One Week in the Private House (32 page)

The pads were moving faster now, catching against the bottom and then the top of her rock-hard nipples as they flicked up and down. Lucy bit her lip and told herself that the strokes were too brisk, that she wasn't enjoying the sensation.

The Mentor's voice intruded. 'How's it going, Lucy?' he said in a loud and extravagant voice, as if she were a contestant on a television game show. 'Are you ready to dance for us yet?'

Lucy had forgotten all about dancing. She had forgotten the cameras and the audience watching her every movement. Behind the blindfold, she had started to forget everything except her aching muscles, her titillated nipples, her vibrating insides. The Mentor's voice induced a sudden pang of fear.

She was no longer afraid of pain. She would even welcome it. This was going to be far worse. They would leave her tied to this machine, watching her writhe and wriggle, listening to every breath, until . .. No. It was unthinkable. Surely she couldn't, not like this, with a machine? She would die of shame. But if she didn't agree to the Mentor's despicable demands ... How long would they leave her here? How many times could she ...?

She set her jaw. No: she would not give in. She'd stay on the machine until it blew a fuse, if necessary.

She lowered herself on to the vibrator, guiltily aware that the device's easy passage revealed her state of excitement. She couldn't help rotating her hips as the buzzing, roving cylinder slid into her. She felt the second object probing the front of her slit, rubbing against the hood of her clitoris, each touch triggering a tremor in her entrails. And then she felt the third object, and froze.

There it was again. She hadn't imagined it: the tip of another vibrator, nuzzling the cleft between her buttocks whenever she moved her hips backwards. She clenched her arse-cheeks together, ancf was mortified to hear laughter as the Mentor pointed out her reaction.

She shook her head. 'No, no,
noV
she protested; and then realised that the vibrator was still and the room was suddenly silent.

'Master!' said the Mentor. 'We're glad to see you. I was beginning to think you wouldn't make an appearance. As you can see, we've started without you.'

'That's all right, Mentor,' said a deep, powerful voice. 'I was unavoidably detained.'

'He means it was my fault,' said another voice. 'I guess I'm just an unreliable kind of a girl.'

Lucy inclined her head. She knew that woman's voice. That was it: the redhead, the cloaked woman she had met in the tennis pavilion. She heard footsteps approaching, and sensed people gathering around her.

'A good-looking guest,' said the Master's voice, from just in front of her. 'Will she require a long training, Mentor?'

'Difficult to tell with this one,' the Mentor said. 'She's not exactly taking to it like a duck to water, if you know what I mean, but as you can see she's got loads of sexual potential. The Stimulator's working well. She's been totally resistant so far, but it's very hard to know how long we'll have to work on her before she sees reason.'

'There are no marks. Has she been flogged yet?'

Something in the Master's tone made Lucy's blood run cold.

'No, Master. Of course not. I was waiting for you to arrive.'

'Very good. Proceed with the Stimulator a little longer. I rather hope she remains obstinate.'

Lucy shuddered as a large, warm hand stroked the lower curve of her left buttock.

'May I tease her, Master?' said the redhead, giggling. 'Can I tell her what you'd like to do to her?'

'By all means,' the Master said, as his footsteps receded.

The next thing Lucy heard was an urgent whisper. 'Are you crazy?' the redhead hissed. 'What kind of game do you think you're playing? You're still stuck in the first stage. Just do what they tell you, or this initiation routine'll go on for days.'

Lucy was taken aback. 'But - But you don't know what they want me to do.'

'I can guess the kind of thing. And you're going to have to do it. Now, while you're still in one piece, or later, after they've put you through the grinder. But you'll do it. You'll do whatever they tell you. These guys have had a lot of practice. They're experts.'

'What about the cameras? They're getting this on film. If I give in . .. Well, I've got to think about my job . ..'

'You're worrying about your promotion prospects at a time like this? If you crack this place wide open, you're made. Anyhow, I can fix the cameras, if they worry you. I have a thing going with the guy who created the filing system. I can delete anything that gets recorded, OK?'

The redhead's voice seemed persuasively reasonable to Lucy. 'So you think I should just give in and do it?'

'Yes! Goddammit, that's the only way you'll get on the inside of this operation. You're no use to me stuck in here chained to these machines for a week. Do what they want.'

'Well - All right.'

'But not right now. That way you'll blow my cover and yours with it. So make it look good. OK? Another fifteen minutes of saying no, stiff upper lip, Dunkirk spirit of defiance, and all that stuff. Then the sudden collapse, abject surrender. Can you do that?'

if I have to.'

'You have to. Hell, you might even get to like it. Good luck!'

She was gone. Lucy heard her voice again, as her heels tapped across the floor. 'Hey, Master! This one's real pigheaded. We're going to have a whole bunch of fun initiating her, I can tell you!'

Lucy swallowed. Her mouth was dry. Another quarter of an hour of stimulation, she thought, and then I have to beg to be allowed to perform a sexy dance with a tail hanging out of my arse. All in the line of duty, I suppose. A policeperson's lot is not always a dignified one. At least I know I won't be recorded on video tape for posterity.

There was a click; the vibrator inside her recommenced its exploration of her vagina.

Jem lay on the bed in her chamber in the Round Tower. It had been one hell of a busy day, she reflected, but a successful one.

Maxine must have freed herself and then tidied the room: there was no trace of the black ribbon Jem had used to bind her, and not a speck of dust anywhere. Sebastian was a lovely man, and the information he'd provided was even lovelier. And Lucy had, in the end, succumbed very realistically to the Mentor's training methods: after two noisy and, Jem thought, genuine orgasms while on the Stimulator, Lucy had performed an arse-waggling dance of unbridled sensuality. Headman had been disappointed, but Jem had diverted his wrath and his riding-crop towards one of his slaves: the one who had tormented Jem while tying her to the chandelier in Headman's bedchamber the previous evening.

Everything is going just fine, Jem thought; so why do I have this nasty feeling that the situation is slipping out of my hands? And where the hell is Julia?

Jem was surprised by the intensity of her sudden yearning for her pretty bodyguard. She wanted to feel Julia's face between her thighs and Julia's tongue inside her; she wanted to see those dark, long-lashed eyes looking up at her.

She wasn't used to feeling indecisive. Why hadn't Headman asked for her this evening? She was glad to be away from him, as his temper was becoming increasingly unpredictable. But she didn't like not knowing what he was up to.

Should she go upstairs and find out whether he was in his chambers? Or perhaps she could spend the evening with Sebastian? That would be a pleasanter option, but a trifle self-indulgent. Or should she try to find Julia? That might be the easiest to achieve. She picked up the telephone and dialled the servants' quarters.

'Hi, it's Jem. Yeah, yeah, cut all that stuff out. Can you find Maxine, Julia's maid, for me? Thanks, honey. Ask her to come up to my room, would you?'

Jem jumped from the bed, crossed the room to the vast, dark wardrobe, and shrugged off her silk peignoir. She looked over her shoulder and considered the reflection of her naked body. The marks made by Headman's crop were still just visible as dull red lines. No permanent damage, Jem thought; that's a relief. Just a little pink shading to make my pretty little butt even prettier!

She dabbed perfume into her pubic hair and under her breasts, and watched her nipples harden as she ran her fingernails lightly around them. Aware of the effect of the sight of her naked body on Julia's adoring maid, she decided to wear nothing but a thin leather belt buckled about her hips.

There was a knock on the door.

'Come in!' Jem called, and turned. Maxine stood in the doorway, wearing her maid's uniform.

'Close the door, Maxine, and strip. Everything off!'

The maid smiled happily, turned to shut the door, and came to stand in front of Jem. Her eyes came to rest on the gleaming band of leather slung round Jem's hips; Jem parted her legs and ran her fingertips along the belt, and as if startled into action, Maxine started to undress.

Her breasts strained against the thin material of her blouse as she put her hands behind her to untie the little white apron. She held the scrap of cotton uncertainly for a moment, and then dropped it on the floor. Jem enjoyed the blush that appeared on the maid's round cheeks as her hands went to her throat and she tried not to hurry and fumble as she undid the buttons of her black voile blouse. She left the garment hanging open as she tugged it from the waistband of her skirt and then unbuttoned the cuffs. Then, with a quick glance at Jem, she pulled the blouse from her shoulders and let it fall from her body.

She stood for a moment, the white mounds of her breasts rising and falling in the half-cups of her corset, then with one deft movement, she unfastened her short black skirt and let it fall round her ankle-boots. She smiled shyly, her eyes darting to Jem's face and away again. Jem waited, enjoying the lascivious thrills that were spreading gradually through her insides.

'Should I take off my stays, Miss?' Maxine said.

'Your what, child?'

'My corsets, Miss.'

'Of course, Maxine. I want you completely naked.'

The maid bent forward to unlace her boots, and her breasts swung free of their supports, sliding against each other and against her bare arms as her fingers tugged at the boots.

In her stockinged feet Maxine was no taller than Jem, and Jem found herself gripping the black leather belt to contain her impatience. The temptation to handle the maid's heavy breasts was almost beyond endurance, but Jem made herself watch and wait while Maxine unfastened her stockings and rolled them down her legs.

Maxine took a step towards Jem, as if to offer her magnificent bosom, while her hands were busy behind her back unfastening the hooks and eyes of the corset. She pulled the black lace and whalebone away from her front, and tossed it aside. She stood, eyes lowered, waiting for instructions.

Jem studied Maxine's body. The maid had a perfect and well-padded shape. No part of her could be described as thin, but the lushness of her breasts, the flaring of her hips, and even the rotundity of her belly only served to emphasise the incurving at her waist. There were dimples where her plump thighs joined her pelvis, and where her breasts jostled against her upper arms. Her chubby mount of Venus was covered with a glossy forest of dark curls that disappeared into the deep valley between the rounded hills of her belly and thighs.

'Loosen your hair,' Jem said, and bit her lip with delight as the girl put her hands behind her head and her breasts rose up her ribcage. A curtain of long, wavy dark hair fell round the maid's face. Her eyes peeked out at Jem like those of a rabbit peering from a thicket of long grass.

'Come closer,' Jem said, her voice a little husky. 'Ask permission to kiss my right breast.'

The maid took small steps forward until she was only centimetres from Jem's body. Jem could feel Maxine's warm breath on her neck; their nipples were almost touching.

'Please, Miss,' Maxine said almost inaudibly, 'please may I kiss your right breast?'

'Oh yes,' Jem breathed, 'lots and lots.'

Jem closed her eyes and put her head back as the maid's soft lips touched the upper slope of her breast. The first kiss was just a brush of the lips, the second a lingering touch. And then Jem thrust her fingers into the maid's thick hair, and held her face against her body, and Maxine's kisses became a barrage of sense-explosions.

'Lick me,' Jem ordered. 'Underneath, yes, just there. Harder than that! And now the nipple, Maxine. Not so fast! Little kisses first. Very good, that's very nice. Now use your tongue ... Yes, like that, but let me see you doing it. Good, good. Now you can suck, Maxine, and keep on sucking until I say stop ...'

Jem's legs were trembling. She pulled back Maxine's head.

'Please may I kiss the other one now, Miss?' the maid said, her lips glistening and her eyes sparkling.

Jem shook her head. 'Not right now,' she said. 'We have things to discuss first. Tell me: what did I promise you this morning?'

'Well, Miss, you said that if the Master punished me, Miss, you'd count the lines on my bottom and give me twice as many on my tits.' Maxine grinned and cupped her hands under her breasts, lifting them towards Jem.

'Let me see,' Jem said. 'Turn round.'

Maxine turned on her heels, parted her legs, and bent forward to clasp her hands round her ankles.