Sophie's Voice

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by HELEN HARDT


  “Of course, my dear. Anything.”

  “Would you spank my bottom? Percy already gave me a flogging, but I want a woman’s touch.”

  “Well of course, my dear Prissy. Would you like me to use an implement, or is my hand what you are requiring?”

  “Actually, I would like you to sit right here on the chaise longue. I will lie over your lap, and I would like you to spank me with your bare hand.”

  Poppea patted her lap. “As you wish, my dear.”

  Prissy’s nipples hardened and her cunt throbbed as she lay across Poppea’s firm thighs.

  Poppea gently stroked her arse cheeks. “Has my Prissy been a bad girl today? Has she been naughty?”

  Smack! Poppea’s palm came down on Prissy’s arse.

  “Oh, Poppea, just like that. I fear I’ve been a naughty, naughty girl.”

  “Then you shall be punished.”

  The sting permeated through Prissy’s body, changing into pleasure that tingled from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes.

  “More, more, Poppea!”

  Five more smacks, and Prissy was near another climax. She maneuvered her fingers underneath her, found her clitoris, and began rubbing the moist bud.

  “Touching yourself?” Poppea smirked. “That is a no-no, my dear. You need more punishment.”

  Oh, yes, more punishment. Just what she needed. She smiled into the chaise longue. “Yes, yes, I’ve been a very bad girl, Poppea.”

  “Then you need to be spanked.”

  One more smack, and Prissy shattered against Poppea’s thighs.

  “Yes, yes, dear Prissy, come for me.” Poppea smacked her again. “Come all over me.”

  When Prissy had recovered from her climax, she sat up, her bum sore. “Thank you, Poppea dear. I needed that badly. Such a superb spanking.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Poppea’s.

  Poppea returned the kiss, their tongues tangling and dueling. Such lovely lips Poppea had. They eased back, giving each other soft pecks.

  Poppea was splendid to kiss, and Prissy’s pussy began moistening once more.

  When they finally broke the kiss, Prissy looked into Poppea’s radiant blue eyes. “Well, my dear, I see our frolic has only just begun.” Prissy leaned back on the chaise longue and spread her legs. “And now, Poppea, if you don’t mind, there’s nothing I like better after a spanking than a good gamahuching.”

  Act II

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sophie splashed cold water over her face from the basin in the ladies’ dressing room at the theatre. She had just ended her third day of grueling rehearsal, along with two evening voice lessons with Dame Helga. Tonight, after a quick supper here at the theatre that Cook had packed her this morning, she was to have her first private instruction with Zach.

  Yet another reason existed for the cold splashing of water. Sophie couldn’t get the erotic story of Lord and Lady Peacock and their house party out of her mind. Clearly, the reason Ally had given it to her was to show her that some people enjoyed spanking play as part of their sexual experience. Perhaps Ally wanted her to think it was normal. But was it also normal to frolic and have relations with people other than one’s own spouse? If it was all done with each other’s consent, perhaps it was normal. What was normal, anyway? Normal for one person might be completely abnormal for another. Lord, the philosophy alone was enough to boggle one’s mind.

  Sophie’s own bum ached for a good spanking. Of course, right now was not the time. She toweled her face dry and looked around the dressing room.

  The other ladies were getting ready to leave for the evening. They hadn’t made an effort to be overly friendly with Sophie. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she was a lady of the peerage and they were all common folk. Or perhaps it was Sophie’s imagination. As timid as she was, she didn’t go out of her way to be friendly to them either. Perhaps she should try.

  She walked toward two of the girls in the chorus. “I was just wondering… Are you ladies hungry? Cook prepared me a delicious dinner in this basket, but he always gives me way too much. I would be…most happy to share it with you.”

  One of the women, Mary, rolled her eyes. “Really, my lady, we can see to our own meals.”

  Sophie’s heart fell. She truly was just trying to be friendly.

  “Oh, Mary,” the other girl, Elizabeth, said, “she is kind to offer to share her repast with us. I, for one, appreciate the thought, Lady Sophie.”

  Sophie smiled. “Not at all. And please, call me Sophie.” She opened the basket. Inside was a feast of cold fried chicken, fresh fruit, a French baguette, and a canteen of watered-down wine. “Do help yourself.”

  Elizabeth grabbed a chicken drumstick and took a bite. “Delicious! Do you eat this well all the time?”

  “The Brighton chef is quite a talent. We are very well fed.”

  “Well, it must be nice to be fed so well all the time,” Mary said, raising her eyebrows.

  “Mary, really…” Elizabeth said. “You ought to try the chicken. It’s scrumptious.”

  Sophie fumed. Here she was, trying to be nice, but Mary would not let her. And unbeknownst to Mary, Sophie knew well the torture of hunger. “You are both welcome to as much food out of my basket as you care to eat. I am happy to share what I now have in abundance. It may interest you to know, however, that my father squandered what little money his estate had on gambling and the drink. My mother, sister, and I lived in near poverty until his death. So I know what it is like not to eat so well on a regular basis.”

  Sophie turned, leaving her basket open. She was no longer hungry. She headed to Zach’s office for her private voice instruction. She was early since she hadn’t finished the dinner hour. She would wait until Zach got there.

  She was surprised when she saw Zach sitting at his desk. “I’m so sorry I didn’t knock. I just assumed you would be out at dinner since I was so early.”

  “No, no. I find myself not very hungry these days. Since you’re here, we may as well begin.”

  Zach seemed distant, same as he had been since he left Sophie’s home the afternoon when the earl had refused his suit for Sophie. He rose from behind his desk, walked to the pianoforte in the corner, and sat down on the bench. He opened his score to one of Sophie’s songs. “Let’s start at the beginning of this one and see what you’ve learned from Dame Helga this week.”

  Zach started to play, and on cue, Sophie began singing.

  After a couple of lines, Zach stopped her. “Your jaw is tight. I can see how tense you are. You need to keep your facial muscles relaxed. Too much tension in your throat will affect your voice.”

  Dame Helga had told her much the same. However, right now, Sophie was little tense after her altercation with Mary and Elizabeth. She said only, “Thank you, Zach. I will try.”

  Zach began playing at the beginning, and Sophie came in on her cue. She tried to be aware of her facial muscles and consciously relax them. After a few more bars, Zach stopped.

  “You’re still tense, Sophie. You’ve untightened your jaw a bit, but now your shoulders are tense. I can see it in how you’re standing.” He rose from the bench and stood, facing her. He placed both hands on her cheeks and began massaging her jaw. “Relax. This will help. I promise. When you are relaxed, your vocal cords will be relaxed, and they will be able to work better and produce finer sound. Just as you must tune a pianoforte or any other instrument, so must you care for your voice. Your voice is your instrument, Sophie. You must take great care with it.”

  His fingers on her face felt heavenly. Sophie found her eyes closing as he massaged down the tight corded muscle of her neck and onto her shoulders.

  “So tense. You need to relax, sweet.” He continued manipulating her upper arms and then back up to her shoulders and neck. “My God, you’re so lovely. I want so much to kiss you right now.”

  Sophie popped open her eyes. “Please.”

  Zach’s lips came down on hers gently. The kiss was slow and deliberate at
first, so different from their previous raw and passionate kisses. It held a bit of sadness. Perhaps Zach truly wanted to court her and was just as disappointed as she that the earl said no. They continued the kiss, devouring each other gently, their desire building.

  Sophie brazenly probed her tongue into Zach’s mouth and touched his. They dueled and swirled together, the kiss gaining momentum, passion. Yes, this was the kiss she had been waiting for, the kiss that would help her relax.

  When Zach finally broke the kiss and drew in a deep breath, he moved Sophie to the divan on the far wall of his office and gently laid her down, her neck and shoulders propped up on the arm of the divan. Slowly, he stroked one finger from her temple down her cheek to her chin. Sophie’s skin tingled in the wake of his touch. Zach sat on the edge of the couch and leaned toward her, raining tiny wet kisses on her cheek and neck. He brushed a strand of fallen hair behind her ear and then kissed her jaw, trailing his tongue along her outer ear and gently plunging it inside. With his other hand, he slid his fingers from her forehead down the bridge of her nose, tracing every line of her face, down to her lips. Instinctively, she puckered her lips and kissed his fingers as they traced the contours of her chin. He followed the trail down to her chest and over the swells of her breasts still tight within her corset, her nipples hard as pebbles.

  “So very beautiful, Sophie.” He pulled her upward and unfastened the back of her dress, slid it over her shoulders and her waist, discarding it. While she was still sitting forward, he gently unlaced her corset. He traveled down her body and removed her shoes and stockings. He pushed her back down gently, and his fingers continued their quest. She was clothed only in her lacy chemise and her drawers. He glided over the gentle swell of her breasts and circled one nipple. It beaded beneath his touch. He flicked and tugged at it through the flimsy fabric. He then meandered downward to her navel and swirled a finger softly around it, delving in and out of the sensitive area.

  Sophie squirmed under his gentle ministrations, her core vibrating. She worried her feet together and clenched her hands into fists. God, what he did to her!

  Without probing into her drawers, Zach followed the lines of her legs down to her feet, where he caressed her toes, his touch a whisper against the sensitive skin. Slowly, he drew back upward, unlacing her drawers when he got to the apex between her thighs. He slid her drawers over her hips, discarding them, and then he pushed her chemise upward, baring her breasts.

  “Sophie, how I’ve missed you.” He leaned down and took a nipple between his lips.

  Sophie gasped, her body blazing. She had missed him too.

  Yes, she wanted the conventional courtship, but barring that, this was not something she could leave behind. She wanted to experience everything with Zach—the things she thought she would never get to experience. Perhaps it wouldn’t lead to marriage, but she couldn’t make herself regret any of it.

  Zach sucked on one nipple and toyed with the other with his fingers, gently pulling and tugging, making Sophie squirm. Moisture trickled between her legs, and soon her thighs were damp with her own essence.

  Zach let the nipple drop from his mouth with a soft pop. He inhaled. “God, Sophie, I can smell you. You’re so ready for me, so wet for me.” He traced his finger over the mound of her breast and down her abdomen to the thick blond bush in between her legs. “Yes. So wet.”

  “Put your finger in me, Zach. Like you did that first time. I need to feel part of you inside me.”

  Without further urging, Zach breached her, gently massaging the inside of her walls. Sophie sighed, her hips moving involuntarily, matching the rhythm of Zach’s finger. In a moment, he added another, stretching her. The slow tempo of his fingers combined with the exquisite stretch hurled Sophie toward the precipice.

  “Oh, Zach, it feels so good.” She writhed. She knew what she wanted, but she didn’t have a clue how to ask for it.

  He continued his assault inside her pussy, finding a spot that drove her not just toward but over the precipice. Her climax came with a jolt, shattering her, leaving her spent but still wanting more.

  She longed to turn over, to have Zach’s hand come down on her buttocks as it had before. But how could she tell him?

  “Zach…”

  “Yes, sweet?”

  “I want… I need…”

  “Anything, sweet.”

  She turned over, lying stomach down on the soft divan. “Your fingers, back inside me…”

  He obliged, inserting one and then two fingers back into her wetness. “Like this, my love?”

  “Oh, yes,” Sophie purred into the pillow. “And now…”

  Smack! His palm came down on her bare bottom, catapulting her into another mind-bending climax.

  “Sophie, your bum is so flawless. Especially when it’s this beautiful shade of red.”

  Pleasure-pain. Sophie couldn’t get enough of it. Still, she wondered why she craved such. She would figure it out someday, but for now, all she wanted was the blissful torment that consumed her.

  His palm came down on her arse again, and then again. As the sting metamorphosed into pleasure, she shattered again, all the time his fingers pumping in and out of her wet channel.

  “My God,” she said. “I can’t even believe…how much I…”

  Zach didn’t pressure her to finish her thought. Instead, he smacked her once more, slightly harder this time, and drove into her pussy with his fingers so forcefully that he unearthed her most explosive climax yet. She melted into the hunter-green brocade divan, the physical, emotional, and spiritual kaleidoscoping together into one euphoric and satisfying thrill.

  Still fully clothed, Zach leaned down and slid over her back, the tweed of his jacket scratching her. “You’re so exquisite. I must have you this night, Sophie. Please.”

  He meant the act, of course. Sophie had known it would come to this if she continued down this path, and she was not sorry that it had. She wanted to experience what Ally had experienced, and she wanted it with Zach, whether he was officially courting her or not.

  “Come sit on my lap,” Zach said.

  Sophie did as he bid, rising, taking her place upon him, the wool of his trousers scratching her sore bottom in a delicious way. She placed her hand on his cheek and then moved to the back of his neck, toying with his auburn waves. Brazenly, she lowered her mouth to his and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, still cupping his cheeks.

  “Loosen my cravat, Sophie,” Zach said.

  She did so and then drew her hand down, the linen of his shirt soft against her fingers. And underneath the linen, his hard chest beckoned. Still, she continued downward until she grasped the bulge in his trousers.

  “Oh my God,” he groaned.

  She brought her hands back up to his face to kiss him again. After a few moments of feverish kisses, he ripped his mouth from hers and kissed her neck, her shoulders, the tops of her breasts, squeezing them.

  “Now my shirt, Sophie. Please.”

  With longing and desire, Sophie kissed him again and began unbuttoning his shirt. Zach threaded his fingers through her hair, unfastening it from its tight coiffure. Sophie parted the two sides of Zach’s shirt, exposing his manly chest. Again she kissed him, their lips sliding together, their tongues touching. She caressed his hard shoulders, his skin warm beneath her fingertips. She pressed her chest to his and her mouth to his neck, raining tiny kisses over the corded muscle, and then she slid down, kissing his chest, his abdomen, the muscle hard and warm under her lips.

  She smiled against his groin. She knew what he wanted. She was frightened, to be sure, but she wanted to give him everything. She crept back up again and kissed him.

  Their lips mashed together, and they both gave in to their frenzied passion. Sophie was on fire, her nipples so hard she knew she must be poking him. She gathered all her courage, broke the kiss, and licked down his abdomen again. Slowly, she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his trousers. His bulge beckoned to her. She lowered her mouth and kissed his e
rection through his drawers.

  He jerked. “Yes, sweet. God.”

  His trousers and drawers still around his hips, she gathered her bravery and pulled out his cock. He grabbed the wrist of her other hand and brought her fingers to his mouth, sucking on them gently. The sweet suction of his mouth made her pussy throb.

  Sophie pulled off his boots and his trousers and then slid up his body again and gave him a kiss on the mouth.

  “My God, Sophie. What you do to me,” Zach rasped.

  Such power! She returned to his cock. She had seen it before, but that did not make it any less magnificent. She started with tiny kisses to his bollocks, and then she slid her tongue up the entire length. She twirled around the head of his cock, licking off the drop of fluid emerging. Mmm, salty, musky.

  Zach threaded his fingers in her hair and used his other hand to clutch hers. Sophie, gaining more courage, wrapped one fist around his cock and continued sucking. She withdrew her mouth from his cock for a moment and used her hand to find his rhythm as she kissed up his abdomen to his lips again.

  Then back to his cock. She sucked it until he stopped her, gripping her shoulders and bringing her to his mouth for a kiss.

  “You have to stop, love. If you don’t, I won’t get inside you this night. And God, I need to be inside you.”

  Zach helped her to her feet. He was still sitting on the divan, and he kissed the side of her waist, the area right below her breasts, sending shivers across her body. He nipped at a nipple, and her skin blazed further.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said. He pulled to his feet and switched positions with her, setting her down on the divan. He crouched between her legs and took another turgid nipple into his mouth. He sucked, nibbled, and then bit down hard.

  Sophie gasped. Pleasure-pain, like the spanking—but different.

  Her tummy churned, her pulse racing. The pain in her nipple traveled to her pussy and made her gush.

  He kissed down her abdomen to the moist spot between her legs. He buried his face in her bush of curls and inhaled. Then he moved down farther, licking her thigh, kissing her knee, her calf. He ran his tongue along the instep of her foot to her toes and sucked on them, massaging the ball of her foot with his fingers.

 

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