Dangerous Pleasures (21 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary

BOOK: Dangerous Pleasures
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“Today, Mistress Anne,” he said from behind her in his rough, smoky voice, “we shall see how well you have learned your lessons of obedience.” The leather tawse cracked and made contact with her buttocks. “Excellent,” he said approvingly when she did not cry out. “You will receive nine more strokes of my leather, and you may scream after the sixth blow. I will count for you so you can concentrate upon the biting and burning sensation of your tender flesh.”

She wondered why it was that she had programmed a punishment fantasy for herself, but it was certainly interesting. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as the fourth blow touched her buttocks. And then she noticed a young soldier standing in the shadows watching as the Beast whipped her. He was handsome, and he smiled at her. She heard the Beast intone eight, and Annie shrieked for him as he added the final two blows.

He said nothing at first when he had finished, instead winching her up and spreading her legs wide by shortening the shackles that bound her. “Is she ready, Klaus?” He directed his question to the young soldier.

Klaus stepped forward and cupped her mound. Then he shook his head. “Close, my lord. Perhaps a bit of tongue to help bring her on.”

The Beast smiled wolfishly. “Do it, then,” he commanded. Then his hand wrapped itself in Annie’s thick chestnut hair, and he pulled her head back, looking down into her face. “You will not come, Mistress Anne. No matter how badly you desire it, you will not come because you come only for your lord. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, my lord,” Annie gasped.

“Excellent,” he said, and released her head. But then his hands moved around to fondle and play with her full, round breasts.

As he did the soldier called Klaus began to tongue her. Her mons, she noted in her fantasy, was shaved, plump and pink. Klaus knelt beneath her, and his tongue began to explore her slowly and most carefully. He licked the edges of her nether lips. He ran his tongue up the shadowed slit several times. Then the marauding tongue pushed through those lips to find her clit, and he knew he had when she whimpered. The relentless tongue flicked back and forth over that tiny, sensitive nubbin of flesh.

Annie moaned. “My lord, my lord, I must come soon or I will die!” She gave a little shriek as the tongue dove deeper and found the opening to her vagina. The tongue worked around it before pushing itself into her a small way. “My lord, I beg of you, make him cease this torture!”

The Beast, who had been playing with her nipples, stopped. “Are her juices ready to come, Klaus?” he asked the soldier.

The young man raised his head. “Yes, my lord.”

“You will be rewarded,” the Beast told him. “Step away from her now.”

The soldier rose to his feet and took his place again opposite Annie.

“Now, my pet, something new,” the Beast told her. Coming about to face her, he held up a leather dildo. It was covered in small bumps. “Lubricant!” And the soldier held forth a deep bowl of oil into which the Beast dipped the dildo. “Remember, you cannot come,” he warned her. Then he slowly inserted the dildo, rotating it so that she felt the tiny bumps irritating her vagina and setting it afire with lust. Annie cried out again. “I must come, my lord!
I must!

“Not yet, Mistress Anne. Not quite yet,” he told her.

“No! No!” she sobbed.

“Will you show me disobedience again, wench?” he demanded as he thrust the dildo back and forth within her.

“You are cruel, my lord!” And suddenly, just as she was near her crisis, he withdrew the dildo, lowered her, and freed her.

“Hands against the wall, Mistress Anne, and spread yourself,” he ordered her, his naked chest pressing against her naked back. Then he pushed himself slowly into her hot, wet vagina. “Remember, you will not come until I say you may,” he growled. Then he drove himself hard and deep until she could no longer bear it. She began to spasm even as he came, and when he had filled her with his lust he snarled, “You were told not to come, Mistress Anne, until I gave you leave.”

“But you came!” she sobbed.

“Disobedience is in your nature, I fear,” the Beast said. “Klaus, you may have your reward now.”

Annie felt the Beast step away from her, and the soldier took his place. Spreading the cheeks of her ass with two strong fingers, he directed his penis to her anus and began to push slowly, slowly into that channel. “Nooo!” she cried, but she felt her excitement overcoming her at this forbidden pleasure.

“Be silent, Mistress Anne,” the Beast cautioned her, “and take his cock into your fundament obediently, as you are commanded to do.”

Fully sheathed now, the guardsman reached for her breasts, crushing them in his big hands. He pulled the nipples and pinched them cruelly. Leaning forward, he nipped the back of her neck; then he began to whisper to her. “Do you feel my strong cock within your asshole, wench? You’re tight as any virgin should be. Do you like being fucked this way? Aye, you do, for I feel you trembling with your excitement.” He withdrew his penis slowly, and then thrust hard into her again.

Annie moaned.

“Squeeze me tightly, wench,” the guardsman said, releasing her breasts from his grip. Then his hand slid between her legs, and he began to finger her clit until Annie could not stem the excitement rising within her heated body. He allowed her two small clitoral orgasms before whispering hotly in her ear, “Now, make me come, wench!”

Annie concentrated on tightening her rectal muscles until Klaus began to whimper like a child, and suddenly she felt him releasing his cum into her back channel. She gasped as he withdrew from her and fell to her knees. But the Beast was not yet finished with her.

“On your back, Mistress Anne,” he ordered her, and when she obeyed him he covered her with his big body, and his huge cock drove into her heated body. “You will not come,” he warned her again, “until I give you leave.” He thrust hard and deep.

“No,” Annie told him boldly. “It is you who will not come until I tell you! Ride me hard, my lord! I am not yet satisfied at all.”

With a roar of fury the Beast fucked her until Annie was seeing stars and their bodies were covered in sweat. She heard the warning ping of the Channel about to close.

“Quickly, my lord!” she told him. “Now! Now! Now!” And they both came in a frenzy of hot, sticky cum as Annie awoke in her own bed. She was panting, and exhausted with her evening. It had gone so quickly. But she was now satisfied, and at least when she saw Devyn tomorrow she wouldn’t feel embarrassed. Maybe after their dinner she would play the B fantasy, and make it a perfect end to a perfect evening. She grinned to herself as she rolled over to go to sleep. She was addicted to the Channel, she knew. But she didn’t care. And as for her late husband, well, the unbearable ache of missing Nat was finally subsiding. He had been one of the good guys, but he wasn’t here anymore. The Beast and Devyn were. A woman had needs, and she now realized that those needs shouldn’t be denied.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

N
athaniel came home early from Princeton for Thanksgiving. “Wow!” he said as he stepped back from his mother, eyes admiring. “You’ve lost a little weight, and your hair is different. You look terrific, Mom! If this is what having a job does for you, I’m all for it.” Then he hugged her and kissed her cheek.

Annie laughed. “I love it,” she admitted.

He helped her clean out the storage room off the kitchen. When they had emptied it they discovered a small fireplace on one wall. It had been hidden by a barrier of boxes. Nathaniel opened the flue, lit a piece of paper, and grinned as the smoke went up the chimney. It was open and clear. The fireplace worked. They washed the two side-by-side windows that looked out on the woods in the empty lot on one side of the house. Nat had bought the lot several years after they moved into the house.

“Can’t protect what you don’t own,” he had said.

They all painted the room a cheerful shade of jonquil yellow, with white trim, and added a floral border below the ceiling. They had found a heavy maple three-quarter-canopied bed when they had cleaned the room out. It had been in the house when they bought it. They set it up now, along with its bureau and nightstand. A simple ruffled white cotton canopy topped the bed, and matching ruffled white cotton Priscilla curtains framed the windows. Annie had enough disposable income now to purchase a mattress and box spring for the bed, along with some linens. A comfortable chair and ottoman in a deep yellow-and-cream stripe was positioned by the fireplace. Next to it was set a small round antique table with a lamp. The bed was made with fresh sheets, and the down quilt in its yellow-blue-and-white duvet was folded neatly at the foot of the bed. There were two large pillows propped against the headboard.

The room had no closet, but there had been a large, dusty armoire with a yellowed mirror set inside one of its doors. Cleaning it out, they painted the armoire yellow and white, and put in some hangers. The wide, dark floorboards of the room were covered with a large oval rag rug in light and dark shades of blue and creamy beige. They had found several old prints, pastoral and floral scenes probably as old as the house itself. They reframed and hung them. A lamp was added to the bedside table.

“Where is she going to wash and pee?” Nathaniel asked his mother.

Annie’s face registered consternation. “Oh, lordy!” she said.

“The ooky bathroom,” Amy reminded her mother. “The one we never used because it was so old and disgusting. Can we fix it up, too?”

The bathroom in question was directly across the little back hallway from what had been the storeroom. It had obviously once been the domain of whoever lived in what had become the storage room, now refurbished to be Nanny’s room.

“I haven’t looked in there in years,” Annie admitted. “I’m not sure I even want to open the door. God only knows what’s in there.”

The twins jumped forward gleefully to open the door, but it was stuck. Nathaniel put his shoulder against it and shoved hard. There was a slight ripping sound, but the door creaked open slightly. Nathaniel pushed harder, and the door finally opened wide. They looked inside. There was an ancient toilet with an oak water box above it, a pedestal sink, and small claw-foot bathtub.

“Ewwww, it’s disgusting,” Amy said, wrinkling her nose.

“For once she’s right,” Rose responded, and Lily nodded in agreement.

“What do you think, Mom?” Nathaniel asked Annie.

Annie sighed, but then she said, “It’s doable, but it’s going to take some work.”

“New toilet, absolutely,” Nathaniel remarked. “That old water box looks like it could come down if you pulled the chain. And the plumbing may need a bit of a check. I’ll call Mike Wheeler. He started working with his dad in high school.”

“He didn’t go to college?” Annie was surprised. They all went to college nowadays.

“Wasn’t interested, and besides, he had a family business to go into,” Nathaniel said. “And he likes being a plumber.”

“Call him,” Annie said.

The Wheelers, father and son, arrived shortly after Nathaniel called. Wheeler Senior was fascinated by the ancient toilet. “I’ll trade you for a nice, new modern commode, and all the new fixtures you’ll need for this room, Mrs. Miller,” he said. “I have a collection of antique plumbing fixtures, but I don’t have one like this.”

“You got it!” Annie told him.
Less expense,
she thought happily.

The floor in the old bathroom was wood. They could refinish it, or get some vinyl tiles at the nearby Lowe’s. They opted for the tiles. The Wheelers removed the sink, tub, and old toilet and redid the plumbing pipes. Annie and the girls repainted the room. They had enough border left over from the bedroom to put up. Nathaniel and Mike Wheeler laid the vinyl tiles. The new commode was installed, the tub and the sink restored to their proper places. Amy washed the little bathroom window and put up a shade.

Nanny would arrive the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and they were ready for her. Annie had been spared the trouble of cooking Thanksgiving dinner by her mother.

“With you working now,” Phyllis said as they sat after the meal consuming pumpkin pie, “you really don’t have time to do it properly, and with your father on the golf course all the time I do. I don’t know why you didn’t ask me to look after Wills.”

“You’re going on a three-week cruise to South America and the Caribbean right after Christmas, and then on to Arizona for the winter,” Annie reminded her mother. “Besides, I’m not paying for it. The Channel Corporation is paying Nanny Violet.”

“This Mr. Nicholas would appear to like you,” Phyllis murmured. “He hasn’t done or suggested anything inappropriate to you, has he?”

Annie burst out laughing. “Mr. Nicholas?” she said. “He’s like a father figure to his employees. An old-fashioned guy who rewards diligence and hard work. Isn’t that refreshing in this day and age, Mom? There is no way in hell that he could qualify as a skirt-chasing devil. I don’t think he’s trying to get in my pants by giving me a nanny.”

“Anne Elizabeth Miller!” her mother exclaimed, red spots exploding on her cheeks. “Please remember I raised you to be a lady.” Then, hearing a snicker, she turned on her other daughter. “And the same goes for you, Elizabeth Anne Bradford.”

Nanny Violet arrived promptly at one p.m. Sunday afternoon. Wills and the girls greeted her joyfully, leading her to her newly refurbished room, showing her her own little private bathroom. Nanny Violet’s eyes welled up with tears. “Why, it’s a real home for me,” she said in a quavering voice. “Thank you so much.”

Nathaniel set her bags down. “Come on, kids,” he said. “Let’s give Nanny a bit of time to unpack. Tea at four.” And he ushered his siblings out. “I like her,” he told his mother. “It’s good to know there’s someone reliable for the girls and Wills.”

“You said you approved of my working,” Annie replied.

“I do, Mom,” her oldest child told her. “But the little ones need someone to be home for them. And you needed to find out who you were and what you can do. It can’t have been a barrel of laughs in this day and age being referred to as Nat Miller’s widow. Such a brave woman. You’re more than Dad’s widow, and only Wills is going to be here forever,” he concluded with a grin.

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