A Gentleman's Property Read online

  "You are disgracing me in public," hissed Madame. "Sit up straight like a good girl, and stop fidgeting!"

  Mary obeyed at once, and the big prong reasserted its steady pressure. It felt wonderful, but she knew that without some assistance from steady fidgeting, to say the least, it would raise her to a plateau of frustration, but never to the peak of satisfaction. Her hands were still cuffed behind her back, but perhaps if she raised her buttocks a little she could stretch a finger or two far enough forward to...

  "Elbows out, hands in the small of the back, sit absolutely still," hissed Madame.

  Mary adopted the required pose with a sigh of resignation. Madame raised a languid right hand from the arm of her chair and began to toy idly with her slave's left nipple. She varied feather-light tickling of the tip with scratches of her nails around the base and areola. When Mary began to press her breast more firmly against the pleasure-dealing hand Madame gave the nipple a sharp admonitory pinch.

  "Quite still, I have said. Are you all hot and bothered, cherie? Never mind. Perhaps the games will provide the cure. Even I have been known to come while watching them, and without the aid of any internal comforter. Or if sport does not excite you concentrate your thoughts on little Suki and her fist."

  Madame resumed her tickling and scratching while the rest of the spectator seats on the sports deck gradually filled with masters and a few slaves. When all the places were taken Sir Roger clapped his hands for silence, and ordered:

  "Let the games commence!"

  A hatch in the centre of the deck sprang open with theatrical suddenness, and a magnificent peacock feather emerged into the bright sunlight. As it rose higher it was seen to be attached to an elaborate headdress, in the Zeigfeld mode. Another step revealed the wearer to be the beautiful brunette showgirl last seen by Mary tap dancing while impaled on a dildo stand. The audience waited in great expectation to see what sumptuous costume could have been worthy to be topped off by such extravagant millinery. The bare shoulders which next appeared raised thoughts of an elegant evening gown, but little by little more flesh was exposed above the hatch, and it soon became obvious that the woman was naked except for a liberal sprinkling of body jewellery, and high heeled shoes. Just below her navel and on her right buttock the number '1' had been painted in a highly colourful and ornate style.

  "That is Grace Connolly, the American model," Madame told Mary, with a sharp pinch of the nipple to secure her full attention. "She has been trying to break into films for years, and now Sol Jungmann, one of our Hollywood members, has offered her a contract - on completion of a year's apprenticeship with the club. It is sad that censorship will prevent her from making direct use of the skills she is learning when she finally makes it to the silver screen."

  While Madame was talking a second slave had followed Miss Connolly onto the deck. She balanced an equally bizarre creation on her head, and had number '2' painted on her, front and back. While these two circled the deck like thoroughbreds being exhibited in the paddock, contestants three to twenty, similarly decorated, emerged from the hatch, which was immediately closed behind them. Soon all twenty women were displaying themselves to the spectators, and a fair number of bets were being laid on the various events listed in the programme. Mary tried to steal a look at Madame's, but 'Maiden Staking' was the only title she could pick out, and surely, she thought, that must be a misprint!

  Sir Roger clapped his hands again, and the twenty athletes withdrew to the back of the games deck, where they assisted one another in removing the ponderous headdresses. They then carried forward three most unusual seats and placed them in a row only a few yards in front of Madame Colet and Mary and the other more privileged spectators. The seats were armless and straight backed and otherwise conventional, except that the seats were extended forwards by a narrowing tongue of highly polished wood which curved up gently from the horizontal, so that anybody sitting on the tongue would tend to slide down towards the main part of the seat. The ends of these extensions had been carved into bizarre phallic shapes like figureheads from a virgin's nightmare. Mary noticed that one of them was pointed threateningly straight at her mouth.

  "Madame Colet and gentlemen," announced Sir Roger, in his most theatrical manner, "the first item on your programme is the Maiden Staking for eighteen to twenty-three year olds. Step forward Miss Susan Metcalfe, Mademoiselle Denise Monnier, and Miss Peggy Ponsonby."

  Three young slaves, with the numbers 6, 7, and 8 elaborately painted on their bellies and buttocks, immediately emerged from the group of contestants and took up their stations beside the chairs. They had clearly been well drilled, up to this point at least. The climax of their performance would have been ruined by rehearsal.

  "We do not have the traditional old woman present," continued Sir Roger, "so may I request the ever young and lovely Madame Colet - for the satisfaction of the punters - to certify the condition of these recently acquired fillies?"

  "It will be my pleasure," answered Madame, with unwonted sincerity.

  Peggy Ponsonby, a delicate Irish redhead, was the first to be presented for inspection. Madame ordered her to stand with the backs of her widely spread thighs pressing against the front of the armchair, in which the mistress had remained seated. Peggy was then made to bend over and place her palms flat on the deck to either side of Madame's feet. This position presented a most intimate close-up view of her cunt, on which the sparse coppery hair had been allowed to remain, and also framed her anxious aristocratic features (upside down) between her quivering thighs.

  The lesbian millionairess had never been accustomed to hurry the inspection of a virgin. She tugged at Miss Ponsonby's pubic hair until the girl closed her eyes in what might have been pleasure or pain. The closely attentive Mary, on her stool of frustration, found that reversed expressions were surprisingly hard to interpret. Madame teased apart the slave's fine and understated outer lips, and holding them agape with the thumb and forefinger of her left hand began to search for the clitoris. After she had delved and stroked for some moments nothing was visible to even so close a spectator as Mary, but Madame had felt a slight swelling beneath her finger tip and continued to caress it until the Irish beauty's breathing showed symptoms of considerable agitation.

  "Well, Madame?" enquired Sir Roger, who had noticed a certain restlessness among the more remote sections of his audience.

  The mistress abandoned the growing clit and searched instead for the narrow entrance to Peggy's sheath. She cautiously inserted her little finger and advanced it until she felt the maidenhead. Reluctant to abandon hold of this beauty so soon Madame returned her thumb to the clit and stroked it until she had the gratification of feeling the virgin sheath considerably relax the tightness of its grip upon her finger. Then, catching the eye of Sir Roger, she withdrew her hands and loudly announced:

  "Intact!"

  The other two contestants were similarly inspected, and pronounced sound. Denise Monnier, a saucy-eyed brunette, nearly came when her clit was gently stroked, and Madame whispered to Mary that it was a pity her status as a judge prevented her from betting.

  "My countrywoman is certainly a virgin so far as the male is concerned, but I can see in her eyes that she has had more than one female tongue inside her. I must enquire what school she is from. Now pay attention, Mary. So far most of the masters you have met have been of mature years, but for the purposes of this sport we need to call on the services of our younger and more virile members. There is never any shortage of volunteers."

  "Will the gentlemen jockeys be so good as to step forward?" said Sir Roger, and three young men in morning suits, more formal than the attire of most of the audience, appeared from behind the rows of seats. Mary instantly recognised one as Mark Gertler, the American playboy. Another's face was familiar from the illustrated magazines. The third man was a devastatingly handsome Pakistani - 'Tommy' Khan, Madame named him to Mary in an undert
one. They acknowledged the enthusiastic applause of their fellow members, and settled themselves on the three unusual seats, each with one leg on either side of the extending tongues of polished wood.

  Sir Roger now called forward three more of the contestants to act as suckers, whose duty it was to prepare the jockeys for action. The most beautiful, a serene honey blonde, was assigned to the Pakistani. She immediately knelt beside him and began to unbutton his flies. The other two suckers set to work on their appointed masters, and soon three servile mouths were clamped around three meaty cocks.

  "May I ask, Madame," said the curious Mary, still unable to put a name to the face, "what is the name of the third master."

  "Lord Reginald Atterbridge. His father the marquess owns the London homes of several of our members, which gives him a good deal of influence. That is why this favourite son is a member, though I doubt whether his personal wealth qualifies him, strictly speaking. Do you find him handsome, cherie?"

  "All three of them are, especially Mr.Khan!"

  "They would certainly agree with you, but I suspect their present attractions owe more than anything else to that obscene object between your legs. Speaking of which, did I not tell you to sit still?"

  Mary had been unaware of it, but now realised that ever since the appearance of the three young masters, the only really attractive men she had seen since coming aboard, she had been almost imperceptibly swaying her hips to vary the pressure of the big black prong inside her. Madame, in spite of her absorption in the events passing on deck, had spotted the motion out of the corner of her eye, and now accompanied her words with a stinging smack to Mary's right buttock. The agitation this imparted to Mary's lower body, and thence to the prong, was all that was needed to release her long-pent emotions in a noisy and most entertaining orgasm.

  As the resounding smack had attracted a good deal of attention to Mary, the eyes and ears of both audience and performers were focused on her as she writhed and bounced her way to fulfilment on the greasy black cock. The only ones not fully aware of what was happening were the three suckers. They were too intent on their task to look round, but the one servicing Lord Reggie realised something was afoot when the languid aristocrat's stubbornly flaccid member suddenly jerked into urgent rigidity.

  "Two," said Madame coldly. "Now that you have got that out of your system perhaps you will consent to sit still and concentrate on the remainder of the games."

  The exhausted and deeply embarrassed Mary just managed to gasp out a faint "yes, Madame." The worst part of it all was to have been seen in such a humiliating state of abandonment by the three godlike young men - especially Tommy Khan. But as she gradually regained a modicum of composure, and summoned up the will to raise her downcast eyes, Mary was somewhat comforted to see those of Lord Reggie, Tommy Khan, and Mark Gertler turned upon her not in disgust but in admiration and desire.

  When Sir Roger was satisfied that the jockeys were all firm he called forward three more contestants and handed them long supple riding whips. Meanwhile other masters were preparing the virgins. They were collared, and leather cuffs were attached to their wrists and ankles. Susan Metcalfe, a nervous, delicate English girl, began to weep quietly when a master fastened her wrist cuffs to the back of her collar. Denise Monnier and Peggy Ponsonby seemed more resigned.

  It was now time for the master of ceremonies to assign a virgin to each of the young masters. After a moment's thought, or pretence of thought, he sent Denise to Reggie Atterbridge, Susan to Mark Gertler, and the Irish aristocrat Peggy to Tommy Khan. The three virgins were made to straddle the tongues of wood, facing the masters. Their right legs were lifted and draped over the left thighs of the jockeys. Chains were fixed to the right ankle cuffs, drawn round the backs of the chairs, and attached to the left ankles, which were now lifted over the masters' right thighs.

  As soon as both the feet of the three virgins were off the ground they inevitably began to slide down the highly polished wood towards the rampant cocks. The suckers, who had been maintaining the rigidity of these magnificent organs with ardent mouths and fingers, deftly parted the maiden labia and guided their charges into the vestibules of the vaginae, where they throbbed like racing cars on the grid.

  The audience had been so intent on these preliminaries that Sir Roger had been quite forgotten, but now he clapped his hands and stepped in front of the contestants once more.

  "It is a sad reflection upon the morals of our times," he said, with an almost convincing solemnity, "that Maiden Staking is now one of the rarer events in our sporting calendar. I will therefore run over the rules. We now have a team of three slaves attached to each master: the virgin, the sucker, and the whipper. The winning team will be the one which first achieves the defloration of its virgin. This must be an entirely voluntary immolation, for the slightest forward movement on the part of any of the jockeys will instantly disqualify his team. Is that quite understood, gentlemen?"

  Three tense voices answered that it was.

  "The suckers have completed the first part of their duties by preparing the masters for action. They must now withdraw behind the seats, from where they may restrain the jockeys from forward movement, either by advice or by physical pressure. They may also offer verbal encouragement to the virgins. Suckers, to your places!"

  The three slaves scurried round the chairs, and leant over the backs, ready to whisper in the ears of their masters when required.

  "The whippers may fortify the resolution of their virgins by as many lashes as they think prudent, but they must remain at least a yard from their targets so as not to obstruct the view of the spectators. Last but not least, the virgins. They are the stars of the event. The others may encourage, but it is finally up to our maidens to summon up the courage to rupture those nasty maidenheads. They will find that by bracing their ankle chains against the backs of the chairs they can exert considerably forward pressure. The race will continue until each hymen is destroyed. If any virgin is unable to complete the job herself she will be impaled on the decorative spike of one of these seat extensions, and fastened there for the rest of the day. The slaves of the winning team will receive a reward. Those on the second team will be punished. Those unlucky enough to be on the last team will be severely punished. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Sir Roger,” chorused nine frightened voices.

  "The jockey of the winning team will direct the punishment of the team which finishes last. The runner-up will punish his own team. The last jockey will pay for the reward to be given to the winners. Are you all ready, gentlemen? Then slaves, begin!"

  Three whips lashed down simultaneously towards tense and shapely bottoms, but the whippers of Denise and Peggy, in their eagerness to strike quickly and hard, miscalculated the angle of attack required. Their blows glanced off the tongues of wood behind their virgins and landed with muffled effect. Only the young English girl, Susan, received a stroke of real force. It impelled her towards Mark Gertler's stony cock, a legendary weapon in the virgin wars, but the sudden pain of its collision with her hymen sent her into equally rapid reverse. The ankle chains and the slickness of the wood, though, prevented her from dislodging the cock entirely.

  "Much more of that jerking and she'll dislocate her hips," commented Madame. "See how worried the punters are. The prim Miss Metcalfe was the rank outsider, but she's leading at the first bend."

  The anxious suckers were shouting encouragement, but above the screams of the virgins and the roaring of the crowd their words could barely be distinguished. After the first setback the two impetuous whippers tempered their enthusiasm with some science, and began to land solid blows with regularity. Denise scarcely seemed to need their impetus. From the moment the first glancing blow struck her above the waist she had been pressing eagerly against Lord Reggie's shapely tool, but all her thrusts were repelled with almost elastic force.

  "A tough one," Madame confided to
Mary. "I should have guessed it, for otherwise one of her little girlfriends would have burst through it long ago."

  The only team making no progress was Tommy Khan's. Although his whipper was flailing away with growing desperation, Peggy Ponsonby, far from flinging herself forward, was trying with all her might to back towards the painful blows. The fact was that she had a horror of all Asians, and even the stunning good looks of Tommy could not enable her to overcome it. The omniscient Sir Roger had naturally been aware of this prejudice when making his mischievous pairings of master and slave. The sucker was having to cling tightly to Tommy's waist to prevent the frustrated jockey from thrusting. She alternately whispered soothing advice in his ear, and screamed angry exhortations at poor Peggy.

  Her stubborn immobility made it virtually a two horse race. Both Susan and Denise were gratifyingly active, but in very different ways. The delicate English girl, controlled absolutely by the pain from the whip and from Mark's cock, was jerked hither and thither like a mechanical doll. With head thrown back, eyes closed, and mouth wide open in a continuous inhuman yowl, Miss Metcalfe seemed entirely robbed of volition.

  Denise, on the other hand, was flinging herself at Reggie with Gallic enthusiasm. Each rebuff produced a groan of pain and disappointment, but did not in the least diminish the brio of her next thrust. Her whipper, sensibly gauging the situation, confined herself largely to verbal encouragement rather than exhaust her virgin with unnecessary pain. She used light strokes of the whip to maintain the steady rhythm of the French girl's lunges.

  At last perseverance prevailed. Denise heroically flung her breach into Reggie with undiminished ardour. This time she did not rebound, but appeared to have stuck upon the steaming cock. She screamed bloodcurdlingly, and tried, for the first time, to back away. Her whipper, though, had summed up the situation in a flash, and immediately landed her fiercest blow square across mademoiselle's buttocks. Denise jerked forward once more, but this time met no resistance, and only stopped when her pubic bone crashed against Reggie's like a train against the buffers.