by Josie Litton
Distantly, he was aware of the farm hands pausing in their work to watch them but that was no concern of his. What they saw, what they thought, even who they were was of no consequence to him. They were like the trees along the fringe of the meadows, the neatly turned rows newly sown with seed, the clouds that promised late rain. Merely a part of his world that could be safely taken for granted and dismissed.
But not her, not that mouth, not the sweet hot suction that caused his balls to draw up and triggered a climax that left him stunned. He jerked, his cum spurting as ecstatic release held him in its savage grip. Again and again, he came thrusting into her, semen running from her greedy mouth over her chin, down her throat and breasts. She never stopped, keeping up the fierce assault on his senses until at last he had nothing left.
Somehow, he stayed on his feet but only barely. His hands shook as he stared down at her. Mechanically, he moved to put his cock back in his trousers but the motion felt as though it was happening to someone else.
The weight of his clothing was suddenly intolerable. He glanced around, spotted a nearby rock, and sat down on it. Holding out a muscular leg, he said, “You may remove my boots.”
With her back to him, she bent to her task. Diverted by the sight of her swollen glistening cunt between the cheeks of her ass, he allowed her to struggle for a few moments before he thought to offer gentlemanly assistance. Pressing the sole of his other boot firmly to her naked bottom, he said, “Pull harder.”
Her small hands were almost inadequate to the task but she complied. In short order, he stood bootless. Without taking his eyes from her, he stripped off his garments, leaving each where it fell onto the ground.
With a tight grip on the leash, allowing for no slack, he led her into the gently running river. The water was sufficiently cool on his heated skin to be bracing. She, on the other hand, appeared chilled.
He laughed, put a hand on the top of her head and pushed her under the water. She struggled, her pale limbs flailing under the sunlit streaked ripples but he held her implacably. When he hauled her up moments later, she was shaking and coughing. Her hair had come loose from its usual tight bun. It spilled wetly down her back and over her breasts. Pert red nipples peeked enticingly from between the silken strands.
Thickly, he said, “You may wash my cock and sack.”
Still gasping for air, she complied, One pale, slim hand cupped him while with the other she laved water over his genitals. Her touch was light, even delicate but his response was immediate. Despite his release of just a few minutes before, he rapidly became hard again.
That would not do. He had come out for a little stroll with his pet and a pleasant, well-earned release. She was supposed to satisfy him, not leave him burning with even more intense need.
Grasping her arm, he pulled her out of the water onto the river bank and tossed her on her back onto the mossy ground. Before she had a chance to draw breath, he was straddling her, his knees to either side of her chained breasts. Taking his cock in hand, he said, “Open your mouth.”
When she obeyed, he fed her just the tip and another inch or two beyond. He would control the pace this time and not make it easy for her. Positioned as she was, she had to strain her neck upward to take him. The hot wetness of her tongue on his underside sent a bolt of raw pleasure through him but he held on. The powerful muscles of his thighs easily kept his weight off her as he forced her to work for it, drawing out his pleasure until he could bear it no longer.
When he finally allowed himself to come, he clasped her head between his hands and rammed into her clear to the back of her throat, compelling her to take all of him as he jerked over and over, semen pouring from him.
She was choking before he was done, red-faced and gasping. Letting her go finally, he slumped beside her on his back. Looking up at the sky, he struggled to comprehend how what should have been merely a pleasant stroll had become an experience he was unlikely to ever forget.
Chapter Four
Several more days passed. The household fell into a pleasant routine. Lord Adrian rose early, worked out in his gym, caught up on correspondence from London, and met with various estate managers about such weighty matters as crop rotation, the acquisition of breeding stock and a new roof for the vicarage. Being so well occupied, he had no occasion to visit his little pet, although he did keep an eye on her from time to time in her pretty cage.
He had discovered to his surprise that she liked to read. A servant had reported it when she was seen surreptitiously perusing a copy of the Court Circular that had unaccountably been left on her breakfast tray. Being a believer in the adage that idleness is the Devil’s playground--a fact that he knew for certain first hand--and not wishing his pet to fall into misbehavior, his lordship kindly provided her with books from his library. A particular sort of book, of course. Works of a lascivious nature, explicit in both text and illustration. She seemed quite taken with them.
During all this time, he placed only one constraint on her. At hourly interludes, she was required to masturbate in front of the petcam that afforded him a view of her activities. It was cruel, of course, since she was unable to come but he insisted all the same. When work was finished, alone in the library with a sniffer of brandy, he jerked off to the sight of her pale thighs, spread wide as instructed, her fingers drawing the moisture from her cunt to spread over her glistening clit, working that tiny bundle of nerves frantically in the hope that this time, unlike every other time, he would relent and turn off the controller long enough for her to come. But, of course, he never did.
His pet remained in what he had come to think of as her natural state--wet, swollen, desperate, needy--far too enjoyable a sight to tamper with. Sated, he fell asleep to dream of her, her back arched, her body writhing, her cunt glistening, the perfect image of carnal submission.
This happy interlude ended abruptly late on a Monday morning.
“Milord,” Jameson said as he brought the post into the library. “I feel obliged to tell you that Lady Annabelle has arrived. She’s in the old wing and from the quantity of her luggage, she intends to stay awhile.”
“The devil you say! Why would she do such a thing?”
“I have no idea, milord. However, she did say that you need give her presence no notice as she understands that you have taken on a pet and are undoubtedly well occupied.”
Remembering the comments of Tony and the others in the recent shooting party, he said, “Why does she know anything at all? And what does that mean, no notice? I’m just supposed to pretend she isn’t here?”
The butler coughed discreetly. “It is quite a large estate, milord. In the normal course of events, it’s difficult to imagine why the two of you would ever cross paths.”
That was all perfectly true but it did little to assuage his lordship’s concern. Technically, under the terms of their marriage contract, Lady Annabelle Burleigh had the right to reside at Burleigh Abbey. Happily, she preferred the old wing where his lordship was more than content to leave her. Grace to God, she possessed her own townhouse in London and had never set foot in his.
Even so, her mere presence put a pall to an otherwise pleasant day. On edge after receiving such unpleasant news, Lord Adrian decided that he could do with a bit of relaxation. To that end, he summoned his pet to the library.
Upon her arrival, she appeared skittish and even a little jumpy. He supposed that could be attributed to her most recent experience in that room. But he had no intention of hurting her this time. To the contrary, he intended only to play with her.
Still, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to test the extent of her submission.
“Get in the chair,” he said.
She flinched but obeyed. He was beginning to think that she possessed some intelligence, or at least a good survival sense.
When she was positioned, her feet in the stirrups and her hands secured above her head, he opened another drawer of the small wooden cabinet and drew out a velvet case. Setting it on to
p of the cabinet, he said, “Relax, this will hardly hurt at all.”
Chuckling at her continued wariness, he drew out a large gold metal ring in the shape of a man’s clenched hands. Arranging her labia so that they were spread well apart, he placed the ring between then, then squeezed her clit until it popped through the smallish opening at the center. Swiftly, he tied the attached velvet cords around her hips and thighs, securing the ring in place, and observed his handiwork.
Her clit, squeezed so tightly, was already beginning to swell even beyond its usual state of engorgement. He smiled and gave the glistening nub a little flick. Her moan enticed him to play a bit more, stroking, pinching and raking his nails over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He laughed as she fought without success to suppress her response. Nothing could disguise the extent of her need. The copious flow of liquid from her cunt was clear evidence of it.
Returning to the velvet case, he removed a handful of jeweled studs rather like the earrings ladies favored but intended for an entirely different purpose. Slowly, with meticulous care, he took hold of her labia and pressed each stud through one of the holes, pushing the backing firmly into place. The task took some time but was well worth the effort. When he was done, only two holes in the center of her labia on either side were still empty. Her cunt was encircled by a ring of glittering gems.
“How pretty you look,” he said, studying her. The jewels accentuated the loveliness of her labia while the heavy gold ring with its clenched hands set off the perfection of her swollen clit.
While he had been doing all this, as opposed to cropping or otherwise tormenting her, his little pet had begun to relax. That changed when he turned again to the chest and withdrew a gleaming steel butt plug studded at the flat end with a large gem.
As such items went, the plug was neither particularly small nor especially large. He could have started her out with something a bit more modest in size but he saw no reason to coddle her. At the same time, the whole point was to train her ass, not abuse it. Having slid her down a little further in the chair to give easy access to her anus, he coated the heavy metal end of the plug with lube and slowly began pressing the tapered tip into her.
At the first touch, she tried to jerk away, earning a swift, hard slap to her exposed clit.
“Stay still.”
She did but little hiccups of distress continued to escape her as he slowly twisted the plug against her rosebud opening, relentlessly pressing it into her. When he encountered the expected resistance of her sphincter he said, “It will go better for you if you relax your muscles.”
He could feel her trying but it took a few minutes and some considerable insistence on his part before the plug popped through the ring of muscle and settled inside her. Even then, she continued to squirm and whimper.
“I’m told the burning sensation is temporary,” he said. “The discomfort will give way in time to an arousing sense of fullness. At any rate, you really don’t want my cock up your untrained ass.”
Sitting back on the bench, he took in the sight before him--the quivering cunt with its distended, exposed clit squeezed by the carved golden hands, the jeweled labia, and below the plug protruding from her ass. Truly, she was a glorious sight.
So much so that his cock was rock hard. He could have come right then but he had no intention of rushing. The evening was still young.
“Almost done,” he said before adding thick gold cuffs to her ankles from which slim chains dangled. Taking hold of them, he hooked each through the remaining two holes in her labia.
With that accomplished, he stood and stripped off his clothes, all the while savoring the sight of her. When he was naked, his cock fully erect and jutting upward almost as far as his navel, he beckoned to her.
“Stand up.” He grinned as she got to her feet, wiggling from the pressure on her squeezed clit, the bite of the jeweled studs in her labia, and the heavy weight of the plug in her ass. The chains were just long enough to allow her to straighten up fully.
Stepping away, he went to stand in the center of the room beneath the high, coffered ceiling.
“Come here.”
As she moved to obey, she gasped. The chains yanked on her cunt lips, already pinched by the studs. Restrained as she was, she could only take small, mincing steps, reminding him of how a geisha walked. By the time she reached him, she was flushed and breathing hard.
With a flick of his hand, he activated the control that lowered the steel frame normally concealed by the shadows at the top of the room. Dark red ropes of rough hemp dangled from it.
He had studied the erotic art of shibari while serving a few years back as cultural attaché at the British Embassy in Tokyo. That the world was effectively ruled by two island nations had provided a century and more of fodder for the intellectual class, pontificating as to how that had come to be. Lord Adrian did not concern himself so much with the “how” as to the “what now”.
So far as he--and any man of sense on either side--saw it, the British and Japanese Empires had only two possible courses: They could be enemies, tearing each other apart for some perceived advantage however slight, or they could rule the world separately but together in cordial shared regard. By immersing himself in Japanese culture, including its more exotic aspects, he liked to think that he had furthered the cause of world peace through benign domination.
Working quickly, because his endurance was reaching its limits, he wrapped the ropes around her and drew her up until she was suspended several feet above the floor. He had chosen a configuration that held her face down, her legs spread so that the chains pulled hard on her weighted cunt lips and her arms were secured behind her back. He left her breasts free, having plans for those.
She was pale, her eyes wide with apprehension as she dangled above the ground, enmeshed in the ropes, utterly helpless.
“I’ll fuck you like this,” he said pleasantly as he stroked her adorned, soaking wet cunt. “But not this evening. For now, I have something else in mind.”
Going over to the cabinet, he selected a beaded flogger and pressed the button to start the low, throbbing beat of a Japanese taiko drumming ensemble.
As the music began to build, he returned to her and passed the flogger lightly over her skin, letting her get a feel for it.
“It’s heavy,” he said, “because of the glass beads. And it will sting but the intent is arousal, not pain.”
Not that he supposed it would make much difference to her. She was already acutely aroused. Whatever pain he inflicted would have to be endured regardless of the intent behind it.
He started with her ass, striking it first lightly, then more firmly until both cheeks glowed red. Moving on to her breasts, he followed the same pattern, letting the beaded tips only brush her distended nipples before extending into longer, harder strokes that struck all over the pale globes dangling so irresistibly before him. He’d considered having her breasts enlarged before taking delivery but now he was glad that he hadn’t done so. It could always be seen to later if he chose. For now, she was just right.
When the pressure in his cock became unbearable, he dropped the flogger, scooped the dripping moisture of her cunt into his hand and rubbed it between her flogged breasts. Taking hold of them, he drew her to him and thrust his cock between the reddened, quivering globes.
The throb of the drums filled him as he began to fuck her breasts, squeezing them hard. Her head arched upward, her body straining against the ropes. He thought of the patterns of his binding being etched into her skin and came in a torrent of release, his thick cum spurting over her ringed nipples as she swayed in the dark red web of his desire.
Chapter Five
The following day, Lord Adrian decided that his pet’s anal training would have to be a priority. She’d had difficulty taking even a moderately sized butt plug. Before he would claim her ass without damage, she would have to do far better.
To that end, he had a rustic wooden bench moved into the library, about six feet l
ong and a foot wide, studded on the top with four ribbed rubber dildos of graduated length and girth. The first was fairly small; he personally would have been humiliated to possess such a member. The second was of a respectable size; the third better yet. The fourth, a jutting, truly impressive display, was almost a match for his own cock.
When he summoned her and explained the purpose of the bench, she balked. He had anticipated that response.
Calmly, he said, “It’s the bench or I tie you down here and now, and force your ass open wide enough to take me.”
She moved toward the bench.
With a smile, he said, “Bend over.”
When she had done so, her hands braced against the edge of the bench and her delectable ass in the air, he parted her cheeks and dribbled lube down over her anus, observing as he did the results of his recent instructions. He had increased her masturbation regimen, requiring her to tease herself no less than a dozen times a day with the result that her cunt was delightfully swollen and wet. So much so that he had some difficulty keeping his mind on the matter at hand.
With an effort, he finished the task of preparing her, wiped his hands, and directed his pet to straddle the bench. Reluctantly, she moved into position above the smallest cock.
“The idea,” he offered helpfully, “is to lower yourself on to it slowly, inch by inch, until it’s fully seated up your ass. Then you will rise and descend, mimicking the action of a cock being thrust in and out of you.”
Ten minutes later, the first cock was barely half way in. Her face was flushed and her thighs trembled with the strain of her effort.
“For heaven’s sake,” he said, looking up from the papers he had been perusing. “Is this going to take all day?”
Not that he would mind entirely. The sight of her endeavors was keeping him pleasantly diverted. Not even the latest report from the Trade Ministry was as tedious as usual.
“Squat down,” he advised. “Take it all in one nice, deep thrust.”
