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Authors: Esme Ombreux

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica

One Week in the Private House (43 page)

BOOK: One Week in the Private House
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Julia pulled away from Jem. i'm yours, Jem,' she said. 'We're all yours now. What shall we do?'

Jem closed her eyes and summoned her last reserves of strength. She wanted nothing but to sink into a soft bed with Julia and a large pot of soothing lotion, but she had new responsibilities now. She pointed the riding crop at Lucy.

inspector Larson, you have no authority here. I have videotape of your initiation, and I guess your dramatic performance this morning, in that ridiculous costume you're still wearing, is also on tape. I'll bet your superiors would find it entertaining viewing.'

'But you said nothing would be recorded!' Lucy said. 'You said you could wipe everything!'

'Sure, I can. But I prefer not to. This way I can ensure your co-operation. We'll find you a job in the Security Corps, maybe; or you can work on the outside, as a field officer. But I think you need a whole lot more training first.'

Lucy could hardly find words. 'But - But what about -I mean, bloody hell, I've made an arrest, and we've got all that information about the Private House, and -'

'And it will be very useful,' Jem said. 'The Private House will go on, boys and girls. Business as usual, but under new management. And one more thing: from now on, I guess you all better call me Mistress.'

Epilogue

Simon Warbeck glanced up in annoyance when he heard the door close. His expression changed to one of shock and embarassment as he recognised his visitor.

'Inspector!' he stammered. 'I didn't expect - I mean, you're back again. I thought you weren't coming back to Hendon. Didn't you say -'

'You don't sound very pleased to see me, Simon,' Lucy said. 'Didn't you enjoy my last visit?'

Lucy gave him several minutes to think about her previous visit, and was gratified to see a bright pink blush appear on his cheeks and spread gradually up to his receding hairline, across to his freckled ears, and down to his wrinkled collar.

'Yes,' he said at last. 'Yes of course. It was great fun. I'd never done anything like that before.'

'I know, you told me,' Lucy said. She pulled a small cassette recorder from her handbag. 'I thought you might like to hear the edited highlights.'

She watched his eyes dart from the cassette recorder to her face, and then to the four corners of the small office, as if seeking an escape route.

Lucy grinned. Confrontations of this sort were becoming almost routine, but she found that her enjoyment of them was as keen as ever. In fact, as she gained in confidence with each figurative notch she carved in her cassette recorder, she found that she was increasingly able to relax and take her pleasure during the first stage of each operation and also to revel in the one-sided power games of each second stage.

The Simon Warbeck operation was in its second stage. Acknowledging the fearful technician's protests with no more than a careless smile, Lucy locked the door, swept a heap of print-out off the side of his desk, and placed her cassette recorder in the space she had created. She pressed the
Play
button.

Warbeck stared at the hissing machine as if it were a bomb about to explode. But, Lucy thought as she unbuttoned her skirt and let it drop to the floor, in a way that's exactly what it is. She walked round the desk, discarding her blouse on the way, and stood next to Warbeck's chair.

She leant forward to switch off his computer terminal. Warbeck's proprietorial concern for his software overcame his fascination with the hissing tape, and he turned to find himself gazing into the golden valley between Lucy's lace-supported breasts. He gulped.

Lucy removed his spectacles. His eyes swam weakly.
My name's Simon Warbeck
, the tape machine suddenly announced.
What can I do for you?

Lucy ran her fingers through his thin strands of hair, and then pulled his head forward, crushing his face between her jutting mounds. She heard her own voice emanating from the tape:
There are lots of things I want you to do for me, Simon. But first I'd like to do some things for you.

She unclenched his fingers from the computer's mouse and pulled his hand towards her. She used his inert fingers to ruffle her blonde pubic curls, then momentarily opening her thighs, she imprisoned his hand in the moist, warm hollow. 'We had fun last week, didn't we, Simon?' she breathed, her lips touching the top of his head.

Warbeck only whimpered and nodded, burying his face more deeply in her cleavage. Lucy let him remain there as the tape continued to spout its crackling record of their last encounter.

They'd done another good job at the House, Lucy thought. The Security sound engineers had edited out most of the chit-chat and
every
mention of Lucy's name; but the conversation still sounded realistic and fluent, and it gave the impression that it had been Warbeck who had seduced his anonymous female visitor rather than the other way round. Every word and sigh was audible, and the engineers had amplified the sounds of rustling clothes, of lips against skin, of fingers dabbling in well-lubricated orifices, so that the taped conversation could be taken as nothing other than a record of a frenzied orgy.

The reality had been rather different, Lucy remembered. Faced with Lucy's stockinged, knickerless legs and warmly inviting bosom, Warbeck had reacted like a rabbit trapped in the headlights of a car. It was only after Lucy had half-smothered him between her tits while whispering lewd suggestions and coaxing his shrivelled member out of its Y-fronts that he had started to appreciate the erotic possibilities of the situation.
You\>e locked me in your office, Simon
, said Lucy's voice on the tape, not exactly truthfully,
and you've found out I'm not wearing any knickers, you naughty man. What are you going to do next?

Don't stop - Don't stop touching me there
, said War-beck's plaintive recorded voice.
Let me play with your titties.
Lucy felt his fingers move between her thighs, and detected an unmistakeable twitching in the front of his trousers.

Judging the time to be right, she released his hand from captivity, swivelled his chair to face her, and slowly lowered herself on to his lap.
You've got such lovely big titties,
Warbeck's amazed voice was saying from the tape as Lucy pushed forward her chest and unhooked her bra. His eyes bulged as the lacy cups fell away and Lucy's pink-tipped breasts were revealed.

'You had so much fun with these last time,' Lucy, said, pulling his hands against the firm flesh. 'Would you like me to rub your willy in between them again? Or should I send this tape to your wife instead?'

It took several seconds for Lucy's words to permeate Warbeck's breast-fixated consciousness. In the silence, his recorded voice was pleading to be allowed to spurt all over his visitor's face and titties.

'What?' he said at last, lifting his gaze from Lucy's chest. 'My wife? The tape? You mean -?

'I'm blackmailing you, Simon,' Lucy said, delighted with the look, of abject confusion on his face, i want you to agree - on tape again, I'm afraid - to do the things I want you to do. If you co-operate, my breasts are all yours; if not, I expect your wife will want an explanation when she receives a copy of the tape we're listening to now.'

'What do you want me to do?'

i want you to tell me how to access HOLMES; how to add, delete and alter records; how to use HOLMES to pass information to local police forces.'

'But you're not on the list of permitted users. You haven't got an entry password!'

'Silly!' Lucy said, unzipping his trousers. 'I'll use yours!'

'But I can be identified! They'll think it's me tampering with the records!'

His penis was as limp as stewed rhubarb. Lucy tried to restore its circulation. 'Well,' she said reasonably, 'I don't want anyone to know I'm doing it, do I? Anyway, why should anyone check up? You technicians are dipping into the system every day, tinkering with the software and so on. It's almost entirely undetectable.'

'But if someone did find out . ..' Warbeck began, his protest fading as Lucy's agile fingers elicited a swelling reaction.

'Don't worry,' Lucy told him. 'I can patch things up in an emergency. You'd be surprised how many people I've recorded on my little machine. Superintendents, Chief Constables, all sorts. I'm sure I can persuade your superiors to overlook any small misdemeanours you might commit - as long as you agree to do what I tell you, of course.'

'And if I don't agree?'

Lucy released his throbbing organ, and cupped her breasts in her hands. 'No more rides in the valley of fun for your little willy,' she said. 'And unfortunately I just don't have the same influence with your wife that I have with Superintendent^ Mosley. I expect she'll get a copy of the tape on the very day that you get the sack.'

'You can't do this to me!'

'Oh yes I can, Simon. And I can do this, too. Isn't that nice?'

Julia stood at the open window, the autumn sunlight warm on her naked body. The gardens of the chateau were spread out below her within a complex pattern of box hedges, and beyond them russet-leaved woodland sloped away towards the river Bandiat, glinting in the sun as it made its way towards Angouleme.

'Come back to bed,
cherie^
said a throaty voice, breaking into Julia's quiet contemplation of the landscape. 'And bring your flicker with you.'

Julia turned, and smiled at the woman lying propped on an elbow in the middle of the vast four-poster. For a few moments she remained by the window, studying the woman's calm, aquiline features and her pale, slim body. Then she walked to the chair on which she had abandoned her clothes, and picked up the short whip of interleaved leather strips. The woman smiled briefly, but otherwise remained expressionless as she turned on to her stomach and lifted her slender buttocks into the air.

Julia shook the flicker, flexing her wrist, and felt a corresponding vibration in the wet, tender hollow between her legs. 'I thought I'd had enough,' she said, strolling towards the bed. 'And your tongue must be exhausted.'

'She is exhausted,' the woman replied, her voice muffled by the pillows. 'If you want her to do more, you will have to use some force ... Please,' she added with a giggle.

Julia looked down at the flawless cream curves, separated by a chasm as dark and deep as her own. The woman wriggled her rump expectantly, and Julia smiled delightedly as the pert hillocks of flesh oscillated before coming to rest.

'Move your legs apart, then,' Julia said, touching the tip of her flicker to the insides of the woman's blue-veined thighs. The woman moved her knees, and Julia climbed on to the bed to kneel between them. She inserted the end of the flicker in the puckered funnel of dark skin between the pale orbs, and the woman shivered. Maintaining the pressure on the flicker, Julia leant forward to inspect the dark, downy fruit that nestled below the swelling buttocks.

She forgot the temptation, which had seemed so irresistible only a moment earlier, to criss-cross the creamy mounds with a pattern of pink stripes. She was lost in the musky odour of the woman's sex, and lay face down between the outstretched legs to push her nose into the welcoming slit. Her tongue darted forward, licking more and more deeply into the moist opening, savouring the changes in flavour as the sharp tang of the outer lips gave way to the heavier, sweeter saltiness in the depths of the woman's vagina. She felt the contractions of the woman's inner muscles, and stretched the tip of her tongue forward to hunt for the woman's clitoris.

'Now it is your mouth who will become tired,' Julia heard the woman's low and richly-accented voice complain. 'You are my guest, and it is me who must give enjoyment to you.'

i'm . . . enjoying . . . this .. .' Julia said, plunging her tongue into the woman after each word. Then she sighed, and pulled herself up to her knees. 'But you're right,' she said decisively, and slapped the woman's right buttock. 'Come on, turn over. Let's get the talking finished now. Then we can spend all evening having fun.'

'We can talk tomorrow morning,
cherie
,' the woman said, rolling over to gaze up at Julia with disappointed eyes.

Julia smiled and shook her head. 'Tomorrow morning we will feel rested, and full of energy, and we'll just start playing again. And then it will be time for me to go home. Let's conclude the deal now.'

'As far as I am concerned,' the woman said, pulling Julia down to lie beside her, 'we have already agreed on the business. Your
Maitresse
wants to start her affairs in this country; she wants a - what is the word?'

'A base. An operational centre from which to expand.'

'Exactement
. I have this chateau, and my girls and the other staff. She has the money, and a big organisation -and an enchanting ambassador. Of course we must do it.'

'Then let's open that bottle of bubbly,' Julia said, returning the woman's gentle kisses. 'We'll drink a toast - to
le Chateau PriveV

On the screen, a naked silver-haired man knelt on a bed between the uplifted knees of a flame-haired young woman. The soundtrack of the film had been turned off, but the woman was clearly talking to the man, smiling and pouting as her hands caressed his shoulders and her shins stroked his thighs.

BOOK: One Week in the Private House
13.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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