exquisite lace-encrusted white satin thong looked like an exotic flower against the honeyed tones of her silky skin. The contrast screamed out, enticing and both pure and deeply sluttish.
'Now then, stick your finger in your pussy. Wiggle it about a bit, then pull it out again.'
Clutching awkwardly at the bundle of her skirt, Michiko obeyed him. Her cleft was swimming with juice and, where it had soaked into the thin crotch piece of her thong, she found the cloth was saturated. She had to bite her lip as her fingertip brushed her swollen clit and, embarrassed, she closed her eyes.
'No ... no, you must watch. Come on, slave, forage about a bit, make sure your finger is nice and sticky.'
Gasping involuntarily, Michiko complied, gazing helplessly at the lewd sight of herself fishing about in her underwear and trying not to knock her finger against her clitoris in the process. She was close to the edge and, if she came without permission, she'd let him down.
'Now taste yourself.'
The words made her sex flutter dangerously, and this time she did sway. Balthazar's arm came around her waist, holding her up and embracing her where she was holding up her skirt.
'Go on, slave, have a suck ... You know you'll like it.'
Michiko withdrew her hand from her crotch and slid her glistening fingertips into her mouth. The taste was quite bland really. Vaguely salty, vaguely oceanic. But she made a show of sucking enthusiastically as if it were primo sushi, spicy, hot and pungent.
'Now do it again. I want a taste.'
If anything, there was even more juice down there when she slid her fingers back beneath the edge of her thong and into her niche. Obediently, she scooped some of it up and drew out her fingers again, lifting them up and offering them silently for Balthazar's approval.
His mouth was like a furnace and he sucked at her essence like a baby with a lollipop, going 'mmm ... mmm ... mmm..." all the time as he cleaned her off.
'Again!' he commanded, and a moment later he was savouring her again.
'Delicious!' he proclaimed when they'd repeated the process a couple of times more. 'You're a wicked, dirty, horny, juicy girl, aren't you, Madame Michiko,' he said, his voice soft and joyful. And even though he'd used her name, she still felt deeply subservient. If anything, more so, as if his hold over her nullified her status.
Her fingers were clean now, but still he went back again and sucked them, his tongue active, flickering and exploring. It was the most tantalising sensation, as if he were crouched between her legs, licking her clit. Out of her conscious control, her hips bucked and danced.
'Ah, lady sorceress, you want to come, don't you?' he murmured after giving her fingertips a last once-over.
Not speaking, Michiko nodded. Why deny the fact? She'd not expected much of this encounter when they'd first discussed it, but suddenly she realised that Balthazar was turning out to be one of the most exciting men she'd ever played with, dear Hiro and long-beloved André notwithstanding.
'Ah well, my sweet, there are a few things yet to do before that happens, I think.' He grinned, pleased with himself but somehow not unkind. 'This is a payment, after all, isn't it?' His eyes met hers in the mirror, glinting wickedly.
Then, without warning, he whipped open the buttons of her suit jacket and gripped her breast through the wafer-delicate silk of the thin camisole she wore beneath it. His big hands could almost have encompassed both her dainty rounded breasts, but he concentrated on just one, kneading it firmly like baker working dough. The caress was rough, but it was just what she'd been hoping for. Between her legs, her sex throbbed and the juices flowed anew.
Balthazar made a low sound of approval in his throat and pushed aside the camisole, wedging the thin silk awkwardly beneath one of her breasts in a way that pushed it up and seemed to present it. After licking his finger and thumb as if he were about to turn the page of a book, he then took hold of her nipple in a pincer-like grip.
Lust rolled low and hard in Michiko's belly as she both watched and felt him manipulate her teat, twisting it this way and that, hurting her, but not inflicting anything that she couldn't bear or wouldn't have invited. It became harder and harder not to groan out loud and roll her hips like a helpless, horny slut.
And still he tugged, his broad face wreathed in smiles of pleasure, as if touching her was as good as touching himself. Maybe it was? His own powerful hips were thrusting forward, pressing a huge erection into the small of her back.
'Oh, pretty sorceress ... how I do want to spank you,' he whispered, leaning over to speak right into her ear, his breath soft and strangely sweet against the side of her face.
Do it! Do it! she wanted to shout, her bottom almost throbbing in anticipation. Pressing back, she worked it against his great thighs and the rocklike knot of his hard-on.
'Wicked girl ... you're trying to entice me,' he purred, reciprocating, rubbing and still tweaking at her nipple.
She pushed back harder.
And then he was manipulating her, manhandling her. She found herself bent over then swung around, her head dangling so that she could see herself in the mirror upside down, her face to one side of her naked bottom, the cheeks exhibited perfectly bare by the configuration of her thong. Just a single strand of narrow silk bisected the peaches of her backside, sharp white against the golden honey o
f her smooth skin.
Balthazar positioned himself alongside her, his merry eyes meeting hers in the mirror. He was the cheery, gleeful adolescent again, totally happy in the moment, younger than springtime, despite the grey hair of his apparent years and his true and much greater age. For a moment, she seemed to see Hiro to the other side of her displayed body, and she experienced again the powerful urge to enjoy the two of them together, taste the pleasures of both of her sexy, kinky boys.
Silently, as Balthazar reached down to cup her bottom cheek and assess its resilience, she vowed that, when the serious endeavour ahead of her was dispatched, Paula safe and Isidora banished, she would get her two men into bed together with her as a reward. Whether it was her reward, Balthazar's or even Hiro's she wasn't sure.
Balthazar was almost purring with appreciation again, and as his fingers palpated and tantalised, making her body fill with an energy that compelled her to press herself into his grip, a cool dispassionate part of her assessed him as he assessed her.
He was the strangest sexual dominant. More like a great teddy bear than a strict, forbidding master. He was in charge, but he really liked her and she sensed that all this was as much fun to him as anything. And yet he had enormous personal power and charisma to match his immense physical presence. And he had strength to hit her really, really hard if he wanted to.
One last firm squeeze, then he lifted his hand.
'Oh, you have such a lovely arse, Madame Michiko,' he announced.
Then with no further ado, he let fly the first spank.
Despite the vague idea she'd had that she'd be quiet and stoic, Michiko too let fly. With an enormously loud yelp to match the enormous burst of stinging heat in her buttock.
Great Amida, the man could hit! One strike and her arse felt as if it was in flames – and as more blows fell the fire was stoked.
Both cheeks were soon raging, and all thought of grace under pressure had vanished. She moaned and mewled and clutched at herself, only to have her hands gently dashed away from her own flesh to clear the path for Balthazar's greater hand and its divine purpose. When her fingers kept stealing back to her bottom cheeks of their own accord, Balthazar tut-tutted like an old-fashioned schoolmaster.
'Now, now, sorceress, that won't do at all. You're interrupting my concentration,' he chided gently, his hand still swinging, still impacting with her reddened cheeks, first one, then the other, matching the radiance. 'If you want something to do with your hands, my dear, why don't you play with yourself and be done with it. You're going to come sooner or later anyway. It might as well be now, might it not?'
Michiko found she'd lost the power of coherent speech, but she sobbed and gasped when her fingertips found their way into her cleft.
She was right on the brink, right on the edge, standing on the cliff. It would barely need anything at all to tip her over.
And when Balthazar slapped her quite softly, the impact of his hand jostling hers, she launched into the void, screaming and jerking in white-hot pleasure.
There was a bird singing outside the bedroom window and it woke Michiko from a brief, light doze. For a moment she lay still, monitoring her body and the aches and pains and twinges in her bottom and thighs, then she drew in a big gasp of air and began to chant silently, her lips moving.
Swiftly and efficiently, the healing spell swept away the lingering burn of pain from her spankings and the impact of Balthazar's belt. There would have been a perverse pleasure in just allowing it all to dissipate naturally, like badges of honourable suffering. But time was passing, the thousand hours were ticking away.
She sat up and looked at the owner of the bed. Balthazar was sprawled every which way, his legs akimbo, his arms hugging his pillow and his sizeable penis resting quietly against his long hairy thigh. The impression of a sexy teddy bear was reinforced, and she felt a twist of fondness in her heart.
What had threatened to be a chore had in the end been a delight. He had punished her severely. With belt and hand and a pair of silver nipple clamps that were now glittering amongst the bedding close by. But afterwards he'd been more than generous with pleasure.
What had touched her most was – when he'd enquired as to her relationship status and she'd described her fondness for Hiro – that he'd declined to penetrate her. Which she could only assume was some weird, old-fashioned chivalric notion of not fucking another man's woman.
He'd done a lot of other things though, using his big strong hands with a surgeon's precision that took her breath away. And not just his hands. She could still picture his grizzled head jammed between her legs as he'd licked her to the point when she could no longer think straight.
In return all he'd asked was that she allow him to ejaculate on her.
Which he'd done several times, exhibiting astonishing powers of recuperation. Great areas of her skin, principally breasts, belly and thighs were tight with dried semen.
First a shower, and then she'd quickly secure the grimoire and get back to the Priory as fast as she could. There were more preparations to make than she'd initially been aware of. Complications with the enchantment she hadn't foreseen.
'Where are you going, sweetheart?'
A huge paw clasped her arm as she made to rise from the bed. The sleeping giant was actually awake and eyeing her carefully from his place amongst the pillows.
'I have to go now, Balthazar. I have to get your grimoire to Sedgewick Priory and start the rituals tonight or we'll never get rid of Isidora.'
His deceptively sleepy eyes narrowed and his grip remained resolute. Michiko could have shaken him off magically, and possibly even physically, given her martial-arts skills. But even so, she remained where she was, watching him.
'I can't remember saying you could take my book with you. I thought the deal was just for a look at it.' He sat up, letting her go, as if he was sure she wouldn't move.
Michiko gave him a wry look. He was trying it on. He'd definitely agreed on 'borrow'.
Balthazar grinned and shrugged his big shoulders. 'OK, OK, you can take it.' He moved forwards across the bed and took her hand again, but this time his hold was light, almost pleading. 'But let me come with you. I can help. A trained physician will come in very useful.'
As her mind filled with notions and images, Michiko experienced a flush of guilt that made her blush. Despite the danger of Isidora, despite the peril that threatened Paula and her future, the first thing that had occurred to Michiko was the prospect of getting Balthazar and Hiro under one roof.
But he was right. She did need him. And his skills.
She twisted her fingers in his grip, took hold of his big hand and squeezed it hard.
'Thank you, Balthazar. I'd be glad of your help. Your expertise will be invaluable.' She leant forwards, kissed his broad, stubbly cheek. 'Especially if you can lay your hands on a defibrillator unit. At a moment's notice.'
Yes, if they were to kill someone and bring them back to life, they were going to need modern technology as well as ancient magic.
15 Endgames
'No! That's not possible! There must be another way!'
Still in shock from Michiko's explanation, Paula flinched at the anger in Rafe's outburst. He seemed more appalled at what lay ahead than she was.
'I'm afraid it's the only way,' the Japanese sorceress said, her voice gentle and regretful. 'To expel Isidora, or indeed any spirit attached to a Thousand Hour Marker, the physical host has to die.'
'No!' repeated Rafe in a low, angry growl. 'There must be some other option. Some other spell. Paula has to live ... she has to.' His face was set and hard but, when she looked at him, his brown eyes were full of pain and confusion. 'If there's anything I can do, just name it. I'm here.' Almost choking with emotion, Paula wanted to hug him for caring so much. Dear God, all this, even Isidora, was worth it to finally know a man who loved her so completely. She reached for his hand, squeezing it hard, lost for words.
Sedgewick's spacious conservatory was almost tropic
al in the early-evening sun; they'd been sitting and talking quietly about inconsequential things. Somehow it had been important to just do something normal for a change, even though Rafe had thought it best to remain around the house where it was easier to keep an eye on her. For changes.
A short while ago, Michiko had joined them, back from her lightning trip to London, bringing with her a newcomer to the Priory. Balthazar Davenheim, who was apparently a famous plastic surgeon as well as a sometime sorcerer and the owner of an undamaged grimoire containing just the spells they needed.
Paula glanced quickly his way. The man was sitting on one of the wrought-iron garden chairs, half swamping it. He was very tall and hugely stocky with grey grizzled hair, yet he had a face that was strangely kind and reassuring. His bedside face, she guessed, though she instinctively sensed he was on their side, or at least prepared to be in order to please Michiko. She wondered fleetingly what Hiro was feeling about the new arrival.
The Japanese sorceress sprang lightly to her feet and began to pace the green dappled space as if being in motion helped her think.
'Actually, there is a way you can help, Rafe.' She spun to face him. 'Balthazar's grimoire contains a variant that wasn't in André's. The Thousand Hour Marker can be transferred to someone else.' She took a deep breath. 'But then, of course, that person has to die instead.'
Paula opened her mouth. She wasn't sure what she was going to say but there was no way that she was going to put someone else in danger. She'd take her chances.
But before she could speak, Rafe had pre-empted her.
'Well, that's it then. Job sorted. Transfer it to me.'
'No!'
'Yes!'
Rafe grabbed her by the shoulders, made her look at him.
'Please ... Let me do this for you. I need to know I've done just one worthwhile thing with my fucking useless existence.'
Gothic Heat Page 21
