it.
I watched it all with breathless fascination. I’d heard whispers of this act, knowing
it was practiced by the French, but to see it performed—ah, who would have guessed
it would be so exciting?
How full the woman’s mouth must be, even into her throat, and yet she greedily sucked
harder. I tried to imagine how the man’s cock must taste, how it must fill her mouth
and press against her tongue. How powerful in turn the woman must feel, to be able
to give this man such obvious pleasure!
The man was clearly approaching his climax, his eyes squeezed shut and his face contorted
as his hips jerked more rapidly. I knew the pair were players hired by Lady Carleigh,
yet this was not pretend. This was real, passion straining for release, and I could not look away. My own body was on fire,
too, my breasts tight and my quim so wet and aching in sympathy that I surreptitiously
pressed my thighs tightly together, hoping for some sort of relief myself.
Then, suddenly, everything changed. The man pushed the woman away and his rigid cock
slipped free from her mouth. She bent down meekly at his feet with her head bowed,
her hair falling around her face like a veil, and he shoved aside her hair to uncover
the wide jeweled necklace.
He fumbled with the necklace, turning it around her throat until he found a loop that
was part of the design, and then from his sleeve he withdrew a length of chain and
fastened it to the loop. The woman was chained like a dog, the glittering necklace
now a leashed collar, and she looked up at him like a dog, too, still crouching and
waiting for her master’s command.
“Kneel,” he ordered curtly, and without hesitation the woman turned about on her hands
and knees. Her hair briefly tangled in the leash, and impatiently the man wrapped
the chain around his hand and snapped it back, jerking her head with it and making
her yelp with pain. Apparently that was what he desired, for then he let the chain
slack.
Swiftly she lowered her shoulders to the floor and raised her hips in the air, the
open halves of her trousers sliding apart to reveal the perfect white moons of her
bottom with her pouting, wet sex below. Yet, despite how the woman must have suffered,
she was clearly aroused, her breathing so ragged that her whole body shook as she
waited for the man’s final assault.
I was shaking, too, not only with the shock of what I was witnessing but with the
excitement it roused within me, forcing me to clutch my hands together in a tight
knot in my lap to keep some manner of self-control.
How had I never known of such things? Why had I been kept so blindly innocent?
The man paused, breathing hard as he studied the woman’s shameless presentation before
him for a long moment. Surely he would take her now, I thought; she was nearly begging
him to do it. Surely he would plunge that gleaming, purpled cock into her, and give
them both what they wanted.
But instead he raised his hand and struck the woman hard across her offered bottom
with the flat of his palm, so hard that he pushed her forward across the floor. Again
he struck her, and again after that, the blows flying until her once-pearly skin glowed
fiery red with the marks of his hand.
Only then did he fall upon her, twisting the chain around his wrist to hold her steady
as he drove his cock into her greedy core. After so much delay, neither of them could
last long, and over the music the woman’s frenzied cries rose higher and higher until
they reached a crescendo of need. When at last she spent, she screamed with her release,
her whole body bucking and shuddering from the force of it. That was enough to fetch
the man as well, who with his final thrust collapsed atop her, writhing together as
she wrung the last drop of seed and pleasure from his cock.
Even before they’d finished, the audience began to applaud, with many of the gentlemen
coming to their feet with
I watched it all with breathless fascination. I’d heard whispers of this act, knowing
it was practiced by the French, but to see it performed—ah, who would have guessed
it would be so exciting?
How full the woman’s mouth must be, even into her throat, and yet she greedily sucked
harder. I tried to imagine how the man’s cock must taste, how it must fill her mouth
and press against her tongue. How powerful in turn the woman must feel, to be able
to give this man such obvious pleasure!
The man was clearly approaching his climax, his eyes squeezed shut and his face contorted
as his hips jerked more rapidly. I knew the pair were players hired by Lady Carleigh,
yet this was not pretend. This was real, passion straining for release, and I could not look away. My own body was on fire,
too, my breasts tight and my quim so wet and aching in sympathy that I surreptitiously
pressed my thighs tightly together, hoping for some sort of relief myself.
Then, suddenly, everything changed. The man pushed the woman away and his rigid cock
slipped free from her mouth. She bent down meekly at his feet with her head bowed,
her hair falling around her face like a veil, and he shoved aside her hair to uncover
the wide jeweled necklace.
He fumbled with the necklace, turning it around her throat until he found a loop that
was part of the design, and then from his sleeve he withdrew a length of chain and
fastened it to the loop. The woman was chained like a dog, the glittering necklace
now a leashed collar, and she looked up at him like a dog, too, still crouching and
waiting for her master’s command.
“Kneel,” he ordered curtly, and without hesitation the woman turned about on her hands
and knees. Her hair briefly tangled in the leash, and impatiently the man wrapped
the chain around his hand and snapped it back, jerking her head with it and making
her yelp with pain. Apparently that was what he desired, for then he let the chain
slack.
Swiftly she lowered her shoulders to the floor and raised her hips in the air, the
open halves of her trousers sliding apart to reveal the perfect white moons of her
bottom with her pouting, wet sex below. Yet, despite how the woman must have suffered,
she was clearly aroused, her breathing so ragged that her whole body shook as she
waited for the man’s final assault.
I was shaking, too, not only with the shock of what I was witnessing but with the
excitement it roused within me, forcing me to clutch my hands together in a tight
knot in my lap to keep some manner of self-control.
How had I never known of such things? Why had I been kept so blindly innocent?
The man paused, breathing hard as he studied the woman’s shameless presentation before
him for a long moment. Surely he would take her now, I thought; she was nearly begging
him to do it. Surely he would plunge that gleaming, purpled cock into her, and give
them both what they wanted.
But instead he raised his hand and struck the woman hard across her offered bottom
with the flat of his palm, so hard that he pushed her forward across the floor. Again
he struck her, and again after that, the blows flying until her once-pearly skin glowed
fiery red with the marks of his hand.
Only then did he fall upon her, twisting the chain around his wrist to hold her steady
as he drove his cock into her greedy core. After so much delay, neither of them could
last long, and over the music the woman’s frenzied cries rose higher and higher until
they reached a crescendo of need. When at last she spent, she screamed with her release,
her whole body bucking and shuddering from the force of it. That was enough to fetch
the man as well, who with his final thrust collapsed atop her, writhing together as
she wrung the last drop of seed and pleasure from his cock.
Even before they’d finished, the audience began to applaud, with many of the gentlemen
coming to their feet with
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