 |
|||
|
|
When Maggie woke up once more she was immobile and in the dark. Her first instinct was to panic, and she began pulling against her bonds. The uselessness of the efforts quickly realized. She could feel the leathers straps around her wrists pulling her arms out and above her. There were more straps around her ankles pulling her legs out and down. The straps securing her knees, thighs, and elbows were equal steadfast. She could also feel the pressure of straps wrapped around her body. The first strap was wider then those that secured her wrists and ankles and wrapped around her chest and back just above her breasts keeping her from moving her upper body. The second matched the first in pattern and size but it wrapped around her from the other side and came just below her breasts. Two more straps repeated the patter around her hips and prevented her from moving her hips.
The struggle though brief and the realization of what it meant quickly sent her body into the spiral of lust that she had been dreaming about since she was first caught on her mistress’ bed. She knew that she was not in the dungeon as there was some level of cushioning beneath her, and she suspected that she was still in her room.
What she didn’t know was that the wine that she had been given by Clarisse included some medicine Antonio had obtained from the local apothecary. She had indeed sleep very soundly so Clarisse and Antonio and no difficulty in binding her. She tested her bindings in silence unaware that bound and waiting on her knees was Clarisse. Her hands bound behind her back. Her breast wrapped with leather cords. Her head bent forward as she sucked on Antonio’s cock.
Antonio relished the pleasures that Clarisse’s mouth offered him. She had been his lover for several years but she was a price of his newly found power. She was trained slave rather than the recipient of his affections. Over the years he had found himself wishing that he could offer her his heart. She deserved it genuine affection and h knew that in part she had gotten that from Maggie after Maggie’s purchase at the insistence of the countess.
He had served the count and the estate for nearly twenty years. The first few years where filled with darkness and misery. There were times that he still shuddered at the memories of those early days. He still bore the scars on his back and in his mind.
The oldest scars came to him after he had tried to run away from his new owners. He was seventeen years old then. He knew that the skills he had learned on the streets of Paris would enable him to evade anyone who would pursue him. The streets of Paris did not prepare him to evade the skilled noses of trained hunting dogs. His freedom was short lived. He returned to the estate’s dungeon. The sound of the whip and his screams blended as they echoed off the stone walls. His blood stained the floor. The torment continuing until he passed into unconsciousness. It was weeks before he had the strength to return to labors of the field.
The young count was sitting in a chair staring at the deep cuts covering his exposed back when he finally awoke. A shuddered passed through Antonio’s body when the count spoke.
“That was a foolish thing to do Antonio. What you felt, and feel now was your choice. You must learn to govern our feelings. Feelings are never wisdom. Learn to control your body and your feelings and you will discover rewards that even most aristocrats never know.” The count stood and walked out of the room without another word.
The pain that pulsed through Antonio’s body with every beat of his heart fueled a rage within him. He had killed once and now desired to do it again. He swore that he would avenge himself.
The count returned to his room every day. He would ask questions about life, politics, art and Paris. Sometimes the answers Antonio gave would please him immensely. Other answers would cause him to launch into a discourse on what the answer should have been.
He seemed especially interested in the pain and the memories of the whipping. He seemed to take a sadistic glee in hearing about the pain and from the sight of wounds. Antonio was not a stranger to inflicting pain himself. His found his experiences however where always in the context of sex and with intention of bringing out the pleasure in the pain. The count seemed to find no erotic value in the pain. He simply seemed to enjoy inflicted it for the sake of the watching his victims responses to the pain.
Despite his sadistic nature as the weeks passed the Count and Antonio developed something that was close to a friendship. It could have been built out of mutual respect or understanding. It could have but it had not. Antonio had forged it out of necessity. The Count had forged it for personal gain.
Antonio had found that relationship valuable over the years. Most people feared the Count. Everyone seemed to despise him. That Antonio seemed to respect him and understood in part his sadistic nature gave him value to the strange Count.
It wasn’t long before the Count had him re-assigned from the fields to the house as his personal servant. Antonio’s days filled with hours of study. He learned to read and write. He was required to study many of the books in the family library and of course, the Count soon had him helping torture his many victims. The servants came to fear him as much as they feared the young Count. He learned to wield the whip and learned the finer points of using all that remained hidden under the estate floors.
After his father’s passing the young Count took procession of the estate. His mother pushed him into marrying so that he could establish a bloodline.
He chose a young bride of fourteen from the house of Lapointe named Maria. Her family’s wealth was comparable to his and the politics of the aristocracy was favorable to the union but it was a marriage of show and not one of affection. The Counts affections were reserved for stable boys and for the dungeon that remained his true mistress.
Antonio nurtured the count’s trust knowing the value it could hold for him. Even as a trusted confidant the sadistic side of the count would use any displeasure as cause to carry out its cruel ambitions. Many more scares would add to the pattern of scars on his back over time but none as harsh as the first. When the governor of the house died in his sleep the Count chose Antonio has is successor.
Shortly after his appointment as governor, Clarisse came to the house of Fountaine. She was beautiful and strong willed, but still burdened by the awkwardness of youth. Antonio had the power to take her and make her his. The Count had given him all that was his to manage and possess so long as he kept the Count’s secrets and made it possible for the Count to indulge his own hungers.
He sometimes regretted what he did to Clarisse. He knew that the reason his affections could never be given to her. He could never know that she would have given her own to him freely. Her mouth still sliding up and down the length of his engorged cock, Antonio knew that Maggie must be different. He wanted her to choose him even though it was a choice that she was not supposed to make. He resolved himself to the plan that he chosen and pushed Clarisse away from his saliva coated cock. He left Clarisse on her knees and moved to the side of the bed.
“It’s time to learn another lesson.” She knew the voice it was Sir. Antonio had returned and bound her in her sleep. The voice was soft and filled with a smugness that made her angry, though she didn’t dare say anything. Seeing Maggie stir against the bounds, he had pushed Clarisse away, and silently moved to Maggie’s side. She felt his hand start to caress her breast this time gently almost lovingly.
“What are you?” The question made her heart flutter.
“I’m a whore, sir.”
Antonio pinched her nipple. She screamed in surprise!
“A whore is what you where. You are a slave. A whore fucks whomever she chooses for what ever she chooses. You are a slave and shall not fuck anyone for any reason unless your master or mistress tells you. If I find out that you’ve been acting like a whore again you’ll be punished severely. Do I make myself clear?” he continued to squeeze her nipple as he spoke.
“Yes, sir.” She said panting. Some how the distinction made her feel better. She had been a slave since the age of twelve when her parents sold her. Her place as a whore had been new and against the tenants of the church.
He released her nipple, and returned to the soft caress with which he started. “What do slaves do?”
“We do whatever you want sir?” His hand stopped it’s gentle touch and snapped back to slap down on her breast and nipple. The pain shoot through her once again.
“You are to do what ever your master or mistress wants from you. I did not say that I was willing to be that to you.”
No, sir. Thank you for correcting me sir.”
The pleasure of his touch returned and began to blend with the throbbing in her nipple fueling the need for more.
“Good girl. Are you ready to learn how to be a good slave?” That terrible and wonderful voice had become almost hypnotic. His caress began to move from her breasts across her stomach.
“Please sir.. I want to learn to be a good slave.”
“Such a good girl.” The words seem to fill her head. It made her want to please him. It made her mind, her heart, her depths want to please him.
“Pleeeaassee Sir.. oh god please.”
“Please what?”
“Please sir, let me please you. Let me do what you want. Please sir, touch me. Fuck me. Oh god, anything sir.” Her voice filled with lust, and need. He smiled again and let the path of his finger tips move farther down her stomach.
“You found the pleasure in pain didn’t you slave?”
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.. yes.. Siiiiirrrr..” She was getting close again.
“That was lesson one. You needed to accept that truth about yourself. Now you’re going to learn lesson 2.”
“Pleeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssseeeeeee.. siiiiirrrr..” his finger tips where so close. She tried to thrust her body towards him. She tried to move to get them closer still by the straps held her immobile. All she could do was lay trembling at his touch.
“Such a good girl.” He snapped his fingers and Clarisse struggle to her feet and moved too his side.
“We are not going to have the same problem as before are we Clarisse?”
“No Sir.”
“Very well, Let’s begin.” He pulled the cord that bound Clarisse’ hands and let the strap fall to the floor. He moved silently back to the chair he had been sitting in before, and slowly began stroking his cock as he watched Clarisse start Maggie’s next lesson.
Clarisse climbed onto the bed so that she was leaning over Maggie’s head facing her feet. As softly as she could she began to kiss Maggie’s forehead, and worked her way down her nose. She brushed her cheeks, nibbled and kissed her lips.
Maggie quickly lost herself in the gentle assault on her senses. Each kiss, each breath, each brush of skin amplified in the darkness. Clarisse pushed herself back just enough to start at Maggie’s ears and work her way back down following the line of Maggie’s throat to the dimple at the base of her throat. Her body once again covered in sweat as she trembled uncontrollably against her bonds. She desperately wanted to move, to be free to touch her lover. She wanted to be able to guide her and urge her forward to give her the satisfaction she craved. She begged and pleaded mercy, for pleasure, for pain, for satisfaction but her voice was a whisper even to herself.
Clarisse continued her gentle cruel journey down Maggie’s desperate form. She was enjoying her part of the journey. Relishing the feel of Maggie’s body as it trembled against her lips. She found herself stopping to savor the taste of Maggie’s sweat and the fragrance of her dripping sex. Clarisse let her own hardened nipples gentle slide over Maggie’s unmoving form as she worked her way down Maggie’s body with excruciating patience. She carefully moved past Maggie’s pleading sex down her legs, letting the heat of her hardened nipples caress the inside of Maggie’s thighs before moving down to her toes, and then back again.
Maggie would get so lost in the feeling that Clarisse created in her body that she would forget to breath. When her need for air became demanding she would suck air into her lungs in desperate bursts. Each breath reminded her of her bounds and renewed her awareness of the straps that held her only to have them disappear again and her mind called back by the relentless kisses and touch of Clarisse. Her mind was lost in the ripples of pleasure that drove her to the edge of the white warmth before fading into frustration. Her desperate wish would draw painfully close, and then flee, only to return again somehow even closer then before. The gentleness of each kiss and touch becoming more difficult to bear as the gentle became the pain.
Antonio watched in admiration as Clarisse pushed Maggie’s body to the edge of ecstasy only to deny her, and bring her back again and again. Maggie lay beneath Clarisse lost in every sensation. Her whispers had become a strange symphony of grasped breaths, and moans. Antonio stood and moved to the side of the bed. He stopped and ran his fingers down Clarisse’s sweating back over her perfectly shaped ass, and slid a finger into her dripping sex. Clarisse moaned and thrust herself back onto his probing fingers, only to have him withdraw them again. He licked his fingers and bent down so that his face was next to Maggie’s.
“Pain and pleasure, my dearest one tell me which do you want?”
Maggie didn’t answer at first. It wasn’t until Clarisse stopped her assault and Antonio asked her again.
“Which do you want?”
It was his voice, the consuming presence that she heard. Calling to part of her that she never even knew existed.
“They.. are the.. same sir. The pain.. is.. pleasure... annnddd the.. pleasure... iiisssss pain.. Please sir, anything…” Even that close to her Antonio has to strain to hear her lust filled whisper.
He wiped away the tears that where streaming down her cheek. “I want you to cum for me now Sweet Maggie.”
The words were freedom for Maggie and for Clarisse they where a call to action. She drover her tongue into the soft folds of Maggie’s sex, and began to flick her tongue over Maggie’s hardened clit.
She obeyed the command as waves of pleasure washed over Maggie in a title wave of blinding pleasure. Her body pulled against its bonds with a strength that came from her core but they gave no ground. Her head arched back as she screamed an animal scream of lust. Her fingers clenched together. Her knuckles went white, and her toes curled as the spasms washed over her in a seemingly endless series of waves. The rest of her body trapped unable to do anything other then feel.
The darkness returned to Maggie again as Antonio rewarded the nearly exhausted Clarisse by standing over Maggie and driving his cock into Clarisse’ waiting ass as she too disappeared over the edge of the abyss just as she had been commanded by her master. The waves of ecstasy washed over her just as they did Him as he filling her ass with his essence.
|
|
|