One Week in the Private House (19 page)

Julia delivered five more blows to Asmita's right buttock, each a little harder and placed a little lower than the last, so that the final one landed with a loud report along the faint indentation between cheek and thigh. She repeated the pattern on the left cheek, and this time the tip of the flicker also caught the very inside of Asmita's right buttock on each of the first five strokes, and on the sixth it tapped the dark swollen flesh of her sex.

Asmita shuddered, and her buttocks clenched involuntarily. Julia paused, waiting for Asmita to relax completely and revelling in the prickly sensation that had begun to pulse in her loins. Chief Anderson was standing close to Asmita, holding her head against his chest and idly fondling her breasts as he supervised Julia's progress.

Julia stepped forward to run her hand through Asmita's cascade of thick black hair, and then returned to her position while running a fingernail down the dark girl's spine. Her finger came to rest at the point where Asmita's buttocks met to form their tight dark valley, and she left it there until, with a muffled groan of acquiescence, Asmita twisted her knees so that her feet trailed on the outside of the armrests and her arse opened widely. Chief Anderson nodded his approval.

Now Julia stood behind Asmita, experimenting with quick, sharp, criss-cross strokes that landed across the central divide and left small ticks of dull pink on the sensitive skin on either side of the sooty crinkled hole. Anderson, breathing deeply, released Asmita, who lowered her head against the back of the chair and began to move her hips in little back and forth impulses in time with the regular cracks of Julia's leather on her reddened flesh. • Julia was hardly aware of Chief Anderson standing beside her until she felt his fingers grasp her free hand and guide it to the tip of his stiff prick. Without pausing in the rhythm of her blows she started to squeeze it gently, and she threw him a quick smile as she felt his hand lifting the back of her tunic and delving into the moist pit of swirling lust between her thighs.

The breathy gasps of all three participants now filled the room, almost covering the increasingly erratic thwacks of Julia's flicker. Asmita was pushing her hips so far back that her arse-cheeks were like two perfect orbs; her dark sex had split open to reveal pink glistening folds of wet flesh. I know what she wants, Julia thought as she struggled to keep her mind on the job, but I jolly well won't whip her delicious big vagina, no matter how much she begs with it. And she continued to strike all around the gaping mouth until a glowing halo of punished skin surrounded Asmita's proffered sex.

At last she stopped, and almost without thinking, she pulled Chief Anderson forward by his twitching member and inserted the purple tip into Asmita's cleft. Asmita gasped with shock, and Anderson, placing his huge hands on her hips, rammed his bulk against her raw backside. Julia moved behind the chair and, grabbing a handful of Asmita's long hair, pulled the girl's face up. Asmita's eyes were bright with tears, but her face was flushed and her smile was as wide as ever.

'OK?' Julia said softly.

'Fantastic,' Asmita said, beginning to rock up and down as Anderson increased the speed of his thrusts, 'but you're a terrible tease, Julia. Kiss me. And play with my nipples, you'll make me come like that.'

I love this place, Julia thought as she happily complied with Asmita's requests, her tongue meeting Asmita's each time Anderson buried himself in the Asian girl and her fingers tugging at Asmita's soft but wrinkled brown tit-ends. Her trepidation about being called to the Master's chambers vanished from her mind as she felt and heard Asmita and then Anderson reach a climax that threatened to shatter the chair.

Lucy glumly crunched the last corner of her ration of crisp-bread. She had extended her dinner for as long as she could, but with so little to eat it was difficult to find reasons to linger. She was ravenous, and Julia had still not appeared. Other guests, who had arrived even earlier than she, had long since nibbled their way through the assorted salads and departed towards their evening sessions. Evening sessions of what, Lucy wondered: aerobics or fornication? How could she find out? And where was Julia? Had they abducted her? Who were
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Lucy sighed and folded her napkin into a small triangle. The waiters were beginning to stare at her, she was sure of it. Perhaps she should return to her room. No point in drawing attention to myself, she thought; I've still got two of the apple turnovers I smuggled in yesterday.

With a final glance along each of the portrait-lined corridors that led from the reception hall, none of which contained Julia, Lucy climbed the staircase and made for her room.

Once inside, she checked the long blonde hairs that she had pulled from her head and placed as if at random across the drawers and cupboard doors. Not one had been disturbed. They haven't rumbled me yet, then, she congratulated herself, so I've got nothing to worry about.

She unzipped her light cotton dress, stepped out of it, and stood in bra and panties before the built-in wardrobe mirror. She patted her flat stomach, reflecting that on the Health Club's diet she hardly needed exercise to keep her in shape. But regular habits have a momentum of their own, and she started her warm-up routine, touching her toes, stretching her spine, and flinging her arms backward in time with an imaginary tune.

Warm-up completed, she paused to catch her breath, and caught sight of the golden curves of her breasts rising and falling in their underwired cradles of lace. Who'd be an hourglass, she thought smugly, when you can have a finely-honed wedge-shaped body like mine? Men go crazy for my chest - she filled her lungs and her bulging breasts almost burst from their restraints - but there's not another surplus centimetre of flesh on me. She admired the reflection of her taut ribcage, inswept stomach, slim hips, round buttocks and long, tapering legs and realised with a start that she was wasting exercise time. Leg lifts, she told herself, and lowered herself to the floor.

She failed to hear the door open, and was on her back with her legs pointing straight up at the ceiling when she became aware of the intruder. Slowly, she parted her erect legs and saw her beloved Asian masseuse staring down at her prone body.

'What a lovely sight,' Asmita giggled, her eyes fixed firmly on the taut gusset of Lucy's knickers. 'Hello, Lucy!'

'Asmita!' Lucy said, allowing her legs to fall to the floor. 'I didn't think I'd see you again. I was a bit rough with you when you wouldn't tell me anything about this place.'

'That's all right. I fot-give you. I told you about Julia, anyhow.'

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Yes. Yes, you did. She's a useful lead.' There was an awkward silence. Asmita's cheerfulness seemed almost artificially bright, Lucy thought; perhaps her own guilty conscience was causing her to imagine things. Only a few hours ago she had seduced Julia in this very room; she allowed her eyes to wander to the bed, and blushed when she realised Asmita had been following her gaze. But Asmita couldn't possibly know she'd been unfaithful, could she?

it's too early for bed,' Asmita laughed, and Lucy's worries dissolved. Tt would be fun, of course; but you have to finish your exercises.'

'Finished!' Lucy said, starting to lever herself up from her prone position, but Asmita descended on her in a flurry of silk sari, surrounding her face within a curtain of scented black hair. Lucy could have thrown her off in an instant, but instead she sank back to the floor, gazing up into her lover's deep dark gleaming eyes. 'Oh, my dark angel!' she sighed, and left her lips open to receive Asmita's kiss, surrendering to the hands that wriggled into her bra, eased it up to her neck, and attempted to encompass the freed mounds of her breasts.

'Exercises!' Asmita said between kisses. 'I want to see these titties bouncing up and down. But to start with: let's carry on with stretching your legs.' She twisted round, and as she did so her sari dropped from her body. Lucy pulled the sheer material away from her face to find Asmita sitting on her stomach again, but this time naked and facing towards her feet. The Asian girl glanced over her shoulder. 'Knickers off!' she said. 'Lift up your legs, like before.'

Asmita's fingers were already tugging at the elastic waistband. Lucy straightened her long legs and lifted them steadily into the air, until her toes were pointing straight up to the ceiling. She was rewarded with a closer view of Asmita's delightful bottom, as the girl slid her arse back from Lucy's raised hips and leant forward to pull the knickers up Lucy's vertical thighs. Asmita lifted herself away from Lucy's ribcage to tug the knickers from the tips of Lucy's toes, and Lucy feasted her eyes on the dark swollen sex-lips on which she so dearly wished to feast her tongue. She raised a hand and trailed the backs of her fingers across the forested hillock of black curls.

'Hands off!' Asmita said, slapping away the hand and squashing Lucy's breasts as she sat down again firmly. That's for later: your prize for doing your exercises. Now then: let me see you spread these legs.'

Lucy felt her muscles tremble as she tried to keep her movements smooth and steady. Little by little she moved her legs apart, biting her lip as she resisted the temptation to hurry, determined to allow Asmita only a gradual view of the blonde treasure at the apex of her straining thighs.

There was a tickling between her knees; as the gap between her legs widened, Asmita was leaning forward and lowering her face into the growing V. Lucy could feel the soft fringe of black hair descending between her thighs, and watched hungrily as Asmita's bottom lifted and brought the dark underhang closer and closer to Lucy's face. Lucy pressed her arms against the carpet and raised her head; Asmita stopped moving.

'Not yet,' Asmita said. 'Legs very wide, please, first.' She pecked a kiss on the inside of each of Lucy's thighs. Lucy groaned and let her head fall back to the floor. The muscles in her legs and neck were aching abominably, but she wanted to please her dark-skinned darling; she drew on her experience of years of police training, and summoned the willpower to widen her legs little by little, until the angle between them was greater than ninety degrees, and each foot felt like a lead weight that she could barely support.

'Beautiful,' Asmita breathed. 'Now keep very still.' And she swept aside her long tresses and lowered her face into the yawning angle between Lucy's trembling legs. At the same time she wriggled her hips backwards, capturing Lucy's overflowing breasts between her thighs and bringing her sex, at last, within reach of Lucy's eager lips.

Lucy was in heaven. With the tip of her nose touching the stretched silkiness of Asmita's anus, she could smell only the earthy, bitter-sweet odour that she adored and that was subtly heavier than the tangy aroma of Julia's arse; with her lips covered by the moist prickly softnes of Asmita's sex she could do nothing but let the girl's salty musk drain into her mouth. Asmita's tongue darted about her throbbing clitoris, sending shivers through her insides that grew into explosive tremors only to subside into more shiverings. With each tremor that shook her spine she extended her tongue more deeply into Asmita's hot, wet interior; each time she thrust her tongue upwards, Asmita's cruel hands closed more tightly around the febrile hardness at the tips of her imprisoned breasts.

She had no idea how long she remained in this paradise, nor how many tremors and quakes racked her body; she opened her eyes to find Asmita kneeling beside her.

'Naughty girl,' Asmita said, 'you didn't keep your legs straight. You need more exercises.'

'What? Asmita, my sweetness, I'm shattered. I can't -'

'Press-ups next, I think.'

'Press-ups?'

'Come on, turn over. On your front. That's it. But wait a moment. If you lift your front up - that's right - I can lie in front of you, like this.' Asmita positioned herself face down, lying in the same direction as Lucy with her hips between Lucy's hands and her legs spread wide apart.

'My bra Lucy began, as, although she had lifted her torso to the full extent of her arms, her heavy breasts were almost touching the carpet between Asmita's legs.

it'll be nice,' Asmita said, looking back over her shoulder. 'Every time you lower yourself, your big hard nipples will be crushed against the carpet and you'll be able to push your face right into my rude places.'

Lucy experimented. 'Oh yes,' she said in a muffled voice as her breasts were compressed between her ribs and the prickly velvet of the floor, and her face sank between the soft brown cushions of Asmita's arse. 'But I won't want to lift myself up again, will I?'

'It doesn't matter,' Asmita laughed, 'we've got all evening to do your exercises, haven't we?'

* * *

This is it, Jem said to herself. I won't be able to hold him off tonight. Let's hope I can pull off a virtuoso performance - and tire him out quickly, too.

She was standing beside Terence Headman as he worked at his desk in his study, an octagonal room that occupied the attic of the Round Tower. A shaft of red evening sunlight entered through one of the skylights that pierced the Tower's conical tiled roof. Occasionally Jem heard the pacing of the Security guard who circled the battlements.

Like the rest of the Private House, the Master's study was furnished in antique style. The walls were lined with books, the desks were of oak inlaid with cherry, and the chairs were covered in fine red leather. Even the telephone, a modern push-button device with conferencing and callback and every one of the latest improvements in telecommunications, was disguised within an old-fashioned black bakelite shell. And although Headman referred continually to the glowing, digit-filled computer screen that sat incongruously on the french-polished woodwork, he wrote his notes on fine bond paper with a fat Waterman fountain pen. From time to time he would lift the telephone to demand information about certain transactions or to insist on changes to plans; the red-haired Rhoda, it seemed to Jem, was on the receiving end of most of these calls. But when he wanted to instigate new procedures or to issue important new orders, Jem noticed that he would write them by hand, in his plain, upright script, and would seal the folded paper with red sealing-wax; and he would mark the molten wax with his monogram, a cursive capital M, using either the signet ring on his right hand or one of the identical rings that lay in a tiny ivory tray on the desk.