The Devil's Surrogate by Jennifer Jane Pope Page B

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before that, unless she's caught by that old fellow from Plymouth
who looks as if just the hunt would cripple him, let alone a good
fuck afterwards.
    'Now then,' he
went on, lowering the pipe and staring straight at her, 'I think
maybe we should do something for those pretty bubbies. I have just
the thing here somewhere, if you'll excuse me for a moment. Don't
you go away.' Laughing to himself, he moved across to the bench
where Sarah heard him rummaging through its contents, until a soft
exclamation indicated he had found whatever it was he was looking
for. It turned out to be what she recognised from illustrations as
a cat-o'-nine-tails, although it seemed much smaller than she had
imagined, and the leather thongs looked much shorter and
lighter.
    Ross brandished it before her, smiling. 'This is what we call
a tit whip , slave.
A fraction the size of the real thing - though we do use the real
thing on a girl's tits if she deserves it, so I should make sure I
behaved myself if I were you - and just right for a pair of lovely
bubbies like yours. See?' He flicked his wrist and sent the
tendrils snaking across Sarah's right breast.
    The thongs
barely made a sound as they fell across her taut flesh, but a wave
of fire shot through her that made her writhe against her bondage
as the painful heat seared her entire being. Another flick of his
wrist, and this time the whip fell across her left breast, at least
two of the leather strands catching her nipple and causing an
explosive sensation that was at once pain and desire.
    'I can see my
little toy is going to have exactly the desired effect today,' he
said, and flicked his wrist two times in succession.
    Despite the gag, Sarah heard a plaintive mewling gurgle she
knew could only have come from her own throat. She knew also, as
the fire began rising inside her, that if it were not for the gag
she would surely cry out for him to stop this new torture and fill
her instead with the weapon she could see bulging against his tight
leather breeches. Anything , she thought wildly as she
closed her eyes and wriggled and gasped beneath the next pair of
assaults, anything had to be better than enduring this unfulfilled agony much
longer!
    And then it
seemed that even Ross realised she could take no more, that she was
hovering over a precipice whose brink, once crossed, might mean the
end of her very sanity, because the steady whipping stopped.
    She opened her
eyes, and as she tried to focus, she saw that he was already
standing naked before her, poised between her widespread knees, his
manhood rearing up as eager for her as she was for it. She felt his
hard smoothness pressing against a portal already wide open and
inviting, its wet lips offering no resistance to entry. Indeed, her
inner tunnel seemed to reach out and draw the throbbing phallus
into her. Yet another cry echoed inside her head, and Sarah neither
knew nor cared if it had sounded out loud or if it was just the
disembodied echo of her absolute surrender.
    'There!' she
heard him gasp, and suddenly she was being filled as fully in the
front as she was in the rear, and this living invader seemed to
merge with the leather one, which felt as if it had sprung to life
inside her. With all her strength she pulled against her bondage,
eager to claim him and desperate to cling to him, but the thick
leather was unyielding, pinning her wide like a trapped butterfly
as his victorious spear began its pumping and thrusting dance of
conquest.
     
    Isobel de
Lednay could barely suppress a grin of triumph as she followed the
maidservant along the wide corridor and down the stairs into the
cellar. Bressingham was a fool, and an arrogant one at that, and
soon she would enjoy taking his money from him, of that she had no
doubt.
    She knew the
Grayling estate quite well, having played here as a child with
Ellen, and she had also seen two of these curious hunts before, so
she knew well enough that although eventual capture was inevitable,
the