A Gentleman's Property Read online

  Madame searched the drawers of a bedside cabinet and found a slim dildo with a small closed loop of steel imbedded in the point of the business end. She threaded the string attached to the balls through this loop, and knotted it tightly. The dildo itself she ran up and down the sodden chasm between Mary's gaping labia until the delicate implement was slick and shiny.

  "Open wide, darling," laughed Madame, as she ran the head of the dildo round the puckered entrance to her slave's virgin back passage. The horrified Mary tried desperately to do the very opposite, but her position left her hopelessly exposed, and the glib intruder, not much thicker than a chunky fountain pen, soon found a lodgement within her outraged anus.

  As Madame forced the dildo further within Mary's rectum the string attached to its head was dragged in with it. The complicated knot had shortened the string, and before the dildo had advanced three inches it was pulled taut. Further penetration could only be achieved by popping the rubber balls out of Mary's cunt, and the tightness of her front passage had been increased by the invasion of her rear one.

  The string dug into the tender skin of Mary's perineum, causing that acute mixture of pain and pleasure with which she was becoming familiar. Madame eased the dildo backwards just a little and then thrust determinedly again with her thumb. The string sawed across the bridge linking cunt to anus, and the first rubber ball emerged half way, and lodged between the prominent lips of Mary's sex like a hesitant parachutist. She could feel it vibrating there. Then a renewed effort from Madame drove the dildo half an inch further home, and Mary's labia gave up their hold on the first ball with a distinct plop.

  The sudden feeling of release, and the sensation of the ball bobbing freely against the tight skin surrounding her anus, sent a spasm of pleasure through Mary's contorted body. All unconsciously she lifted her buttocks even further from the bed in an attempt to spread her legs more widely and give Madame freer access. This eased the passage of the dildo, which was screwed another inch into Mary, forcing a second ball explosively from her cunt. She began to mewl with delight. Her muscles relaxed, allowing Madame to drive her intimate intruder fully home. A third ball was violently expelled, and the sensation brought Mary to the brink of blissful release.

  But now that the dildo was fully inserted how was she to make further progress towards the evacuation of the balls and the achievement of her orgasm. The dilemma naturally did not escape the attention of Madame Colet, who came to the head of the bed, where she could toy with Mary's engorged nipples.

  "Is anything the matter, darling?" she enquired with mock solicitude. "You seem agitated."

  "O, please, Madame! Please!"

  "Yes?"

  "Bring me off, Madame! I can't bear it!"

  "But how, cherie?" asked the Frenchwoman, as she scratched Mary's throbbing nipples with long red fingernails. "We seem to have reached an impasse down below."

  "The dildo, Madame! Work the dildo!"

  "Work it, Mary? Where?"

  "In my arse, Madame! Ram it in and out, please!"

  "Very well. If you think it will help."

  The delighted Madame Colet, laughing gaily to hear the prim Miss Bowdler speak so lewdly, returned to her post between the slave's legs, and began to piston the dildo with regular dart player's flicks of her wrist. Mary was now so wet that the intruder met with no resistance. At each inward thrust more of the string became entangled with the dildo and forced into Mary's rectum, and soon a fourth ball was forced violently from her cunt. Her scream of pleasure whipped Madame into a frenzy of energetic thrusting, and the almost simultaneous expulsion of the last two balls was enough to trigger a shattering climax. Mary bounced so vigorously during it that the pubic bells rang a tocsin for the safety of the cot.

  "One," said Madame, with a feline lick of the lips. "Remember that I am keeping score, Mary, and that I expect you to break all records today. Has this exercise given you an appetite for breakfast, cherie?"

  Madame cut off the little bells, and unpicked the pubic plaits so patiently created by Roland Climp. She released Mary's wrists from the bed head, and re-fastened them behind her back before freeing her ankles. The slave got shakily to her feet, the dildo still embedded in her rear passage, and the string of six balls dangling between her thighs. Her mistress half guided and half supported her into the main cabin adjoining. Here a table was laid for two. Madame Colet took one place, and indicated that Mary should sit beside her.

  "But Madame, I..."

  "Yes?"

  "Madame, I can't. This thing..."

  "'Thing', Mary? Dildo, do you mean? You weren't so reticent just now. Sit at once, Miss!"

  Madame Colet had never spoken so loudly or sharply to Mary, who, in a panic, sat without further thought. She gasped as the dildo, half of which had slipped out as she walked from the bed to the table, was forced home again. To accommodate the rubber balls she found it necessary to sit well forward in the chair, and with her legs spread.

  Madame rang a bell, and immediately two diminutive Japanese girls, both quite naked, appeared through a door Mary had not noticed before. Clearly this was a suite rather than a simple cabin. The girls were identical twins.

  "Meet two of your fellow slaves, Mary. Suki and Luki. You can tell them apart because Suki has a sapphire pendant to her nose ring, and Luki a ruby. We sometimes call them Blue and Red for simplicity. Serve breakfast, you two, and be quick about it."

  Despite the troubling presence of the dildo, breakfast was a pleasantly soothing and refreshing meal for Mary. With her hands helpless behind her back she could only sit quietly while Madame held glasses of orange juice and cups of coffee for her to sip, or offered her morsels of roll smothered with butter and honey.

  While Madame was eating Mary had leisure to examine the decorations of the cabin, which she had seen only fleetingly on the previous evening. The themes were exclusively lesbian. One wall was dominated by a full length portrait of a noble Edwardian beauty wearing a tiara and carrying a fan. Her face was so striking that it was only after a moment that Mary noticed that her gown was unbuttoned below the waist, and pulled open to reveal the lady's naked body. Her black pubic hair was so luxuriant as to make even Mary's seem sparse. The bush rose fully to her navel, almost to her hips, and bunched so thickly between her thighs as to prevent her legs from closing tightly. Protruding from it straight at the spectator's startled eye, in the manner of Lord Kitchener's finger, was a huge strap-on dildo, green to match the lady's gown and eyes. Observing the direction of Mary's gaze Madame Colet explained.

  "That is my dear mistress and teacher, the Baroness Walter, painted in her youth by Sargent."

  "Is the portrait exactly as he left it, Madame?"

  "The Baroness has never said. The phallus is certainly painted with a masterly touch."

  On another wall was a canvas depicting two women, their faces masks of blind lust, sprawled on sofas placed on either side of an immense coffee table. A long, highly elastic rubber snake lay in folds upon the table, with its ends spilling onto the sofas, and from there into the cunts of the two women. The artist had shown immense skill in indicating that when one of the women jerked her hips the motion whiplashed along the coils of the snake to explode deep within the vitals of her lover. The faces of the women, and their sweat-drenched bodies, indicated that they had been pleasuring each other in this way for a considerably time.

  A painting hanging beside it, entitled ‘Souvenir of Vienna’, showed the ceiling of a large hall, probably a ballroom, as there were several chandeliers hanging. A woman in an Edwardian maid’s uniform, perched on the top of a stepladder, was lighting the candles on one of them. The others were already illuminated. Suspended from the ceiling at regular intervals between the chandeliers, and at the same height, were dozens of naked women, all painted in loving detail. They were supported by shoulder harnesses. Their arms were folded tightly be
hind their backs, their legs pulled up vertically and fastened together by chains running to behind their necks. What made Mary think this might be a record of a real scene rather than a fantasy, was the fact that the feet of some of the younger and slimmer women had been forced entirely together, whereas the plumper and more mature had their feet in advance of their faces, and some of their legs were not straight. The ages of the women seemed to vary from under twenty to over forty, but young and old alike had their hair most elaborately dressed as if for a ball, and wore tiaras, necklaces, earrings, and bracelets of great splendour. All but one of the ball-gagged faces wore expressions of indignation, shock, or fury. The exception was the buxom matron being attended to by another maid on another stepladder. The maid had rolled up the right sleeve of her uniform, and her arm was plunged almost up to the elbow in the lady’s cunt. Mary thought that it must have been thrusting in and out for some time, because the woman was clearly in the throes of an orgasm, perhaps not her first to judge from the state of her flushed and sweat-slicked body and the disarray of her hair. Wherever Mary looked around the cabin similar scenes met her wondering eyes.

  Meanwhile Suki and Luki flitted silently in and out, and contrived to have everything ready to Madame's hand before she was obliged to issue a single command. The mistress was well pleased, and amused herself by smearing a liberal coating of butter and honey over Mary's breasts, and licking it off with all the fastidiousness of a well bred cat. She saved the nipples until last, and worked over them so meticulously, even after the last trace of butter was removed, that Mary felt her sexual temperature rising yet again. Madame Colet always knew exactly when to stop. She dabbed her mouth, and called Suki forward to stand at her left hand, opposite Mary.

  "The twins have many qualities, natural and acquired," she explained, "but Suki we value especially for her fist. Show her, Blue."

  The diminutive Japanese girl adopted the pose of some political zealot, but the fist she made was so tiny as to be an entirely unthreatening symbol - of revolution, at least.

  "Isn't that beautiful, Mary? Ponder it if you will while we take a turn on deck to refresh ourselves for the delights to come. Meanwhile Suki and Luki will get the cabin ready for the next stage of your education."

  Madame helped Mary to her feet and guided her to the door of the cabin. Before opening it she bent her slave over abruptly, and yanked the dildo from her rectum.

  "Clean that," she said, tossing it, with the rubber balls still attached, to Luki. "And prepare the glove."

  Deck Games

  Mary had been kept constantly below decks since she came aboard, and all the portholes had been curtained, so she had no idea in which direction they had been sailing. The heat that struck her as she emerged into the open air immediately revealed that they had travelled far south. No land was in sight. Wherever she looked the watery horizon was obscured by a dancing heat haze.

  Madame was wearing a white blouse and skirt, as if for tennis, and such casual attire seemed general among the members strolling the decks. The slaves were all naked, and all beautiful. Some were walking arm in arm with their masters, as if they were equals who had simply forgotten to dress that morning, while others were on hands and knees, their necks caught in leashes. It was all a matter of whim. The next moment the bitches might become women again, and the women bitches. Madame Colet draped an affectionate arm around Mary, conferring human status on her for the time being, and began her promenade. All the masters greeted Madame warmly, although Mary noticed that several winked at one another lasciviously while her attention was elsewhere.

  On a raised portion of the deck they came across a dozen slaves sunbathing under the orders of an elderly member. He was seated at his ease, shaded by a huge parasol, and with a long cool drink at his elbow. The sweltering women were spread out before him, their backs glistening with oil, in the full glare of the sun. As Mary and Madame Colet passed by, the ugly old man croaked out "turn,” and the twelve slaves rolled over in military unison. "Oil" was the next laconic command, and without rising from their backs the twelve reached to bottles at their sides and splashed liberal quantities of the lotion over their faces, their breasts, and their bellies. "Legs" said the old master, and twenty-four rose from the waist as one, so that the slaves could oil their thighs and shins without raising their heads from the deck.

  As Mary looked back towards the sun deck this position exposed twelve pudenda to her anxious gaze. Most of the women had been shaved, and their labia showed stark and glistening. Two had also been ringed like Lady Logan, and one of these had a thick plug embedded in her cunt, and locked in position by her rings. She seemed older than the others, perhaps in her thirties. Mary soon learned her name, for the master now proved that he could manage more than one word at a time by ordering:

  "Mrs.Carmichael, two minutes peddling. Legs down, the rest."

  The other eleven women lowered their legs immediately, but the ringed redhead with the cunt plug wedged her hands below her hips for support, and began a vigorous peddling action in the air, while the master kept half an eye on her and half on his watch. The two minutes were never completed. Within seconds the increasing colour of her face and the faltering rhythm of her peddling showed her distress. After little more than a minute Mrs.Carmichael's legs went rigid, her toes pointed to the sky, and her laboured breathing indicated the intense struggle for self control raging within her. It was soon lost. She locked her left hand behind her knees, pulling them back almost to her face, as if to hide her blushes, and clamped her right hand to her clit. It fluttered there for a few seconds before she collapsed screaming in an oily heap.

  "The oldest member will make her pay for that," whispered Madame, "though I'll wager she has already put in half a dozen spurts of peddling this morning."

  "The oldest member, Madame?"

  "We call him that because it is literally true, but also in allusion to his tall stories about the feats of his youth. At different times he has told us that every woman at Victoria's court was his abject slave. He even hints that it was only her age that protected the queen herself. Sir George Carmichael is his name. You must have heard of him."

  "The same name as the slave!"

  "Yes. She is the wife of his grandson. The boy married against Sir George's wishes, and the old fox soon saw to it that the couple ran into the financial quicksand. Then he stepped in to save the poor fool from ruin, and the price you have seen for yourself."

  "The grandson sold his wife into slavery?"

  "Temporary slavery. And she loves him so much - God knows why - that she was a willing victim. She is saving him not only from bankruptcy, but from prison, for he had resorted to fraud."

  "Poor woman," murmured Mary.

  "I suppose so, especially as Sir George is never going to forgive her marriage. Her age is one problem - she is older than her husband - but probably a few years could be overlooked at a pinch. That is not her real crime. Middle class, you understand."

  "So am I," said Mary humbly.

  "Moi aussi," laughed Madame. "Aren't men silly?"

  Towards the bow there was a large open space covered by an awning. Here they found Sir Roger organising a team of slaves who were setting out various chairs and tables and other less familiar items, which seemed to have drawn their inspiration in equal parts from furniture, from sporting equipment, and from the implements of torture.

  "Good morning, Madame," said Sir Roger, his eyes flitting over Mary. "I trust you enjoyed a restful night." He was far too polite to exhibit any unseemly mirth, but there was a twinkle deep in his knowing eyes. "Have you come to enter Miss Bowdler for the games?"

  "An excellent night, thank you, but as Mary has had a tiring morning I will not race her today. I am sure she will be an interested spectator, though. Have you an amusing seat for her, and a comfortable one for me?"

  "For you, Madame, always the best."
r />   A buxom young slave appeared to offer a programme. She could not give one because her wrists were locked at the back of her collar, but she thrust forward her breasts for Madame to help herself. Her pierced nipples had been drawn together and fastened to a single small ring. A roll of programmes had been thrust into the narrowed cleavage. Madame deftly extracted the middle programme without disturbing the others, and rewarded the slave with a playful tug of the nipple ring.

  Sir Roger conducted them to a pair of places in the front row. One was a large and well upholstered armchair, for the mistress of course. Beside it was a three legged wooden stool with an obscenely lifelike model of a black penis protruding from the seat, ten inches long, proportionately broad, and dripping with lubricant. It was not mounted in an upright position, but pointing forward at quite an acute angle.

  Madame Colet seated herself demurely, and indicated that Mary should do likewise.

  "But Madame," stammered Mary, "how can I?"

  "Nonsense, girl. Ogden tells me you are unusually roomy. This will be lost in you."

  "But the angle, Madame!"

  "Don't be silly. The thing is flexible. Just bend it back. Now hide it quickly, you goose. It is making me feel quite faint."

  The prong did indeed bend quite readily, and Mary found that its greasy length slid into her easily enough. But as soon as she settled back on the stool the hard rubber tried to spring back to its former position. As it could lean forward very little it continued to press firmly against the front wall of Mary's sheath - her most sensitive spot. After a little exploratory squirming Mary found that by leaning far forward again she could relieve the pressure substantially. She was not allowed to do so for long.