Forbidden Reading

by Lisette Ashton

  Justine didn’t hesitate. She wasn’t sure how close she had come to unfailing obedience but she no longer showed any vacillation when she was given a command. Moving her face forward, extending her tongue to the musky haven of Mrs Weiss’s sex, she eagerly lapped the dewy folds of the woman’s sex.

  The syrupy flavour was cloying and brought tears to her eyes. As well as making her think of the intimacies she had enjoyed with the penitent, it also served to remind her that the pliant blonde was no longer in her life. Sniffing back the notion of crying, concentrating on sliding her tongue against the wet folds of flesh, she heard the woman above her sigh contentedly. The sound encouraged Justine to lap at the woman’s clitoris and try to tease her tongue deep into the velvety folds of her hole. Her posture was awkward; the stone floor was harsh against her knees; the position meant her backside was stretched and reminded her of every lingering ache; and her neck was uncomfortable as she strained to lap at Mrs Weiss’s sex. But Justine couldn’t deny that the humiliation aroused her.

  Her chin was quickly daubed with a lather of the woman’s musk. Burying her nose against the labia as she caught her breath, Justine was delighted to hear Mrs Weiss groan with obvious pleasure. She sensed a wave of joy flowing through the woman and then returned her tongue quickly to its chore.

  The hand at her hair gripped tighter. Her face was tugged into the woman’s cleft as Mrs Weiss thrust her pelvis forward. Guessing that she had to penetrate, not sure why the idea filled her with such a rush of dark need, Justine delivered a long deep kiss to the woman’s sex. She pushed her lips close against the inner labia and thrust her tongue into the tight warmth of Mrs Weiss’s hole.

  The muscle convulsed around her.

  As Justine continued to make her kiss as deep as possible, Mrs Weiss pulled harder on her hair and grunted her way through a bitter climax. Her pelvis bucked repeatedly forward, bashing against Justine’s face and her groin exploded with a rush of wetness. Justine almost choked on the unexpected flow and made a concerted effort to pull herself free. Miserably, as Mrs Weiss continued to hold her head against her sex, Justine realised there would be no opportunity to escape until her employer decided. She was forced to remain on her knees, still lapping at the dewy labia, until the woman grunted and pushed her head away.

  ‘You were struggling against me,’ Mrs Weiss complained.

  Justine wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and apologised. From the corner of her eye she noticed Mrs Weiss fasten her robe and then stagger to retrieve her flail from the stone seat. She cringed when she saw the merciless smile that filled Mrs Weiss’s face as she clutched the small whip.

  ‘You were struggling against me,’ Mrs Weiss repeated. ‘And that is unforgivable.’

  Justine lowered her head and mumbled an apology. A knot of frustration lingered in her loins but she knew it would not be sated until the prospect either entertained Mrs Weiss or served her purpose. She was appalled to acknowledge the fact that the fury of the woman above her added to her excitement. It came as no surprise when the knotted tips of the flail struck her backside.

  Unable to stop herself, Justine sobbed in protest. ‘Do you have to go so hard on me?’ she moaned. ‘I’m doing this for you. Can’t you show me a little leniency?’

  The six harsh blows that followed seemed to answer her question. They landed in swift succession and scorched a searing heat through the punished flesh of Justine’s buttocks. She realised Mrs Weiss wasn’t taking the time deliberately to mark the flesh that was already striped but that didn’t stop some of the lashes from kissing sharply against the raised weals. By the time the last shot had landed Justine realised she had squeezed tears from the corners of her eyes.

  ‘I have you for the remainder of the day,’ Mrs Weiss growled. ‘And I have no intention of showing you any leniency.’

  Justine said nothing.

  Mr Weiss chuckled. ‘Admittedly I’m going to give you my approval. But I’m going to make sure you earn it too.’ She fell silent for a moment and it wasn’t until Justine heard the sound of a lighter sparking a flame that she realised the woman was having another cigarette. The noxious scent of tobacco fumes filled the donjon and reminded Justine that she could still taste the flavour of Mrs Weiss’s sex in her mouth and nostrils.

  ‘I’m being harsh with you for two reasons,’ Mrs Weiss explained. ‘The first is because I don’t know how my assistant might report these matters to Marais.’ The tobacco smoke thickened her words. ‘My second reason is more important though because that’s the one that’s really driving me to hurt you.’

  Justine raised her gaze to study the woman.

  ‘I want to get the full benefits of seeing you suffer underneath me.’

  ‘You’re a cruel bitch,’ Justine mumbled.

  The flail struck hard against her rear.

  Justine howled.

  ‘You don’t have any idea how cruel I can be,’ Mrs Weiss sneered. Her nasty laughter trailed off as she slashed three more blows from the whip across Justine’s bare backside. ‘You haven’t got a clue about how cruel I can be. But, before the day is over, I’m going to make sure you have a better idea.’

  Thirteen

  They both glanced up when they heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

  ‘That’s my assistant coming back,’ Mrs Weiss growled. She pushed her face close to Justine’s, lowered her voice to a whisper and said, ‘When he gets here, I’m going to give you some more rough treatment. If it gets to be more than you can stand: tell me you want more.’

  ‘That makes sense,’ Justine grunted.

  Even as she was saying the words, Justine knew it was a mistake. Mrs Weiss’s hand slapped against her cheek and delivered a stinging blow that almost pushed her to the floor. Stunned by the viciousness, Justine glared at her.

  ‘Don’t backchat,’ Mrs Weiss hissed absently. ‘And think sensibly for once in your fucking life: it makes perfect sense.’

  Justine continued to glare. Because the woman was now standing and draped in her robe, while she remained naked and cowering at her feet, the feeling of vulnerability was stronger than ever. Justine supposed it was that sensation that made her lower her gaze as though the argument was already lost. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from mumbling a servile apology.

  ‘I’ll play the role of the vindictive tormentor,’ Mrs Weiss explained. She kept her voice to a hiss and spoke with a quick urgency as the approaching footsteps drew nearer. ‘When the torment gets too much for you, you must ask me to hurt you more. I’ll refuse to give you what you’re asking for. That way you won’t have to endure any further pain; my assistant will believe you’ve been left frustrated; but he’ll still think you have an appetite for suffering. Does that make sense?’

  Still smarting from the blow, but aware the footsteps were almost at the bottom of the donjon stairs, Justine nodded gruff acceptance. She wanted to ask why the assistant’s opinion mattered so much but she sensed the answer would involve an elaborate explanation about Mrs Weiss’s place within The Society. Certain there was no time for such an exchange, and not sure she wanted the details, Justine said, ‘I guess it makes sense. But you didn’t have to hit me so hard.’

  ‘Don’t be so fucking wet,’ Mrs Weiss spat. Her lips remained close to Justine’s ear. The speed of her words blurred them together. ‘Hold out for as long as possible before asking for more. Make it look convincing.’

  ‘I can do that,’ Justine admitted.

  The flail snapped against her backside. A sharp tang of pain pierced her buttock and rippled through her body. ‘Damned right you can do that,’ Mrs Weiss agreed loudly.

  The tone of her voice, and the way she pulled herself away, made Justine realise that the assistant was now with them. Holding back a squeal of protest she resisted the urge to clutch her punished buttock.

  ‘My assistant’s here now,’ Mrs Weiss announced. ‘Assume the position so he can make use of you before we continue.’

  Justine opene
d her eyes wide: shocked and glaring at Mrs Weiss. The words of protest died on her lips and she realised this was merely another bridge to cross in her journey toward acquiring La Coste. And, while the idea of being used so brusquely made her cringe at first, she had to admit that her body craved some satisfaction. Mrs Weiss’s brutal torment had left her feeling unfulfilled and the prospect of sating her arousal was an opportunity she didn’t want to refuse. But, turning her head warily and assessing the huge figure within the hooded robe, Justine wondered if it was wise to submit to an abusive stranger she hadn’t properly seen.

  ‘Hurry it up,’ Mrs Weiss demanded. ‘We haven’t got all fucking day.’ As she spoke the flail slashed sharply against Justine’s rear.

  Another blister of pain skewered her backside. Gasping with surprise, Justine took three deep breaths before trusting her voice to come out without too much anger colouring the tone. ‘Which position do you want me to assume?’

  Mrs Weiss pointed with the flail and rolled her eyes as though Justine was stupid for not knowing. ‘Bend over that stone seat. And do it quickly. You’re beginning to piss me off.’

  Obedient, not daring to do anything that might incur another display of the woman’s wrath, Justine did as she was told. She could see the assistant leering at her from within the shadows of his cowl but wouldn’t let herself dwell on what she knew would come next. Moving swiftly, bending over the stone seat and lifting her buttocks high, she tried to empty her mind of all thoughts and fears as she prepared herself for whatever the pair were planning. Her mouth was dry and her heart lurched loudly with every beat.

  ‘Do what you will with her,’ Mrs Weiss said sternly. The anger in her voice had mellowed to disinterest and Justine guessed the woman was addressing the assistant. ‘The bitch needs to learn her place,’ Mrs Weiss continued. ‘And I want to have the cigarette she interrupted earlier.’

  ‘She’s mine?’ the assistant marvelled.

  Justine strained to hear an answer from behind her but there was only the crackle of Mrs Weiss sparking her lighter. When she caught the sound of the assistant’s malevolent chuckle, Justine guessed the woman must have nodded her consent. Her stomach folded with dreadful anticipation.

  Rough, masculine hands clutched her buttocks. The coarse weave of the assistant’s robe brushed her rear as he rubbed himself against her. The temptation to scream for him to stop was irresistible but she continued to bite her tongue and willed time to move quickly so the experience would soon be ended and behind her. Unable to control the reflexive response, she stiffened and clenched the muscles of her backside closed.

  ‘Don’t start getting all virtuous,’ Mrs Weiss growled. Her voice was cloudy with cigarette smoke. Justine could detect the acrid stench of tobacco over the scent of her own arousal. ‘I know that you fucked Sartine’s entire party last night. You won’t shy away from one more cock, will you?’

  Justine’s cheek flushed crimson. She quietly conceded it was true that she had taken more lovers than she could remember at Sartine’s party. But on that occasion there had been the giddy fun of dancing and music as well as champagne and glamour. The crowd had been composed of beautiful bodies and the spirit of the evening had been charged with hedonism, decadence and experimentation. Here there was only the gloom of the donjon, the stench of Mrs Weiss’s cigarettes and the lingering pain that had been wrought against her backside. The inept groping of the woman’s sinister assistant was like the antithesis of every pleasure she had enjoyed at Sartine’s.

  She heard the rustling of coarse fabric. Instinct told her the assistant was unleashing his erection and she bit back a moan of apprehension. His fingers had moved from her punished cheeks but, when they returned, she was unnerved to notice he was only holding her with one hand. Swallowing down the lump of unease that filled her throat, Justine steeled herself in anticipation.

  The fat dome of his shaft’s end brushed against her labia.

  She hadn’t thought her body would be so responsive but, as soon as he touched himself against her, a shiver of raw need bristled from her sex. She didn’t want to acknowledge the heat or the wetness but she knew her inner muscles craved him. Trying not to show her desperation, and still unsure about what else would happen to her while she was under Mrs Weiss’s authority, Justine readied herself for the penetration.

  The assistant placed the end of his length just inside her sex. He slapped both hands against her hips as he secured his grip and then pushed forcefully inside. His erection was thick, the length seemed to go on forever, and she moaned with a combination of disgust and delight. As he continued to plough into her, his thickness easily spreading her inner muscles, she was tortured by the thrill of being properly used. Since arriving at Vincennes Castle Justine had found herself squirming with frustration. Now that Mrs Weiss’s assistant was sliding his meaty erection into her pussy, she didn’t think it would take long before her body was allowed the release she needed. Her breath deepened to a laboured pant. She gritted her teeth together, trying to distance herself from every sensation and their twisted black pleasures.

  ‘How does she feel?’ Mrs Weiss asked.

  ‘She’s more than ready for it.’

  The assistant’s words shivered through his body and trembled along the shaft he had buried inside Justine. His erection was long enough to bruise the neck of her womb and, because she still couldn’t feel his loins brushing against her backside, she suspected there was more of the abominable length to come. The realisation that she was impaled on such a huge erection inspired sensations of joy and horror.

  ‘Don’t treat her gently,’ Mrs Weiss warned. ‘She had enough of that yesterday. Make sure she knows what she’s getting into.’

  Justine pressed her lips tight together for fear of voicing an objection. The air was pushed out of her when the assistant renewed his grip on her hips and banged the remaining inches of his length into her sex. As though he was little more than Mrs Weiss’s puppet he thrust deep on her command and turned the penetration from a fantastic revelation to a punishing encounter. His hold on her hips was vicious and unrelenting. As he began to slide back and forth she realised he was riding her with a brutal vigour. The inner muscles of her sex responded to him with a hunger she hadn’t anticipated and Justine knew he would easily force a climax from her sopping hole.

  ‘Make her squeal,’ Mrs Weiss laughed. ‘I want to hear the bitch scream.’

  Her voice was closer and Justine guessed the woman was coming over to get a better view. The idea of someone enjoying her suffering was twisted but she couldn’t deny it also sparked another rush of excitement. From the corner of her eye she saw Mrs Weiss’s robed figure step into view and she cringed with a blend of shame and exhilaration.

  The assistant rode her freely. The force of each penetration pushed hard into her pussy and sent a shiver through her entire body. With her forearms pressed against the stone seat, and her backside raised high in the air, Justine’s breasts swayed in rhythm with his thumping tempo. She knew her body was inching closer to orgasm but she balked at the idea of enjoying the release. It was a rigorous exercise in punishing sex and she wondered if it was too early to follow Mrs Weiss’s suggestion of how she could end the whole torturous episode.

  A hand fell to her hair.

  She instantly recognised Mrs Weiss’s uncompromising grip and knew what was coming next. It came as no surprise when her head was lifted. Every follicle on her scalp screamed in protest. And then her face was tugged toward the wetness of the woman’s sex. Acting on the unspoken instruction, lapping greedily against the offered pussy lips as the assistant continued to bang into her from behind, Justine felt the first tremor of orgasm shudder through her frame.

  The explosion happened without pleasure. The satisfying roar that came from her loins was brisk but joyless. Even though she wanted to relish its delight, a part of Justine’s mind wouldn’t let her bask in the fulfilment that came from such callous treatment. A cloudy haze blurred her vision, and her
nerve-endings tingled. But, as she regained her breath and returned her mouth to Mrs Weiss’s sex, Justine knew she couldn’t properly call the climax satisfying.

  ‘Make me come, bitch,’ Mrs Weiss growled.

  She tugged hard on Justine’s hair. The assistant tightened his hold on her hips and pushed forward with greater force than before. Another surge of responses was driven through her hole. She began to devour Mrs Weiss’s sex as eddies of despicable delight trembled along her sex.

  ‘Make me come properly this time,’ Mrs Weiss grunted.

  Anxious to obey every instruction, Justine threw herself into the task of trying to coax another eruption from the woman’s hole. It was difficult to concentrate on the task as the assistant continued banging into her sex, but she was desperate to do anything rather than suffer the woman’s displeasure again. Lapping greedily at the dewy sex lips, hungrily teasing the bud of her clitoris, Justine struggled to make the woman come.

  ‘Don’t try and tease me,’ Mr Weiss warned. ‘I want a proper tonguing.’

  Even when she felt the assistant buck hard against her, Justine was still fixing her efforts on trying to urge her employer’s climax. His shaft pulsed inside her; the inner muscles of her sex quivered around him; and then her sex was dripping from the douche of his sticky eruption. But, all the time, she was concentrating on what Mrs Weiss wanted and how best to please her.

  The assistant snatched his spent length from her hole, leaving her to feel hollow and empty. Justine barely noticed as she squirmed her lips and tongue awkwardly against Mrs Weiss’s sex. He slapped a hefty hand across her rear and mumbled, ‘Good pussy. I’ll enjoy that again before the day’s over.’

  Still working hard on tonguing a response from Mrs Weiss, Justine didn’t hear the praise. She continued to lap and tease, wishing she could look up at the woman and judge whether or not she was performing the chore properly. Her lips and mouth were lathered with a meld of her own spittle and Mrs Weiss’s juices. The flavour of the woman’s sex was rich each time she swallowed. The scent of musk filled her nostrils and perfumed every breath. Sure she was close to making the woman’s sex burst with pleasure, suddenly desperate to make her groan with delight, Justine threw an extra effort into lapping at the dewy folds of flesh.