by Golden Angel
A strange emotion welled inside of him, one which he was not familiar with, but it was accompanied by an all-too-familiar desire. The need to sink inside her, to claim her, to ravage her was growing with every passing second, but there were still several hours before the hell would close down. He could retire to his room, but after spending last night away from his post, he was reluctant to leave the room without his presence for a second night. Maybe it would make no difference, but maybe it would. Henry had always been a bit rigid about controlling every aspect of the club; that he had even spent one night away by choice was shocking enough. His constitution would not allow for a second.
But his growing desire would not give him a moment’s peace either.
Looking at his little pet again, Henry cocked his head. He did not want to overwhelm her sensibilities too quickly, but... from the chaise, she was not visible to the floor.
“Butch. Frank. Go circulate on the floor.” He barked out the order, not even looking to see if they complied before taking two long strides to the chaise. Delilah barely stirred when the curtains rustled, announcing Butch and Frank’s quiet departure.
Sitting down on the edge of the chaise, Henry put his hand on her leg, fingers curving around to the soft skin on the back of her thigh. She sighed in her slumber, shifting slightly, and Henry’s hand glided upward, watching her face while his fingers caressed their way up to the curve of her arse. The fur of her tail tickled the back of his hand, hardening his cock even further, knowing she was wearing it for him. Readying herself for him. Her lips parted when his hand reached the base of the plug, the hard rubber tucked firmly into her bottom. Gripping the tail, he twisted it, and she moaned, her eyes flying open at the sensation.
“Wha…?! Oh!” Gasping, her body quivered, uncurling as he tugged and twisted the tail, stimulating her sensitive nerves. His cock was rock hard, pressing against his trousers, and with his free hand, he reached into his pocket to fetch the little vial of oil he’d been carrying all day.
He’d told himself it was for the plug, but perhaps in the back of his mind, he’d known he would not be able to wait until the evening was over to finish his conquest of her body.
The Lady
The strange sensation of something moving there was what fully woke her.
The expression on Henry’s face as he watched her made her whimper, but she was helpless to resist whatever he wanted to do to her. The sounds of so many other people in the room kept her quiet, and she prayed no one looked up, although she did not think they would be able to see anything. Sneaking a peek, to her relief, she could see his two men were gone from the balcony.
“On all fours, pet,” he said. Releasing the tail, he took hold of her hips to arrange her to his liking. On all fours, just as he’d said, with her face only inches away from the upright rest on the chaise and her bottom facing him. The shirt she was wearing was pushed up above her hips, leaving her bare from the waist down. The tail was gently withdrawn, and she sighed with relief as it left her. She felt strangely empty without it, having become accustomed to the feeling of fullness, which was a disconcerting revelation. She did not want it to feel more natural than being without.
“Good girl, now hold still.” Henry’s voice was low, loud enough for her to hear, but certainly not loud enough for anyone not on the balcony to even know he had spoken.
She tensed as something prodded her bottom hole. It was not the tail, of that she was sure. This was softer, hotter, albeit just as slick as the tail had been. She groaned as it pushed into her newly stretched entrance, panting as the tight ring of muscle was stretched much wider than it had been before. At least, it felt much wider. She was fairly certain he was replacing her tail with his cock, which had not looked all that much thicker than the widest part of the tail plug, but it certainly felt as though it was.
Hands gripped her hips, holding her in place, and he thrust forward.
Unlike the tail, his cock did not have a convenient indent for her body to settle into, which meant she remained stretched uncomfortably wide as his long shaft sank into her. She moaned, shuddering at the hot invasion, which was even more frighteningly intimate than anything else he had done to her. It was a base, depraved act, mortifying to even contemplate, and her inability to turn him away, to deny him even this most secret part of her body, made her feel completely subjugated.
It hurt as he delved deeper, a throbbing ache that coiled in her belly, her tired muscles clenching in an attempt to force his cock back out of her, which only increased his pleasure if his groans were anything to go by. Delilah leaned forward, trying to get away, pressing her face against the chaise and crying out as his groin came to rest against the curves of her cheeks. As before, the discomfort did nothing to quell her own increasing need, the empty ache inside of her pussy, or the tingling itch growing at the apex of her thighs.
His body pressed more fully against hers, and his hand slipped from her hip to her mound, fingers sliding through the curls until he found the swollen nub of her clit. She cried out, bucking beneath him, then shuddered as his cock managed to wedge even deeper inside of her forbidden channel. Fingers swirled, rubbing her cream over the little nubbin, stoking the fires of her need as he began to rock back and forth, riding her with short, hard strokes that burned in more ways than one. The stinging pain swirled with her pleasure, a hot mix of exquisite chaos that rocked her senses and sent her reeling.
“Oh, no...” She murmured the words into the chaise, feeling the swell of ecstasy rising inside of her. She could not possibly enjoy this... this perversion to such an extent. Could not possibly find her climax while he took her in such a wicked manner.
Her body did not care what her mind was telling her as his fingers stroked and caressed in just the right manner. His cock slid back and forth in her tight channel, the friction becoming more intense as her body automatically pushed back against his thrusts, her muscles clenching and squeezing his marauding cock.
The ecstasy rose up and over her, submerging her in hot bliss, her pleasure nub buzzing and humming under the expert manipulation of his fingers. She cried out, digging her fingers into the fabric of the chaise, pressing her face into it so no one below would be able to hear her rapture.
Her humiliation.
The Tramp
Sweet juices soaked his fingers as his little pet came, impaled with his cock up her sweet arse. The grip of her muscles was like a vise, massaging the length of his rod. The tight ring of her entrance was smooth and paler than the rest of her skin, stretched wide to accommodate him. Now that she had reached her pleasure, he pulled his fingers away from her pussy, so he could fully enjoy the sight of his cock buried in her bowels—the way her cheeks rippled when he slammed against them—and the small glimpses of the room below them, feeding into the depravity of her deflowering. No one was looking up, but Henry could still see them, knew they were there... knew none of them were aware he was balls deep in the arse of a former debutante.
His lust roared up, her muffled moans and pants urging him onward as he rutted her.
Gripping her hips tighter, he pulled her to him, burying his full length inside her clenching arse. He groaned, feeling her arse sucking and pulling at his cock with her shuddering muscles. Hot ecstasy boiled up, shooting through him, and throbbing along the length of his cock. He emptied himself, filling her with long spurts of hot liquid pleasure until he was wrung completely dry. Panting, he almost fell forward atop her but put one hand out to catch himself with the chaise, so he did not crush her.
She slumped beneath him, still shuddering from the intensity of being so thoroughly buggered. Henry leaned forward to kiss the back of her neck and scraped his teeth along the delicate skin, enjoying the way her ass clenched around his shrinking cock and pulling a few more shudders of pleasure from him.
“Good girl,” he murmured into her hair.
Downstairs, a shout of celebration rang out. Someone had won big at one of the tables downstairs. Whether they kept
their new fortune, time would tell, but Henry knew he intended to keep his.
10
The Lady
To her immense relief, Henry did not insist on putting her tail in her bottom the next day.
He did wake her by pulling her head down to his cock and using her sleepy mouth for his pleasure, while his fingers pumped in and out of her pussy and bottom, but Delilah rather enjoyed that, despite the lingering soreness from the prior day’s activities. That he did not bring her to completion made her antsy, but she quickly realized he’d done so on purpose when he put the leash on her collar without dressing her, an almost manic gleam in his eye.
“Oh, no...” she whispered, not daring to speak the words any louder.
“Oh, yes,” he said firmly, stepping forward, so he loomed over her. “You can be led to my office with a bright red arse, or you can follow me to my office and receive a treat for being a good girl. It’s up to you.”
The itch between her legs warred with her sense of modesty, and with the threat of a spanking, her desire tipped the scales. The two tails her hair was in did not help her hide her face, but she kept her head ducked as they exited his room, then nearly died of shame when she realized Butch and Frank were waiting for them outside. She peeked to know they both gave her nude form a quick perusal, but to her everlasting relief, neither of them made a comment. If they had, she was fairly certain she would have expired on the spot.
Their silence gave her a tiny slice of courage, which allowed her to put one foot in front of the other when Henry tugged on her leash. If she could have made the walk with her eyes closed, she would have, but she just stared at the floor. Every sound, every creak of the floorboards made her want to jump and see if someone else was approaching, but thankfully no one was.
“Good pet.” Henry patted her bottom fondly when they reached his office. To her relief, Butch and Frank remained outside. Mostly relief. There was a small, very small part of her that quietly wondered what it might be like to have them watch what Henry was going to do to her.
How low she’d fallen. That she could even conceive of such a thing was shocking. That she felt a frission of interest at the mad idea... She did not know to reconcile that, so she pushed it aside, refusing to think about it.
Thankfully, Henry was ready to distract her. Leading her to his desk, he surprised her by taking her by the waist and lifting her up, so she was seated atop it with him standing between her legs. Leaning down, he kissed her full on the mouth. Some of her tension melted away, especially when his hands moved to her breasts and began to knead the soft mounds, his thumbs sweeping over her hardened nipples, stimulating the little buds. Delilah moaned, wriggling, trying to get closer to him, wanting more.
His lips moved away from hers, traveling down her neck, giving each hard nipple a quick suck and nip before pressing her to lie back on his desk. She heard the scrape of his chair as he settled between her thighs, his shoulders taking the weight of her legs, keeping them spread wide. His tongue swiped up the center of her pussy, making her cry out as pleasure shot through her, hot, needy, and demanding. Reaching down, her fingers threaded through his hair, holding on as he sucked and nibbled on her sensitive parts. Moving her hips, she wantonly rubbed herself against his mouth and tongue, the demands of her body overpowering any sense of decorum she still possessed.
“Oh, please...” she begged, panting. “Please, please, please...”
His mouth closed around her clit, sucking hard, and sent her flying. The toe-curling sensation was so intense, she practically levitated on his desk, pure ecstasy billowing through her. It felt so good and went on and on and on until she was begging him to stop. The pleasure had become almost painful, and she couldn’t take one more wave of it. Lifting his head, he pulled her off the desk and onto his lap, cuddling her and stroking her while she laid limp and satiated.
When he put her down on the floor, letting her explore the room again, she started to get to her feet when he spoke again.
“No, pet. Crawl.”
Delilah blinked at him in confusion. “Crawl?”
Leaning over, he gave her one short, sharp slap on her bottom, a stinging swat that made her yelp in surprise.
“Crawl, like a good pet,” he said, giving her an admonishing look. “And call me Master when you address me.”
Maybe it was how wrung out she was, maybe it was just how thoroughly he’d subjugated her, or maybe it was because it was starting to feel right... but Delilah did not argue and quietly dropped to all fours beside him.
“Yes, Master.”
The Tramp
Three days.
Just three short days and his sweet girl had gone from mistreated debutante to pampered pet. His only pet. Reassuring her when she’d asked about other pets—other women—had amused him greatly.
Naked except for the padding on her hands and knees, tail swishing against the backs of her thighs, Delilah crawled happily beside him down the hall to his balcony.
Of course, the past three days had included quite a bit of training and a few spankings when she became rebellious. Today, though, she was behaving perfectly. No balking at crawling, no whining when she realized someone new had seen her naked, and no begging to go without her tail, which she had done the day before. She was obviously in high spirits today. Perhaps the previous night’s thorough fucking had improved her mood—certainly, the screaming orgasm she’d had last night when he took her from behind, tugging on her tail the whole time, should have had an effect. Henry was feeling rather chipper, as well.
Unfortunately, that all ended when Butch appeared on the balcony with his evening report, just before midnight.
“They say the lady done run away,” Butch said, with a nod toward Delilah as if there were any question who he was talking about. She pressed herself against Henry’s leg, seeking comfort, and he rested his hand atop her head, stroking her soft hair with soothing fingers. “The Runners are lookin’ for her and the Felton liveries. ‘Course, most of the liveries ain’t lookin’ too hard.” His expression turned a little smug. Whatever he’d said to the man who had initially followed Delilah into the Warren must have made an impression.
Technically, of course, she had run away. The Runners would not care that Lady Felton had been abusing her. If they found her, they would return her to Felton House, collect their reward, and likely never think on it again. Henry, however, was not at all interested in giving her up.
“Thank you, Butch.” The man rightly read the dismissal in Henry’s tone and made himself scarce.
His pet was trembling so hard, it was making his leg shake, and Henry turned his attention down to her. The expression on her face was haunted, full of despair and resignation.
“They’re going to find me,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “They’re going to find me. They’re going to make me go back. They’re going to—”
He cut her off by the simple expedient of hauling her up off of the floor and bending her over toward the balcony. Her hands flung out to catch herself, leaving her bent at the waist.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
The hard, swift slaps against her arse did what they were meant to do—shocked her right out of her growing panic. Her high screech caused silence to fall over the room, but only for a moment before laughter rang out, and conversation resumed. Henry could hear multiple voices saying something about “the Tramp’s Lady” as they laughed. Ignoring them, Henry pulled her back toward him, spinning her around, so he could catch her chin with one hand, holding her fast about the waist with the other. Her eyes were still wide and a little wild, her cheeks flushed, but the dazed, panicked look in them had receded.
“You are mine,” he said low, firm, so there was no question. “I will keep you safe.”
There was still a touch of uncertainty hanging about her, but she nodded, the tension slowly leaking from her body. Taking her mouth in a kiss, Henry curved his hand around her neck, kissing her hard and deep.
B
elow them, cheers began to spring up as some of the men on the floor looked up to see them.
With a squeak, Delilah pulled away, dropping to all fours to hide her naked body from the spectators. Henry chuckled, although he did not miss the way her thighs pressed together. She squirmed, clearly aroused and not just because of his kiss or the spanking. While she fought against it, his little pet liked to be shown off, to be watched. Whether she’d ever be able to admit it, he did not know.
The Lady
Being the Tramp’s pet, his lady, gave Delilah a comfort she could have never imagined.
Of course, even with Lady Felton sending Bow Street after her, being found was highly unlikely. Who would believe the debutante, Lady Delilah Darling, was the Tramp’s Lady? Who would believe a woman of good society would be naked on a balcony above a gambling hell every evening? The more she thought about it, the more relieved she became. It had been days, and more than one gentleman below had seen her face and not recognized her, even though she knew them. Lady Felton had even assisted her—with the delay in admitting Delilah’s absence, the Tramp’s Lady had appeared in the Warren before most of the ton even knew Lady Delilah Darling was missing.
That Henry preferred to keep her on her hands and knees, crawling alongside him, brought her comfort, no matter how mortifying it had been at first. Now, it was a shield, as was her nudity.
Her face was more easily obscured when she was on all fours.
Although, even when she was not, no one looked at her face.
If only she could stop the tingles of excitement that trickled over her when she saw them looking at the rest of her, she would feel nothing but relief. There was still some part of her, fighting her reactions to being so exposed, even though no one on the staff treated her with anything but respect.
