Gloria Day: House of dark pleasure

"Just sometimes," she whispered.

"That's normal," Basil said. "You should make yourself come whenever you feel like it-it'll relax you."

"Yes," she nodded eagerly, "it always relaxes me – helps me to go to sleep."

"If you feel like it – do it," he said.

"Yes," she said, her eyes still closed, cheeks still red.

Basil took a small vial from his pocket and shook out a pill.

"If you find it hard to sleep tonight – take one of these." He placed the pill beside his card on her bedside table.

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Will you be an right now?"

"I think so." She opened her eyes, smiled at Basil then pulled up the sheets over her nakedness.

Basil smiled at her, then stroked her face very gently. "You're a very pretty girl, Doris. I hope I'll see a lot of you while you're here."

"Yes," she said, smiling.

"Comfortable?" He slid his hand under the covers, let it glide down her body to the soft, warm flesh of her thighs.

She flinched, pressed her legs together, when his hand went near her crotch; then he took his hand away.

"Remember what I said – if you can't go to sleep."

"You mean?" Her eyebrows were raised.

He smiled, got to his feet. "You can take the pill – or make yourself come – or both."

Doris gave a nervous laugh. "A doctor's never told me to do that before."

"I mean it," he said. He moved toward the door, then said over his shoulder, "Don't forget to come and see me at my office tomorrow afternoon."

"If Missus Wynton doesn't need me!"

"Don't worry about that. I'll tell her."

"Good night, Doctor."

"Good night, Doris," he answered, exiting.

The white, fleshy half moons of Mabel's buttocks stared into Mildred's face as the cook positioned herself over the back of the low chair.

Mildred's eyes glittered and her tongue snaked out to moisten her dry lips. She was wearing a leather skirt which was so brief that Mabel had caught a glimpse of dark pubic hair at Mildred's crotch each time the mistress of Romily Manor moved. The halter was leather, too: a thin strip that barely concealed the firm, well-shaped but not overlarge breasts. Her breasts rose now, as Mildred drew in a deep breath.

"You deserve to be disciplined, don't you, Mabel?" Mildred hissed.

Mabel nodded her head. From past experience she knew better than to speak. All that Mildred wanted from her was obedience – and the use of her soft, naked flesh upon which to vent her weird, sadistic obsession.

When Mabel had entered Mildred's bedroom, the mistress had indicated the familiar chair and Mabel had bent over it, exposing her bare bottom and hoseless thighs for her employer's delectation.

Mildred toyed with the short whip that Mabel had obediently brought her, moved closer to the waiting flesh, then snapped: "Open your thighs more, Mabel – let me see that precious pussy that you adore having sucked. Bend your knees; relax, my dear; enjoy what I'm going to do!"

Mabel stifled a moan, forced her legs to relax and let her thighs part. A trickle of moistness slid from her vulva and ran down the inside of her thigh.

Mildred stooped, stared into the red sexual maw. Mabel's vaginal lips were still curled open as though they had not fully recovered from the sexual session in the pantry. Mildred looked into them, then reversed her grip on the whip – prodded the butt end into Mabel's vagina.

Mabel flinched, instinctively tightening the cheeks of her bottom, gripping the butt, preventing it from entering her.

Mildred jerked the whip angrily. "Relax, Mabel – don't try and stop me!"

A bubbling sound oozed from Mabel's lips. "Don't hurt me, Ma'am – please don't hurt!"

"Relax your legs and your bottom," Mildred hissed.

Shivers of fear ran across Mabel's flesh; then her buttocks grew limp, opened – and Mildred drove the butt of the whip into her cook's vulva.

"Now, isn't that nice?" Mildred slurred as she drove the two-inch wide butt between the vaginal lips.

Mabel took short, jerky breaths as the leather butt penetrated her.

Mildred squirmed around the butt-end, watching the wet tissue clutch at it, ooze out when she pulled down, drag in when she inserted it more deeply. Her hand went to the front of her short skirt and she reached under it, caressed herself as she watched the palpitating vulva.

"You've got a big, wet cunt, Mabel…" Mildred slurred. "D'you like having it fucked?" She jerked the leather butt in deeply.

Mabel felt herself pressed against the back of the chair as the whip-end went in. "Y-yes, Ma'am…" she whispered.

Mildred turned her weapon, twisted it until it was squashed against Mabel's clitoris. She saw the cook become tense.

"You like having your pussy sucked off, don't you, Mabel?" Mildred tormented.

"Uuuuh, yes – aah, yes, Ma'am!" Mabel groaned. The leather butt was titillating her clitoris, bringing on early thrills.

"You like what I'm doing?" Mildred asked in a whisper.

She pressed the leather gently against the head of the clitoris, dragged it down, pushed up with careful, skillful movements.

Mabel arched her back, savored the delicious pleasure of hard leather caressing her sexual tissue. "Y-yes, Ma'am…" she panted, rotating her buttocks gently in cadence with the turns of the butt.

Mildred's eyes glittered more wildly. Suddenly, she withdrew the butt-end, reversed her grip – then brought the thong down on Mabel's writhing, waiting buttocks with all her strength.

The sound of the slap echoed around the bedroom.

"Eeeeeh, Ma'am you're cutting me!" Mabel's frenzied squeal blended with the sound of whipped flesh as Mildred slashed down again.

Two red lines appeared on the fleshy buttocks; Mildred watched them turn white, then red again and she squeezed her thighs together and rocked herself back and forward, tightly and tensely, as though she was experiencing great excitement. Her hand rose again and the whip slashed down, cutting the skin, drawing a streak of blood from the victim's bottom. Mabel squealed again and the sound seemed to increase Mildred's excitement; she rocked herself more quickly, slashed down a rain of blows on the helpless cook's bottom.

Mabel's squeals had changed into a frightened whining sound. She was flattened on the chair back, buttocks protruding obediently, flinching at each slash, and a stream of water was trickling from her vulva and forming a small pool on the carpet.

Mildred gave an extra hard slap, noticed the water between the cook's feet, and taunted: "You can't hold your water, Mabel – you can never hold your water. Take that…" she slashed down with all her strength, "for soiling my carpet – and that!" The whip lashed down again and Mabel's bottom became a quivering, trembling mass of abused flesh.

Mildred stopped her punishment as abruptly as she'd started it. She stepped back, leaned against the end of her bed, breathing deeply through her nose. "Get out, Mabel – I'm through with you."

The cook straightened herself, painfully, letting her skirt drop into place, then reaching under it, caressing her marked buttocks tenderly.

Mildred smiled into her tear-streaked face. "Hurt, Mabel?"

Mabel nodded, and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You like having your pussy sucked better'n that, eh?" The words were vicious and Mildred dragged up the front of her skirt as she spoke, exposed profuse pubic hair and red slitted lips below. She inserted a fingertip in the slit, probed inside herself as she went on talking. "That's all, Mabel – for now…" She laughed, too high. "There's always a next time, isn't there, Mabel?"

She watched Mabel limp towards the bedroom door, then as she was exiting, Mildred raised her voice, called: "Come in, George – it's your turn now!"