Authors: Marie Haynes
Alicia closed her eyes, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Since he had not asked a question, she couldn’t answer him, but oh, how she wanted to.
Please, Paul, please fuck me,
she silently begged.
Please give me permission to come.
“Maybe, but not quite yet,” he answered himself.
Keeping his finger inside of her, Paul delivered one swift, hard smack to her left arse cheek. Alicia bit her lip, her shoulder braced against the pole, but she did not cry out or squirm. She also resisted the urge to rub her aching bottom.
“Nice,” he commented. “Now your arse is a veritable neon sign! Still, let’s try something a little different tonight. I wouldn’t want you to be getting tired of just a plain old fuck.”
Alicia dropped her head and began to silently cry again, this time from frustration. All she could think of was Paul inside of her. She heard him laugh, then he inserted another finger into her dripping tunnel.
“I hope this doesn’t hurt too much, darling, but I think you’re ready. I think you will enjoy this immensely,” he warned.
Alicia felt him grasp the base of the metal egg. “Now don’t tighten up, just relax.”
In one swift move, he yanked the egg from her arse, pulled out his fingers and shoved his entire hand into her open and quivering rectum. Alicia felt like her whole body was ripped apart, but purple, green and magenta exploded in her mind as wave after wave of pure pleasure crashed over her. Only when he withdrew his fist did she realise the colours were fading to black.
* * * *
“Here, Sweety. Drink this,” Ivory said, pushing a glass of water against her lips.
Alicia realised she was lying on the floor, her head in Paul’s lap with Mr. Devonshire on one side of her and Ivory on the other. Looking over at the bed, she saw that both Hector and Jeffery watched her with concern in their eyes.
“Alicia, I’m so sorry. Tell me you’re okay,” Paul said gently.
“Of course I’m okay. I’m fabulous.
That
was fabulous. What did you do to me? Will you do it again? What happened? Why are you all looking at me like that?” she babbled.
“You fainted,” Mr. Devonshire answered.
“Wow! It was so worth it! I guess I was holding my breath too long,” she reasoned.
“Her colour looks better and, with a smile that wide, I’d say she’s fine,” Ivory observed. “Don’t look so concerned, Maverick. It happens sometimes, but only when it’s really, really good.”
“Never happened with me,” Jeffery said with a slight whine in his voice.
“Not surprising. She really isn’t your type,” Hector pointed out.
“True. Let’s see what I can do about you, then,” Jeffrey said just before taking Hector’s staff into his mouth. Apparently Hector was quite pleased with Jeffery since he immediately threw his head back and closed his eyes. His hand guided Jeffery’s head up and down. Jeffery reached up and began to stroke Hector’s chest, gently twisting his nipples. Hector cried out and Jeffery’s throat moved convulsively as he swallowed the other man’s gift.
Alicia smiled. “You do that well, Jeffery,” she commented.
“He certainly does,” Hector agreed.
“Feeling better?” Paul asked her, gently petting her hair.
“Truly, I’m fine now,” she answered. “Please don’t let my little lapse spoil the evening.”
“You’ve spoiled nothing,” Mr. Devonshire assured her. “Still, just to be sure, I think you’re on light duty for a while, at least the rest of the evening. Come. Sit in a chair.”
“But Mr. Devonshire, really, I’m fine,” she repeated. One thing was sure, she did not want to sit on the sidelines. What she had just experienced was almost biblical. Okay, so she blacked out for a while.
Big deal
. She could still perform now that she was rested. She had drunk cum earlier but she had several more thirsty orifices waiting to be satisfied.
“You are
not
arguing, are you?” he asked sternly.
“No, sir. I’ll go to the chair,” she humbly replied.
Apparently she would indeed be sitting this one out. She went to the chair, head hanging low and sat, trying desperately not to sulk. She knew Mr. Devonshire was only looking out for her. She had seen the panic and concern on his face when she had come out of her momentary stupor. Still, what right did he have to say if she was fit enough to participate or not? Who did he think he was?
Suddenly, Alicia realised the direction her thoughts were taking.
This is not good!
If he wanted her to sit out and simply watch, torture though it might be, then she would sit and watch. She was, after all, his to command. She caught his eye as realisation hit. He knew exactly what he was doing. Forcing her to watch while Ivory willingly pleased both him and Paul was her punishment for her earlier impatience. He was teaching her a lesson in patience.
Shit!
The man was brilliant. Still captured by his eyes, Alicia nodded, folded her hands on her lap and leaned back in the chair. Mr. Devonshire laughed, apparently fully comprehending her understanding and acceptance of the punishment. Her body would remain parched while Ivory, her best friend, would receive their gifts.
Jeffery and Hector had moved into the tub, gently cleansing each other’s sweaty bodies. Paul lay on the bed and held out his hand for Ivory to join him. She glanced back at Alicia before accepting his invitation.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” she asked.
Alicia responded, “Of course. I am, as can easily be seen, a toy. A toy to be used or put away depending upon the will of my owner.”
Mr. Devonshire also turned to look at her, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Besides, I deserve this punishment. I was anxious and wilful. The men need their release, as do you. Honestly, Ivory, I wish I were the one on that bed, but since that is not to be, I am very happy it is you.” She smiled encouragingly.
Ivory ignored Paul’s invitation for a moment and walked over to Alicia. She bent close to her friend and kissed her.
“That, darling, is exactly why I will never be a submissive,” she whispered. “If I were in your place, I’d want to claw my eyes out!”
Alicia laughed. “Then it’s good I’m the toy and not you. Go. They’re waiting.”
The two women hugged and kissed again before Ivory joined the men.
Alicia caught Mr. Devonshire’s smile of approval before his face became stern once again. “You will watch, young lady. You will not touch yourself in any way,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir,” she agreed. So much for her plan to masturbate. To ensure that she would follow his direction, Alicia grasped the arms of the chair.
She watched as Ivory first took Paul’s stiff rod into her mouth, sliding her red lips over his shaft, flicking her pink tongue against the tip. Mr. Devonshire rubbed and patted Ivory’s behind, testing her slit for readiness. He plunged his fingers in and out of her cave, and Alicia bit her bottom lip, seeing the wetness on his hand. Slowly Ivory licked her way up Paul’s body, finally claiming his mouth before mounting him. Mr. Devonshire now worked her arse, lubricating it with her own body’s honey, his hand matching the rhythm of her hips.
Ivory bent her head back, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Mr. Devonshire gently pushed her shoulders down so she lay on top of Paul.
“That’s it, Ivory. You ready for us both?” he asked.
“Ready and willing,” she answered.
Deftly, Mr. Devonshire tore open a small package lying on the bedside table and worked the condom over his erect flesh. He then climbed on top of Ivory, plunging himself deep into her arse. The men moved in syncopation with each other, and Ivory, beautiful Ivory, buried her face in Paul’s shoulder and whimpered, her body overtaken with tremors of delight.
Alicia watched in fascination as Paul violently thrust his hips upwards, his fingers digging into Ivory’s arse cheeks, as he too found his release. To her surprise, though, Mr. Devonshire withdrew and whispered something into Ivory’s ear. She laughed and kissed him, snuggling up to Paul.
Alicia’s breathing quickened when her Master turned towards her and removed the condom, tossing it into a small refuge bin. “Now, my dear companion, stand and turn. Place your hands on the arms of the chair.”
Smiling and grateful, Alicia immediately complied. She heard Mr. Devonshire pick up her present—the metal paddle. Already she felt her pussy begin to twitch with anticipation as she realised he had yet to use the implement.
“You’ve been a very good girl, Alicia. Granted, a few mistakes, but you are an excellent companion. I’m very proud of you,” he said. “Prepare yourself now. I’m going to spank you, leave marks on you. ‘Toy’ will be emblazoned on your arse—even more than it already is—and on your thighs. Cry out if you need to, but do not squirm. When I finish, don’t even think about rubbing your arse. Allow your body to absorb the sensation.”
Remembering the sting of the paddle, she could anticipate the sharpness of the metal. She could also visualise how her body would look, her skin reddened from the slap of the paddle except for the white image of the letters.
She closed her eyes as the first swat came, her pussy lips beginning to engorge with anticipation. Six swats later, she nearly came. Her voice ragged, she begged, “Please, sir, Please. Enough. If you strike again, I’ll come.”
His hand, like a soothing balm, ran over her tormented flesh. His fingers dipped inside her, testing her pond of pleasure. He laughed. “Enough it is, then. But tell me, my dearest companion, do you really want to come?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered.
“Are you sure?”
“Oh God, yes! Please, sir, let me come!” she begged.
“Very well, but not before you have taken my seed,” he commanded just before he plunged his manhood into her waiting body. “You will wait until I fill you. You
will
learn patience.”
Alicia nodded and prayed she could hold out. He grasped her hips, raising her feet off the ground with the force of his thrusts. One! Two! Three! On the third, he grabbed her braid, pulled back her head and cried out his own delight. The feel of him inside of her combined with the tug on her hair was more than she could bear, and Alicia’s voice joined his as she also found her release.
Chapter Seventeen
True Love Caviar Bites
1 small cucumber, scrubbed and trimmed, alternating 1/8” strips peeled from skin
1/3 cup low fat sour cream
1 Tablespoon fresh tarragon or 1 teaspoon dried tarragon
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 jar red caviar
Fresh parsley springs
Slice cucumber into 1/4-inch rounds. Scoop out seeds. In a small bowl, combine sour cream, tarragon and pepper. Place one teaspoon of the sour cream mixture in each scooped out cucumber slice. Garnish each with about 1/2 tsp caviar and a dill sprig.
Alicia gazed at the handsome man filling the doorway of her bedroom at her flat.
“You were extraordinary last night, Alicia,” Mr. Devonshire complimented.
“Thank you, sir,” Alicia humbly answered Mr. Devonshire.
“Come, sit on the bed for a moment. I want to discuss something with you,” he held out his hand and walked her to the bed.
She perched on the edge and turned her body to face him.
“Your bottom, does it still pain you?” he asked.
“No, sir, not at all. I saw the markings in the mirror though. If I may say so, they are lovely.”
Mr. Devonshire laughed. “You certainly may say so. And I agree wholeheartedly. It is a lovely arse—with or without the labelling.” He leaned over and kissed her.
Alicia blushed but held his gaze. A year ago she would never have been able to look at him, fully dressed, while she was totally naked. Not only that, but she would never have been able to speak with him about such things without stumbling over her own words. She grinned slightly, thinking of how much confidence she had gained.
“You seemed pleased with yourself,” he noted.
“Yes, sir, I am. I was just thinking that I’m not the shy, tongue-tied tourist I once was. I owe that to you,” she answered.
He paused for a moment. “Not entirely. You set the goal and made the effort. You have endured much this year. You, not I, deserve the credit. I am simply happy to be a part of it.”
Alicia didn’t quite know what to say, so she remained silent.
“I have a new proposition to put before you,” he continued. “I would like, with your consent, to upgrade your position.”
“Sir?”
“To that of ‘slave’.”
At that word, Alicia frowned. Images of shackled men and women tortured and forced into hard, punishing labour flashed in her mind.
“I see you are hesitant,” he said. “I quite understand. But this would not be the slavery of the past, but a slavery of your choice.”
“Please explain, sir.”
“Here, look at this.” He handed her a small booklet.
Inside were pictures of both men and women in poses similar to her greeting positions. Most wore collars, some both collars and cuffs, all were naked. A few sported a tattoo similar to a bar code on their neck, ankle or lower back. Carefully studying these people, Alicia could detect a sense of contentment in their eyes. Many wore bright smiles. She looked questioningly at Mr. Devonshire.
“This is a sexual slave registry. If you agree, I will submit your name. You will be known as my slave, with Paul as your secondary Master. You will be assigned a number. And from then on, you will belong to me. Our contract will no longer be private but very public. Anyone who visits this site will know your position.”
Alicia considered carefully. She had never felt so loved and protected as she did when she was with Mr. Devonshire and Paul. Rather than being treated with disrespect, she knew the men truly appreciated her efforts to please them. She could not imagine her life without them. Still, some doubts lingered. Unconsciously she began to twist a thick lock of hair around her finger. Did she really want complete strangers to know she had chosen to be a sexual slave? For that matter, what about her friends still in America? What would they think?
“May I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course, my dear. Ask anything you wish. In fact, I order you to be completely honest and open. I do not want you to accept simply because you want to please me. I want you to be pleased with your decision.” He brought her hands up to his lips and kissed them gently.
Alicia smiled. “If I don’t accept this, will it end our relationship?”
“Good Lord, no! This is simply an option for us. I am very pleased with you. In all honesty, I think I would be lost without you in my life. You have come to hold a very special place in my heart.”
Alicia blinked her surprise. Could Mr. Devonshire be falling in love with her?
“Wow. Okay. Ah, next question. Would you require my picture on the registry?”
“Yes, Alicia, I would. I want the world to know what a beautiful slave I have. I want your lovely, naked body displayed.”
When he put it that way, she couldn’t help but feel complimented.
“Would I have to get a tattoo?” she asked hesitantly.
“Only if you want one. Remember when I could have branded you and did not? I meant what I said. I will not now or ever permanently mar or mark your body without your express permission.”
“Good. I’m afraid of needles,” she answered with a relieved sigh. “Mr. Devonshire, what happened with Megan last night?” she continued.
“Why do you care?”
“Because even though she hated me, and I wasn’t all that fond of her, I don’t want to see any harm come to her,” she replied truthfully. The idea of anyone suffering tore at her heart.
“Megan overstepped her bounds—certainly with you, but in other ways as well. I gave her a choice. She could either leave me entirely or submit to an intense submissive training program.” He hesitated and looked down. “I care about Megan. She truly does have a kind heart. She’s just lost her way. I’m not sure what happened or why she felt so threatened by you, but I will not tolerate cruelty.”
“What was her decision?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet. That, also, is a big decision. I gave her a week to consider. If I don’t hear from her, I’ll know she has decided to leave me.”
“But doesn’t she work for you as well? Won’t she be out of a job?” Alicia probed.
“Yes and no. She will no longer be working for me, but that ended last week due to other issues. She is, however, a much sought-after model. I gave her a letter of glowing recommendation and will certainly be happy to give references to any other prospective employers. In fact I’ve had two artists call about her already.”
“That’s good. I would hate to see her destitute.” Alicia shivered slightly. “I remember very well having to worry over every single purchase.”
“Megan does not have to worry about that. She actually would have no need to work at all. She had an uncle who passed away a few years back and left all his worldly goods to her. She has a substantial income independent of her career,” he supplied. “Any more questions?”
“Well…” she hesitated.
“Go on,” he encouraged.
“What about my career? I mean Tasting Pleasure is going well now and I so enjoy the work.”
“Then by all means continue. As I said, nothing has to change except your title. Think of it this way. In a marriage, a traditional marriage, the people involved generally do not change personalities, careers, habits. All that changes is the woman’s name, her title.” He ran a hand down her hair, picking up a lock and gently twirling it through his fingers. “You’re cooking talents are extraordinary and any fool could see how much enjoyment you derive from the work. Still, are you sure you enjoy every part of the business?”
Alicia hesitated. “You have a point. The paperwork, the accounts, the numbers. I’ve always had trouble with the business side of things. I think I give a fair product at a fair price, but keeping track of it all— Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by it.”
“Why have you not come to me for help?” he asked with a slightly hurt edge to his voice.
“I didn’t want to trouble you,” she whispered.
“Alicia, I will never interfere with your work, you know that. But helping you with the books would be a small matter for me. If you trust me to do it, I’d be happy to take over that task for you. In all honesty,” he smiled, “I like working with numbers. There is a logic and symmetry to them that appeals to me.”
Alicia closed her eyes in gratitude. “That would be fabulous, Maverick. I’ve been afraid that I’ll screw everything up just because I can’t keep my accounts straight.”
“I have some time this afternoon. Why don’t we get started then?” he asked.
“Thanks.” Suddenly Alicia realised she had used his first name. “Oh my, Mr. Devonshire, I just called you…”
“I know,” he interrupted. “But we were discussing business. Think nothing of it. Back to the matter at hand, though. Any other questions?”
“Would I continue to live here?”
“If you like. Or you could move in with me and occupy the room next to the playroom. Or Paul has stated that you are welcome to live with him as well. I leave that decision to you.”
Alicia considered. “Perhaps a compromise.”
“Go on.”
“I think this should continue to be my main residence. After all, I do run Tasting Pleasure from here. Also it allows some degree of privacy. But I will give a key to both you and Paul so you will have access to me whenever you wish.” She paused again. “If it is agreed, though, maybe I could leave a few items at each of your homes—a toothbrush, change of clothes, hairbrush. That way if you’d like to me stay for a while, I could.”
Mr. Devonshire cupped her face in his hand. “An excellent suggestion. Except you will not bring anything to our homes. Instead, we will provide you with anything and everything you need. Clothing, personal care items, jewellery, bedding—everything. If you belong to us, your care is our responsibility. I will prepare the room for your use. Paul has already furnished his guest bedroom for you.”
“Oh,” she was stunned. “Okay. One more question.”
“Yes?”
“I am going to assume that my new status will have some marking, if not a tattoo.”
“Certainly.”
“What will it be?” she asked hesitantly.
“In truth, Alicia, I was hoping you would agree, so I registered you last week.” He ran his thumb along her jaw line.
How does this man know me so well?
she wondered.
“Wait here a moment. I have a gift for you.” He kissed her and went into the other room to return a moment later carrying a small box wrapped in gold paper and sporting a bright blue bow. He placed the gift in her lap.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Open it.”
Giggling with anticipation, she untied the ribbon and ripped off the paper. She held a small, blue velvet jewellery box. She opened the hinged lid and gasped. Inside lay a lovely gold anklet. Tiny golden bells lined the chain, and a small round medallion dangled close to the clasp. Inspecting this more closely revealed an edging of dark blue sapphires and a number engraved onto the centre of the circle, ’927-513-908’. Alicia was stunned.
“If you choose to accept your sexual slave status, you will wear this anklet whenever you are with me or Paul. If, though, you wish to negate that status, even temporarily, simply remove the anklet. The choice is yours, just as the choice to become a companion or use the safe word was yours. You will, naturally, still be able to use that word whenever you decide.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her.
“Also inside the box is a small piece of paper. It is the website of the registry. You will, if you want this, go to that registry and fill in your information. I have naturally completed the basic application, including a lovely picture from last night, but have left the details to you.”
Still Alicia was silent. Did she want this?
“You may wear the anklet as much or as little as you like,” Mr. Devonshire assured her. “Why don’t you take a few days to consider?”
But she did not need a few days. She knew her own mind and her options. She removed the anklet from the box and hooked the clasp around her left ankle. The bells gave a pleasant jingling sound. Alicia knew that even the slightest movement would set them off, thereby alerting her Master to her movements. Once the symbol of her new status was attached, she slid to the floor to kneel before Mr. Devonshire.
“I need no time, sir. I belong to you and to Paul. I have for quite some time. Truthfully, I am not complete without you. On the days when I am not with you or him, I am destitute with loneliness.” She looked up at him with a new confidence. “My skin craves the taste of leather. My mind seeks commands. When I am with you, singly or together, I am whole.” She bent her head to rub her cheek against his leg.
“Ah, Alicia,” he said, petting her head, “you have made me a very happy man.”
“And I, sir, am a very happy slave,” she said before taking his manhood into her mouth.
This, she thought, was the ultimate in Tasting Pleasure.