Read Online Cassandra's Conflict by Fredrica Alleyn - Free Book Online
Authors: Fredrica Alleyn
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choke. His cock had never seemed so large before. She was terrified that she'd suffocate or choke to death before he'd finished, and in the darkness there was nothing but the feel of him sliding down her throat, filling her airway. She tried to relax the throat muscles, as he'd taught her long ago, but her fear made it impossible and then, when her heart was racing as though it would burst and her throat felt raw from the violence of his movements, he finally climaxed and the hot, sticky liquid erupted from him and flooded her mouth and throat until she began to choke.
The baron withdrew immediately, his eyes totally without expression. Peter started to release his grip, but the baron frowned in displeasure. 'Keep hold of her. She must swallow it all.' Katya swallowed again and again. The back of her neck ached where it had been crushed against the edge of the couch and her whole body was bruised and battered by what had happened. She wanted to cry, with furious humiliation, something that hadn't happened to her for many, many years, but she didn't dare. If she cried then she would have lost before the game had even started properly, before Cassandra had faced a single test, and that thought helped her keep control.
At last, when he was satisfied that she had swallowed every drop of him, the baron let Peter release her head and he himself pulled her back into position. He looked down at her thoughtfully for a moment, then reached out and removed the blindfold.
Katya's eyes stared up at him, still sightless for a few seconds, then she blinked and began to adjust to the light again, but he knew that for once he'd managed to put a flicker of genuine fear into those green depths and he raised his eyebrows at her in amusement.
'Perhaps next time you'll wait until you're invited before you touch, yes?'
Katya wanted to promise him that she'd wait, to swear that she'd never disobey him again; it was what he'd always demanded in the early years, but some sixth sense told her that now the rules were different. 'Perhaps,' she replied coolly, and was rewarded with a look of appreciation before he moved out of her line of vision.
'Get her out of that costume and into a bath,' he told Peter curtly. 'She needs to rest before dinner.'
'I can do it myself,' Katya said fiercely as Peter approached, and the boy backed off, looking to the baron for instructions.
The baron shrugged indifferently. 'Just as she likes. Pierre, it's time you were gone. I hope you aren't expecting extra payment for overtime?'
The masseur shook his head, hardly able to believe what he'd seen and thinking excitedly of what a story he'd have to tell his friends when they met up later that night. 'Good,' the baron continued pleasantly. 'And naturally I don't expect a word of this to pass your lips.'
'Of course not!' Pierre lied fervently.
The baron smiled, watched him leave the room and promptly picked up the telephone. 'Make sure the masseur does not arrive home tonight,' he said softly into the mouthpiece.
When Katya had finally managed to take off the rubber suit and was at last sitting in her deep, shell-shaped bath, she ran her hands down over her bruised breasts, touched herself between her thighs where the flesh was so exquisitely tender and with a shiver of delight recalled all that had just happened and anticipated the dinner that was to come. This time it would be Cassandra's turn to be tested. The beginning of her own, particular kind of torture, the wonderful destruction of innocence.
3
The first thing that Cassandra noticed as she walked into the oak-panelled dining room was the heat. It had been a very warm day for late May, and she'd been grateful for the ceiling fan in her room when she changed for dinner. She knew from Katya that the house had air conditioning and had been anticipating a cool evening meal with relief. In fact the room was stiflingly hot; thick moss-green curtains covered the windows trapping the heat of the day and preventing
The baron withdrew immediately, his eyes totally without expression. Peter started to release his grip, but the baron frowned in displeasure. 'Keep hold of her. She must swallow it all.' Katya swallowed again and again. The back of her neck ached where it had been crushed against the edge of the couch and her whole body was bruised and battered by what had happened. She wanted to cry, with furious humiliation, something that hadn't happened to her for many, many years, but she didn't dare. If she cried then she would have lost before the game had even started properly, before Cassandra had faced a single test, and that thought helped her keep control.
At last, when he was satisfied that she had swallowed every drop of him, the baron let Peter release her head and he himself pulled her back into position. He looked down at her thoughtfully for a moment, then reached out and removed the blindfold.
Katya's eyes stared up at him, still sightless for a few seconds, then she blinked and began to adjust to the light again, but he knew that for once he'd managed to put a flicker of genuine fear into those green depths and he raised his eyebrows at her in amusement.
'Perhaps next time you'll wait until you're invited before you touch, yes?'
Katya wanted to promise him that she'd wait, to swear that she'd never disobey him again; it was what he'd always demanded in the early years, but some sixth sense told her that now the rules were different. 'Perhaps,' she replied coolly, and was rewarded with a look of appreciation before he moved out of her line of vision.
'Get her out of that costume and into a bath,' he told Peter curtly. 'She needs to rest before dinner.'
'I can do it myself,' Katya said fiercely as Peter approached, and the boy backed off, looking to the baron for instructions.
The baron shrugged indifferently. 'Just as she likes. Pierre, it's time you were gone. I hope you aren't expecting extra payment for overtime?'
The masseur shook his head, hardly able to believe what he'd seen and thinking excitedly of what a story he'd have to tell his friends when they met up later that night. 'Good,' the baron continued pleasantly. 'And naturally I don't expect a word of this to pass your lips.'
'Of course not!' Pierre lied fervently.
The baron smiled, watched him leave the room and promptly picked up the telephone. 'Make sure the masseur does not arrive home tonight,' he said softly into the mouthpiece.
When Katya had finally managed to take off the rubber suit and was at last sitting in her deep, shell-shaped bath, she ran her hands down over her bruised breasts, touched herself between her thighs where the flesh was so exquisitely tender and with a shiver of delight recalled all that had just happened and anticipated the dinner that was to come. This time it would be Cassandra's turn to be tested. The beginning of her own, particular kind of torture, the wonderful destruction of innocence.
3
The first thing that Cassandra noticed as she walked into the oak-panelled dining room was the heat. It had been a very warm day for late May, and she'd been grateful for the ceiling fan in her room when she changed for dinner. She knew from Katya that the house had air conditioning and had been anticipating a cool evening meal with relief. In fact the room was stiflingly hot; thick moss-green curtains covered the windows trapping the heat of the day and preventing
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