UNDER MY THUMB
By Fidelis Blue and Kitten
Chapter Four
After several weeks, Matt had done quite a bit of reading around the subject of
BDSM lifestyles. He was amazed at how much stuff there was out there. The sites
he found the weirdest were those where apparently otherwise sane men and women
discussed the minutiae of daily domestic routine in a relationship where the man
was officially given the rank of HOH, or Head of Household. These people didn't
just want to play roles in the bedroom. They wanted to act out their domination
fantasies in real life. To Matt this just seemed peculiar. In a way he admired
their wholehearted pursuit of the lifestyle in a manner which ran counter to a
hundred years of social history, but he felt such attempts could only end in
tears. The fact that these advocates often quoted the bible as giving support
for their patriarchal practices seemed only to emphasise how far they were from
any sustainable reality.
Nevertheless, he found some of their little rituals entertaining, even
ingenious. He liked the petty rules and pointless restrictions which the
dominants were fond of imposing. One man listed the various dietary regulations
to which his sub was subjected. On one day she might eat only cold food, on the
next drink no alcohol, on the next eat nothing coloured red, on the next may
employ only her left hand in eating. The restrictions were hardly arduous in
themselves, but their arbitrary nature reminded the sub constantly of her status
as one who must obey, not for any rational reason but just because her Master
ordered.
One thing which appealed greatly to Matt was a site offering a variety of
equipment, mainly leather. There were all manner of collars, cuffs, corsets and
suchlike. Having observed Elizabeth with her horse, Matt had conceived a strong
desire to harness her in some way, and after an hour or two scrolling through
the site's inventory he made a number of purchases, which were delivered three
days later.
The following week Matt said he would throw a party. Elizabeth had met
scarcely any of his friends, he said, and it was time to introduce her.
'Can I invite people too?' she asked.
'No,' said Matt. 'I don't want any of your rich snooty acquaintances
looking down on us artistic folk.'
Elizabeth turned away and made a face, though she made sure Matt didn't
see. She didn't relish the idea of an evening solely in the company of painters
and models. The one or two whom she had already met had struck her as rather
dowdy. One was a man of about Matt's age with a straggly beard, wearing jeans
that could have done with a wash, as she had pointed out to Matt afterwards.
'That man,' said Matt, 'is probably the most talented artist you will ever
have the fortune to meet. He's had exhibitions in New York, Paris and London.'
'Well, I've never heard of him,' said Elizabeth in a tone of voice that
suggested hers was the only judgement that mattered. 'And if he's so successful,
can't he afford a trip to the laundromat now and again? Perhaps calling in at
the barber on the way?'
'Your problem is, you're a snob. And you judge people only by appearances.'
'And you don't?' she retorted. 'If I was fat and fifty you'd be just as
keen to get into my knickers?'
'Don't take that tone with me,' said Matt. He didn't mind a discussion, she
had a right to her views on anything, but he didn't care for the way she tried
to score points off him.
A couple of days later they met a woman in the street. She was about forty,
a little overweight, wearing a shapeless skirt of indeterminate length, and a
brightly coloured blouse over large, and to Elizabeth's mind inadequately
supported, breasts. Her face was pretty enough, but devoid of make-up. Matt had
introduced her as Cassie and conversed warmly with her, while Elizabeth stood to
one side, mentally picking further holes in the woman's appearance.
'So,' she said when Matt had kissed the woman goodbye, 'who on earth was
that?'
'Perhaps the best model I ever had,' said Matt.
'Her?' said Elizabeth. 'You'd want to paint her?'
'She was gorgeous when she was younger. Age sneaks up on us all, as you
will one day find.'
'So you fucked her?' Elizabeth did not bother to conceal the note of
contempt in her voice.
'I'm not sure I care to be questioned in that tone,' Matt said. 'But since
you ask, yes I did, several times. And enjoyed it.'
Elizabeth turned up her nose. 'Well, you wouldn't fuck her now, would you!'
'She's a very nice woman and I think of her with respect,' Matt said.
She could hear a note in his voice that warned her to be careful.
Recklessly, she carried on.
'Those clothes,' she said. 'What a frump!'
He gave her a look that was by now familiar. She'd had one spanking that
week already. Well, she thought, I can take another. It was worth it to get him
interested. And he was getting more skilled with the beatings now, learning how
to pace it so that the pain turned to pleasure.
Matt knew she was trying to provoke him. He thought about taking her
straight home and putting her over his knee, or even tying her to the bench and
thrashing her soundly. But he had a better idea. Meeting Cassie made him realise
he missed some of his old friends, hadn't seen much of them since he'd taken up
with Elizabeth. So he'd invite them round. And Elizabeth would be polite; or
else.
Elizabeth arrived late in the afternoon of the party in an old sweater and
jeans, ready to help arrange furniture, prepare food, set out the drinks. They
worked steadily together, chattering away. Elizabeth was good company when she
wasn't being a stuck-up little rich girl. And, he thought as he watched her
bending over at the sink in her tight jeans, she had the best-looking ass he'd
ever seen. He felt his cock rising. He was tempted to take her upstairs before
the guests came, but he decided he needed to maintain a certain distance if he
was to carry out his plan for the evening.
An hour before the guests were due Elizabeth went upstairs to shower and
change. Matt stood leaning against the door in the bathroom, watching as the
water splashed down her naked body.
'See anything you like?' she said. She put her hand between her legs,
soaping herself more vigorously than was strictly necessary.
He smiled. 'Behave yourself.'
When she came down she was wearing a white silk blouse. Underneath, he
could see the outline of the lace and satin bra she had bought with his approval
the week before. She twirled around so that her full black velvet skirt flared.
Then she stood with hand on hip. She knew she wasn't supposed to stand like
that.
'Want to see the rest?' she said.
Matt said nothing. Elizabeth lifted the skirt up to her waist. He looked at
the matching satin knickers drawn up over the suspender belt which supported her
sheer black stockings. He felt his cock beginning to rise once more.
'Respectable on top,' he said. 'And underneath?'
She chuckled. 'I am what you've made me.'
'Oh no,' he said. 'You can't blame me. I know what you were long ago,
before you met me.'
'Maybe I was a little bit,' she said. 'But you've refined me. I'm so much
more so now - whatever it is that I am.'
She came and kissed him. There was a ring at the door and she broke away.
'Wait a minute,' he said. He took hold of the gold necklace she wore,
turning it round, undoing the tiny catch and putting it in his pocket.
'Hey,' she said. 'I like that necklace.'
He said nothing, but from the same pocket produced a collar of soft black
leather. It was about an inch wide, fastening at the back with a silver buckle.
At the front was a small silver ring. He began to attach it around her neck.
'Just a minute,' she protested. 'I can't wear something like that in
public.'
When he had buckled it to his satisfaction he stepped back to admire it.
'You can and you will,' he said.
She coloured slightly. He could tell by the set of her mouth she wanted to
protest, but he knew she wouldn't start a row with guests arriving. Her eyes
flashed rebelliously as he moved towards the door.
Matt returned with a man and a woman, a middle-aged couple. Both were
dressed informally, in jeans and sweaters. He saw how Elizabeth looked them up
and down as they approached, judging them.
'This is Elizabeth, my new housekeeper,' he said.
Elizabeth stared at Matt. 'I beg - ' she began.
'She helps with chores one or two days a week,' said Matt. 'Lizzie, will
you bring us some drinks?'
For a moment it looked as if she was ready for a row there and then. But
Matt had already turned to engage his guests in conversation, ignoring her.
Lizzie! How dare he! Only her father's head groom, an elderly black man, had
ever called her that. She hated diminutives and nicknames. They were so
demeaning!
In the kitchen she put some glasses of wine on a tray and brought them out.
Just as she was passing the tray around the doorbell rang again.
'Get that, will you, Lizzie?' Matt said.
If looks could kill, Matt was a dead man, but he scarcely bothered to
glance at her as he issued his instruction. Elizabeth stomped off to the door,
vowing she wouldn't stand for any more of this. She opened the door and a
beautiful blonde woman in a surprisingly short skirt entered. Taking off her
jacket, she handed it to Elizabeth, hardly glancing at her before sauntering
through into the sitting room and greeting Matt effusively. Elizabeth stared
after her. Surely she wasn't dressed like a servant? What made this woman treat
her like one?
Elizabeth went into the kitchen to get the woman a drink. When she came out
the woman had her arm around Matt's shoulder, holding him close. This was
altogether too much. Dowdy frumps were one thing. She would not tolerate brassy
blondes fondling her boyfriend.
'Drink?' Elizabeth said coldly, holding out the glass. The woman took it
with a condescending smile.'
'Thank you, dear,' she said.
The doorbell rang again. Matt showed no inclination to answer it. Elizabeth
admitted four people who had all arrived at once. More down-at-heel arty types,
she thought. Soon there were twenty or thirty guests, all conversing animatedly,
many of them grouped around Matt, who had so far not introduced her to a single
one. Elizabeth went into the kitchen and poured herself some wine. She stared
out of the window, wondering whether to march out, slamming the door behind her.
She knew Matt would be very cross if she did. Well, so be it, she thought. I'm
not putting up with this.
She turned to go and saw Matt standing in the doorway.
'I suppose you think this is very funny,' she said, 'treating me like a
skivvy.'
'I don't think it funny at all,' he said. 'I was never more serious.'
'Well, I'm not standing for it another moment,' she said, trying to brush
past him.
He grabbed her arm, then held his hand up, offering his ring to be kissed.
'No,' she snapped. 'I won't let you do that.'
'You will,' he said in a steely voice. 'Or you'll be very sorry indeed.'
'No, please Matt,' she wheedled, changing tactics. 'Please. It's
humiliating.'
'Kiss it,' he said.
For a moment she considered an outright refusal. But she feared he might
renounce her altogether if she disobeyed. She bent her head and kissed the ring
softly.
'Go to the bathroom and take off your bra,' Matt said. 'Then bring us more
drinks.'
'Take off my bra?' she protested. 'But this blouse is see-through.'
'How immodest,' Matt said with insouciance. 'But you're not actually
refusing an order, are you?'
Elizabeth sighed. With a sulky look she went towards the stairs. In the
bathroom she stripped off her blouse and removed her bra. When the blouse was
back on, the shadows of her nipples seemed all too plain to see. Elizabeth
thought if they became erect they would be unmistakable.
When she came down again she went into the kitchen. There was a man there,
younger than most of the guests, not bad-looking, Elizabeth thought. He stared
at her, his eyes openly gazing at her bust. Instinctively she crossed her arms,
trying not to blush. The man's eyes rose as far as her neck.
'Nice collar,' he said. He smiled slightly, as if he knew a secret, and
went out.
Elizabeth poured some more drinks. She took them out on a tray, set the
tray on a table and stood with arms crossed by the window. After a few minutes
Matt came over.
'You know very well you aren't allowed to stand like that,' he said. 'Put
your arms by your sides.'
'I can't do that,' she hissed. 'Men keep staring at my tits.'
'I'm not surprised,' Matt said, looking down at them. 'They're very nice.
But of course you're not supposed to be talking back.'
She glared at him.
'Nor looking me in the eye,' he said sternly.
Slowly she lowered her glance. Matt took her hand and led her across to
some of the guests.
'Lizzie is a little shy,' he said. 'She's not quite sure if she's invited
to the party or not.'
'I hope she is,' said the young man she'd encountered in the kitchen, his
eyes on her chest again. She wanted to say something rude in return, but she
didn't dare. The guests continued their conversation, ignoring her except for
the man who kept staring at her breasts. She longed to cross her arms again to
keep his eyes off them, but such deliberate defiance of an order would be a
serious matter.
Standing on the edge of the little group, she looked across at Matt,
pleading for some respite from her embarrassment. He caught her eye, but instead
of smiling encouragement he slowly tipped his glass to one side, spilling white
wine on the wooden floor.
'Dear me,' he said. 'Get a cloth and wipe it up, Lizzie dear.'
Bristling with rage, she went to the kitchen. She came back and knelt at
his feet, wiping the floor. As she did so, Matt deliberately put his foot over a
patch of spilled wine. Elizabeth put her head back and looked up at him,
pleading for some consideration. Matt cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, as
if to say, you wouldn't be thinking of a protest, would you?
Elizabeth swallowed hard and waited for him to remove his foot. When all
the wine was cleaned up she went back in the kitchen. She turned to see that the
young man had followed her.
'That collar,' he said. 'I think I know what that's for.'
'I doubt you do,' she said. 'And anyway, it's none of your business.'
'If I was your Master,' he said, 'you wouldn't speak to me like that.'
Elizabeth blushed and walked back into the sitting room. She stood close to
Matt, brushing her hip against his. He didn't move away as she thought he might.
Feeling somewhat mollified, she went to the kitchen of her own free will to get
some more wine for the guests. Getting some ice from the fridge was the striking
blonde woman who had been so friendly with Matt.
She looked Elizabeth up and down, in an inquisitive but not unfriendly
manner.
'You're not really his housekeeper, are you?'
'No,' said Elizabeth. 'I'm not. I'm his girlfriend.'
'I used to be,' she said. 'But you needn't worry, it's been over for ages.
We're just good friends.'
Elizabeth smiled. 'Glad to hear it.'
'He's a nice man,' the woman said. 'but I always felt he was looking for
something more than I could give him.'
'Really? What exactly?'
'I rather think,' the woman said, touching Elizabeth's collar with her
finger, 'that he might have found it.'
Elizabeth blushed. It seemed to be her night for blushes.
The party seemed to be breaking up. Gradually the guests departed, until
Elizabeth and Matt were alone. He came close and kissed her sweetly on the
mouth.
'You think I was very unkind, don't you?'
'Somewhat,' she replied.
'But do you know why?'
She considered her answer. 'You thought I was snooty about your friends, so
you thought you'd teach me a lesson, make the people I looked down on look down
on me in return.'
'And have you learned your lesson?'
'I don't care if your friends look down on me,' she said. 'As long as you
don't. You may use me as you wish, abuse me and abase me, but I must feel that
the more I humble myself the more respect I earn.'
He kissed her again. 'I'm proud of you,' he said. 'Never more so than
tonight. A lesser woman would have turned and run.'
'Whatever I am, I'm not a coward,' she said. 'But I'm very desirous.'
'Good,' said Matt. 'But we haven't finished yet. Now take off your blouse
and your skirt.'
She did as he said, standing in the centre of the room, looking him in the
eye even though it was forbidden as she unbuttoned her silk blouse, unzipped her
skirt and let them both fall to the floor. She could feel her nipples rising.
Matt looked her up and down. 'And the knickers.'
She peeled off the satin knickers and stood before him, in nothing but her
suspenders, stockings and shoes. From his pocket Matt produced a long silver
chain.
'Down on your knees,' he said.
She squatted on her haunches. Matt clipped the chain to the ring at the
front of her collar.
'Now,' he said, 'you're my little lap dog. We're going to do some training.
Come!'
He pulled on the chain and walked forward. Elizabeth was dragged along,
crawling fast to keep up. Then he stopped.
'Heel,' he said.
She squatted, feeling a little foolish and awkward.
'Sit,' he ordered.
She hesitated, not knowing quite know what he meant.
'Squat back on your haunches,' he said.
He left her there for a moment, returned with a riding crop. Elizabeth
wondered where he'd got it; it wasn't one of hers. He flicked it against her
nipples, first one then the other. She flinched.
'My little lap dog does what she's told, instantly,' he said.
'But I don't -'
'Silence,' he snapped, flicking her hard across the nipples again.
He picked up the chain and marched off. Elizabeth scrambled after him. He
walked up the stairs. On the landing he strode along quickly, then suddenly
stopped. Elizabeth stumbled, getting in advance of him before halting.
'Heel,' he said. He smacked the riding crop across her bottom. 'Never get
in front of your Master.'
She got back behind his feet.
'Sit.'
She sat back on her haunches again, bracing herself in case he should once
more flick her nipples. Instead, he turned and marched back along the landing
and down the stairs. Going down was so difficult, and halfway she stumbled and
fell down a couple of steps in a heap.
'Clumsy little pup,' he said. 'Kneel for your punishment, head pressed
down, bottom in the air.'
She pressed her head against the stair below her and thrust her behind
upwards. She felt the riding crop lash across her unprotected buttocks, three
times on each side. It stung badly.
He jerked once more on the chain, pulling her down the stairs and into the
sitting room.
'Sit,' he said.
He went into the kitchen and returned with a plate of food, a chicken leg,
some cherry tomatoes, some potato salad.
'Hungry?' he said.
'Yes,' she said. 'I haven't eaten anything yet.'
He sat down in a chair and snapped his fingers, pointing to a spot on the
floor just by his feet.
'Sit.'
She got into position.
'Now let's see my little puppy dog beg,' he said.
He held the chicken leg in the air, just above her head. She looked up at
it.
'Beg,' he said again. 'Lift up your hands, palms outward.'
She did as he told her, but she felt silly.
'Beg a little more,' he said. 'Higher.'
She strained upwards. He put the chicken leg in her open mouth. She put her
hand out to grasp it.
'No,' he said. 'Puppy eats just with her mouth.'
She knelt there, looking at him. What on earth was she supposed to do?
'You've seen other dogs eat,' he said. 'Do it like them.'
She lowered her head to the floor, began to chew on the chicken leg. It was
awkward, it kept getting away from her. She put out a hand to steady it. Dogs
don't have fingers, she thought, so she didn't grasp it, just held it to her
mouth so she could chew.
'Good little doggie,' he said. 'Here.'
She looked up. He was holding one of the little tomatoes in the palm of his
hand.
'Eat,' he said.
She took it from his hand, chewing on it then swallowing. He put another in
his hand, she did likewise, bending her head to his hand, taking it in her
teeth.
'Now potato salad,' he said.
He put the plate on the floor. She knelt and began to eat from it.
'I want it all gone,' he said, 'and the plate licked clean.'
It was good potato salad; she'd made it herself, but she'd never thought
this was the way she'd be eating it.
He went out into the kitchen and poured some red wine into a shallow bowl.
When he came back she was licking round the edges of the plate. He put the bowl
down beside her.
'Lap it up,' he said.
He watched as she tried to get the wine up with her tongue. It looked easy
when she'd seen dogs do it, but it wasn't. She could only get a few drops into
her mouth at a time. She looked up at Matt, asking with her eyes if she could
stop now.
'All of it,' he said,
At last it was finished. He caught hold of the chain, dragging her behind
him up the stairs again, along the landing and into the bedroom. She saw that
her stockings were getting bedraggled now; there was a hole in one, just on the
knee. She seemed to have lost her shoes.
'On the bed,' he said. 'I'm going to fuck you. Doggie fashion, of course.'
She knelt on the edge of the bed, bottom outwards, her head pressed into
the covers. Without ceremony he unzipped himself and pushed his cock straight
in. It was so good like this, she loved it, it went in so deep. He continued to
fuck her with a steady rhythm, holding her ass with his hands, placing her just
as he wanted. Just before he came he pushed his finger a little way into her
ass, then ejaculated. She felt it pumping into her, filling her.
He withdrew and zipped himself up.
'I'm going down for a nightcap,' he said. 'Puppies can lick themselves. I
guess you can't do that, but you can do something else if you wish. When you've
finished come and join me.'
He held out his ring for her to kiss. The training session was over. She
heard his footsteps going down the stairs as she put her hand between her legs
and began to play.
Two weeks later, Elizabeth announced to Matt that she too would be holding
a party. Her company had been doing so well that she intended have a
celebration, not in her apartment but at a down-town hotel.
'It's a black-tie affair,' she said. 'Dust off your tuxedo.'
Matt didn't like to tell her he didn't even own one. But he didn't want to
be shown up by Elizabeth's smart friends, so the next day he bought one, and a
fancy dress shirt to go with it. The invitation arrived, elegantly embossed on a
white card. He put it on his mantelpiece. 'Elizabeth Lawrence requests the
pleasure of your company. Cocktails, Dinner, Dancing.' Matt stared at the card.
Images were beginning to form in his mind. Elizabeth in a long gown, her hair
pinned up; well-to-do businessmen, their hair sleekly brushed, dancing with her;
and Elizabeth on her knees.... He smiled to himself. He was beginning to look
forward to the party.
The day before he called her and said he'd meet her there. He knew she'd be
busy with all the arrangements, that she'd want to supervise everything
personally down to the last detail. He'd only be in the way.
When he arrived a small band was playing in the corner of the hotel's main
ballroom. He thought he might be early, but already thirty or so guests were
sipping drinks, brought by waiters in white jackets who hovered discreetly at
the edge of the room. Matt picked himself a glass of wine, then went across to
greet Elizabeth.
She looked dazzling, in a close-fitting gown of ivory-coloured satin. The
neckline was daringly low, offering a generous view of her breasts, the bodice
held by the thinnest of straps over the shoulders. The gown hugged her waist and
tapered down over her hips and thighs, outlining the shapeliness of her figure.
Matt made a note to get the back view as soon as possible. Elizabeth's ass
should look a treat in such a dress.
At her throat was a choker of black velvet with a diamond stud in the
centre. Matt smiled to himself, remembering the leather collar he'd made her
wear at his party. Doubtless she considered herself safe from such
embarrassments at her own affair.
Her hair was piled on top of her head, pinned up with glittering gold
clasps. Her make-up was sparing, except that her full lips were painted with
scarlet gloss. Matt longed to kiss her. Elizabeth's outfit was completed by
black high heels and, a touch he thought suited her so well in its
sophistication, a pair of elbow-length gloves matching her satin dress.
Matt kissed her lightly on the cheek.
'Beautiful,' he said. 'I'm so proud of you.'
She smiled, delighted at his pleasure. She introduced him to some of her
business friends and Matt tried to make conversation, but it was evident they
had little in common. Elizabeth, by contrast, was the life and soul, the centre
of all attention. After drinks, a buffet dinner was served and Matt managed to
get near her once more, but it was hard to compete for her attention when she
was the flame to which all the moths were drawn.
Matt eventually found himself talking to one of the waiters, a good-looking
boy who said he was an art student working his way through college. He and Matt
discussed their favourite painters at length. Eventually he felt his arm being
tugged and turned to see Elizabeth.
'I hope you don't feel I've been neglecting you?'
'Not particularly,' Matt said. 'Have you met Robbie?'
He indicated the young waiter, who smiled winningly, clearly impressed by
Elizabeth's glamour. But talking to waiters was clearly not her idea of a
sophisticated evening. She nodded, scarcely enough to avoid rudeness, then
walked away. Annoyed at this demonstration of bad manners, Matt declined to
follow her, but continued talking with the young man. Elizabeth glanced back,
then found some more friends and engrossed herself in conversation. From time to
time she found herself looking over at Matt, wondering what on earth he could
have to talk to the boy about.
Several people were dancing now, and Matt watched as one of her friends led
Elizabeth on to the dance floor. Still talking to the young waiter, Matt
observed how graceful she was, her hips moving with sinuous grace, her breasts
bobbing beneath the tight satin.
Elizabeth danced with several men; there seemed to be a queue of potential
partners, and Matt saw how her eyes sparkled as she dazzled them. She seemed to
favour one in particular, a tall handsome man about her own age, with curly
blonde hair.
After a while Matt went over and invited Elizabeth to dance with him.
'You like that guy?' he asked as she swayed in front of him
She shrugged.
'He certainly likes you.'
'That's evident,' she said.
'He'd like to fuck you,' Matt said.
'Lots of men would like to fuck me,' Elizabeth said. He could see she'd had
a few drinks.
'I'm not talking about lots of men,' Matt said. 'I'm talking about him.'
'What about him?'
'He'd like to fuck you, I said.'
'So what?' she said, staring at Matt. She couldn't see where he was going
with this.
'Perhaps you should oblige him,' Matt said.
She stopped dancing. 'What?'
'Give him what he wants.'
'You must be kidding!'
'Am I?'
'Please, Matt. Don't fool around with me.'
He held up his ring for her to kiss.
'No, please, not that. Not now, Matt. I'm having such a good time.'
'You'll have an even better one. Kiss it. Or else you'll be in serious
breach of your undertaking. And you know what that could lead to.'
She knew he could banish her if he felt he had to. However much he wanted
to keep her, she knew he couldn't afford to have her directly challenge him. If
it came to a choice between losing her and losing his authority, he'd choose to
lose her altogether.
'Bastard,' said Elizabeth. She kissed the ring.
'I'll remember you said that.'
'But it's still my party. I can still have fun, can't it?'
'Sure you can,' said Matt.
He took her hand and led her across to the young man she'd been dancing
with.
'Hi,' said Matt, holding out his other hand. 'Elizabeth hasn't introduced
us.'
'Oh, hi. Brad,' the man said.
'Do you think she's attractive?' Matt asked, still holding Elizabeth's
hand.
'Well, sure.' Brad laughed.
'Do you think she's got great tits?' Matt said.
Elizabeth tried to draw away her hand. Matt held it more tightly. He could
see her blushing.
'Well,' Brad hesitated.
'No?' Matt insisted.
'Well, sure,' said Brad. He couldn't figure what was going on. But Matt
could see from the way he looked at Elizabeth that he was going to hang around
to find out.
'Turn around,' Matt said to Elizabeth.
Looking daggers, she turned her back towards them.
'Great ass, too, don't you think,' said Matt.
'What is this?' said Brad. He was getting nervous now.
'I'll tell you what it is,' Matt said. 'It's Elizabeth. She told me she
thinks you're gorgeous. She'd like to take you outside.'
'Come on,' Brad said. He started to move away.
'I'm serious,' Matt said. 'You can have her if you like. You'll never get a
better offer. Tell him, Elizabeth. You want to take him outside right now,
true?'
Matt squeezed her hand harder than ever.
'Right?' said Matt.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. 'Yes, it's true,' she said. 'I said I wanted
you and I'd like to take you outside. Will you come?'
Brad stared at her. 'There's a catch.'
'No catch,' she said. 'I just want to do it. Sometimes the urge is too
great.'
Matt whispered in her era. 'A blow job, no more.'
'Please,' Matt said to Brad. 'Be my guest. Enjoy.'
He walked away, leaving them together. He looked back and saw them in
earnest conversation. Whatever Elizabeth's reluctance, Matt knew she could
hardly withdraw her offer now. Then he saw Elizabeth take Brad by the hand and
lead him through some French windows at the far end of the ballroom.
It was a balmy night outside. They walked down to the end of the terrace.
There were a couple of wooden chairs with cushions on.
'Take a seat,' said Elizabeth.
She took the cover off the other chair and placed it on the ground. She
knelt on top and began to unfasten Brad's trousers.
'Jesus,' he said. 'I can't believe this.'
'Shhh,' said Elizabeth. She'd heard the sound of voices nearby, possibly
other guests taking the air.
She reached inside and found Brad's cock. It was a good size, rising and
getting harder by the second. She bent and took it in her mouth, sucking hard.
She rubbed the shaft, squeezing with her hand. She wanted this to be quick. Brad
was groaning, but to tell him to be quiet she would have had to take his cock
from her mouth, and she was afraid that might disrupt the momentum. Then she
heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel of the path just below them.
Elizabeth continued to suck on Brad's cock, but twisted her head to see a couple
not twenty feet away. She recognised the woman, an old friend from school. Was
she too recognisable, with her head buried in a man's lap? She forced herself to
keep going. If she didn't finish the job Matt would be disappointed in her. She
kept her head down, rubbing Brad's cock all the faster. Elizabeth was relieved
when he shot his cum into her mouth. Giggling to each other, the watching couple
moved on.
She turned and spat, then stood up and walked away.
'Elizabeth?' Brad called out.
She ignored him. She didn't want questions. She didn't want gratitude. Most
of all she didn't want Brad asking if she was OK. She was just fine. She'd been
appalled by what Matt had suggested. But now she'd done it she felt proud. Who
else would have had the daring to do such an outrageous thing?
Back in the ballroom she danced with more men. It was getting late now.
Some of the guests were drifting away. She and Matt had a room booked in the
hotel for the night. It would be so much more convenient, they had agreed. They
could just fall into bed when they wanted.
At last the room was cleared; all the guests had made their farewells.
Elizabeth and Matt danced a final waltz around the dance floor. He asked her
what had happened outside with Brad and she told him, not embellishing, but
leaving nothing out. Then the band were finished. Matt led Elizabeth up to the
room. He lay on the bed watching as she sat at the dressing table and unpinned
her hair.
'What we need is another drink,' said Matt.
'Surely not,' she smiled. She'd had a few already, she knew.
'Champagne,' said Matt. He picked up the phone and spoke into it.
'Really,' Elizabeth said. 'You are incorrigible.'
'Little do you know,' Matt replied.
Elizabeth smiled. 'Unzip me,' she said.
He stood up and undid her dress all down the back. She pulled it off her
shoulders and let it slither to the floor. Underneath she wore no bra, just a
tiny satin thong and thigh-high stockings. She sat down again and busied herself
in front of the mirror, removing make-up. There was a knock at the door.
'What?' said Elizabeth. 'Who's that?'
'Room service,' Matt said, springing up. He opened the door. Elizabeth
turned, her arms instinctively going up to hide her breasts. It was the waiter
whom Matt had been talking to. Elizabeth couldn't remember his name.
'Come in,' Matt said. 'Put it down there.'
The waiter put the champagne down beside the bed. Elizabeth sat in acute
embarrassment, trying to hide herself.
'Open it,' Matt said. 'Then pour us all a glass. The three of us.'
Elizabeth looked at Matt in surprise. The waiter glanced at her nervously,
uncertain whether to take Matt at his word.
'Pour,' Matt insisted.
The waiter opened the champagne and poured. How odd, thought Elizabeth.
There are three glasses. They've planned this, the two of them together. The
waiter brought a glass over to Elizabeth. Still hiding her breasts with one
hand, she took it from him.
'Now,' said Matt, 'a toast. Here's to sex. The more the merrier!'
Still not quite sure what he was up to, Elizabeth sipped from her glass.
Robbie sipped too, grinning now.
'Robbie thinks you're gorgeous,' Matt said. 'So I've told him he can have
you. I'm going to leave the two of you for half an hour. You will allow him to
do anything he pleases. Robbie, enjoy yourself, but you must be gone by the time
I get back.'
With that Matt left the room, closing the door after him. He went
downstairs to the hotel bar. There were still a few people around. One of them
was Brad, who seemed a little tipsy.
'Gee,' he said to Matt, coming over. 'That's quite a woman you've got
there.'
'Isn't she,' Matt agreed.
'You know, if ever you feel like offering her again, well...'
'I'll bear that in mind,' said Matt, then changed the subject.
Forty minutes later he let himself back into the hotel room. It was dark.
Elizabeth was lying in bed. Matt undressed and got in beside her, pressing
himself against her back. His cock was hard already. He placed it at the
entrance to her cunt, which was very wet, and slid straight in. Holding himself
still inside her, he reached round and put his hand between her legs, placing a
finger on her clit but not moving.
'Tell me about it,' he said.
'It was good,' she said. 'At first, I felt shame, that you'd just give me
away to this boy. I knew what he must think of me, that I was no more than a
whore. But then I thought about how I wanted to please you and I began to get
excited, and then I didn't care what he thought, I wasn't doing it for him but
for you. And for myself, of course. So I let him kiss me. He was clumsy, too
eager. He touched my breasts but seemed uncertain what to do after that. So I
took his clothes off and sucked his cock a little, and then I got astride him
and eased myself down on to his cock and fucked him. It didn't take long - he
was so excited. I leaned forward some and let him play with my nipples while I
moved on his cock. It only took ten minutes, and after he looked at his watch
and said he still had twenty minutes left. So I showed him how to make me come
with his finger, and that made him big again so I let him fuck me on my back,
and that time he took a little longer and I came again. And that was that.'
'Good,' said Matt. 'Very good. There's the little matter of the name you
called me earlier. We'll deal with that tomorrow. But for now I'm pleased with
you. Well done.'
'Can I ask a question?'
'Sure.'
'Next time, do you think you'll want to watch?'
'Tut, tut,' he said. 'You're a very bad girl.'
He began to fuck her slowly while he coaxed her with his finger to the
final orgasm of the evening.
