Bertrice Small: Sudden Pleasures

"Nonsense!" Mrs. B. said with a smile. She was a small, round woman with fading strawberry blond hair that she wore in a bun. She was a perfect contrast to her tall, thin husband. "You're too thin, Miss Ashley, as it is."

Ashley laughed. "Bless you!" she said. Then she whistled to the two dogs, who roused themselves and ambled over to her. Ashley took their leads from a hook on the wall where they were hung, fastened them about the dogs' collars, and led them out of the house through the kitchen gardens. Once on her private beach she released Ghostly and Graybar, and let them run as she strolled along.

The sun was getting lower and lower on the horizon when she finally decided to turn back. Whistling for the two dogs, she turned about. She wanted to get well settled before she turned on the Channel. They had done some upgrades in the last year. Now you could simply subscribe to it the way you would any other premium channel. And the remote had a terrific new feature on it: You could have two fantasies ready to go if you wanted, and Ashley did.

In both of her fantasies she was a Roman noblewoman, the lady Cordelia, but the fantasies had slightly different themes. In fantasy A the noble Cordelia possessed a Celtic sex slave named Quinn, whom she used and abused to their mutual pleasure. In fantasy B, Cordelia, visiting her properties in northern Gaul, was kidnapped by a northern barbarian named Rurik, who made her his sex slave, to be deliciously used and only sometimes abused.

Ashley debated about which fantasy she wanted tonight, but she was still feeling cranky about her visit to the offices of Johnson and Pietro d'Angelo today. She felt so damned helpless about the situation in which she was caught. She had no choice in the matter: If she didn't find a husband she would lose everything, and she didn't want to lose everything. She liked her comfortable lifestyle. She loved the mechanics of her business. And if she had to take a husband to keep it all, she damned well would.

"A," she said aloud. "Tonight I need to be completely in charge, even if it's only my fantasy." Arriving back at the house she let the dogs back into the kitchen. Their beds, when they weren't sleeping with her, were in an unused pantry. "Good night, boys," she said, patting the silky heads. The kitchen, she noted, was vacant. Everything was in its place, but it was empty. Mrs. B. had already retired to the apartment where she and Byrnes lived above the kitchen wing of the house. Back in the open foyer of the house she encountered her butler locking up.

"Will you be needing me again tonight, Miss Ashley?" he asked politely.

"No, thank you. Run along, Byrnes. I'm heading upstairs myself," Ashley said as she mounted the stairs. "Good night."

"Good night, Miss Ashley," the butler replied.

Ashley entered her bedroom suite just as the clock on the mantel of the fireplace in her bedroom was striking eight o'clock. Her bed was already turned down, something Byrnes did every night without fail, as Ashley didn't feel the need for a private maid. Stripping out of her pants and tee, she climbed naked into her bed. Picking up the remote, she pointed it at the wall above the fireplace mantel and pressed a button. Immediately the wall slid back, revealing a large flat-screen television. Ashley pushed a second button and the television came to life.

"Good evening, and welcome to the Channel, where your fantasies become your reality," a silky voice purred. "Please press button A or button B, followed by the enter button. Thank you, and enjoy your evening." The screen darkened.

Ashley pressed button A, then the enter button. She experienced a slight sensation as if her insides were being drawn out, and then she was there, in the bedchamber of her villa, standing naked before a silver mirror. "Where is Quinn?" she demanded of her slave woman. "Why is he not here? The day has been long and trying. He should be here! Find him and bring him to me immediately!"

The slave woman scurried off. Ashley viewed her naked body in the mirror. Her hair in her fantasy was long and luxurious. It fell down her back to her waistline. In reality she had short hair, styled in a gamine look. Her nipples were rouged to make them more prominent. She could hardly wait to get her hands on Quinn tonight. She needed to punish him as she was being punished.

The male sex slave came into the bedchamber. He stood six feet, five inches tall. He was totally naked, for he was not allowed to cover himself except in cold or wet weather, and only if his mistress permitted it. His body was perfection, with everything in proportion and nicely muscular. He was devoid of any hair except on his head, and it was bright red-gold. His eyes were bright blue, but before his mistress he kept them lowered unless commanded to raise them. His genitalia were huge, even at rest. They were bound in leather lacings. He knelt before her, his head down.

Ashley slowly licked her lips. "You are not ready for me," she said in a hard, deadly voice. She raised his head up with one finger of her hand, but his eyes remained unfocused, not looking at her. "Why are you not ready for me? Have you not been told you must be ready for me at all times, Quinn?"

"Yes, mistress," he replied low.

"Yet you choose to disobey," Ashley murmured. Her hand ruffled through his thick hair. "Oh, it is a bad slave, it is. You are bad, are you not, Quinn?"

"Yes, mistress," he agreed in a toneless voice.

"Then you must be punished, Quinn," Ashley said. "I will not be disobeyed and defied by a slave. Your bottom must be burnished until it glows and your cock is standing tall and ready for me. Prepare yourself at once!"

The tall slave stood and went quickly to a cupboard, then drew out several items. One was a device consisting of a bar set between two sturdy marble columns. The bar was wrapped first in thick lambskin, which was then covered in silk. The bar could be raised or lowered to accommodate height. From either end of the bar hung short gold chains with gilded leather manacles. Quinn rolled the contrivance into the center of the chamber. He adjusted the bar to fit his height. Returning to the cupboard, he brought forth a leather strap some eight inches wide and an inch in thickness, which was attached to an ivory handle. Bringing it to his mistress, he handed it to her, eyes still lowered, tensing when the fingers of her other hand wrapped themselves firmly about his balls.

"You will quickly get hard for me, won't you, Quinn?" she whispered in his ear, her tongue licking at him.

"Yes, mistress," he replied softly, reaching up to pinch one prominent nipple.

In return she squeezed his balls tightly. Not hard enough to cause him pain, but hard enough to remind him that she was in charge here. "Make yourself ready, then, Quinn," Ashley told him.

He bent himself over the padded bar and fastened the gilded leather manacles about his big wrists. His mistress tilted the bar so that his buttocks were elevated and most prominently displayed. Then he spread his legs slightly apart. She came around to stand directly in front of him. She thrust her mons directly into his face, and his tongue immediately pushed into her slit and sought her clitoris. Her hiss of indrawn breath told him that he had found his target.

"I did not say you could lick me, Quinn. You really are a very badly behaved slave tonight. That clever tongue of yours will not deter me from whipping you." She stepped back just slightly and held out the leather strap to him. "Kiss it, and thank me for what I am about to do," she said softly.

He kissed the strap-a slow, deep kiss. "I would rather this be your succulent lips, mistress, but thank you for the correction you will give me."

Ashley smiled and moved around behind the slave. Raising her arm, she brought it down with all her strength upon his deliciously wicked butt. For the next few minutes the only sound in the room was the strap smacking Quinn's ass, but then, as the color of his buttocks began to glow pink and then a fine burnished red, Quinn groaned. This admission of her superiority let a flood of pleasure fill her. "Are you getting hard, Quinn?" she demanded of him. "I want you as hard as rock." The strap bit into his succulent flesh several more times.