Room 54 - Book Three of The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (4 page)

Mr Wheeler’s lips were almost white from being clamped shut in his desperation not to make a sound and this incur further punishment on himself. His eyes were relentlessly watching, soaking up every detail of the action before him. Jess saw, as she struggled to control her own pulse-rate, that the artist’s dick had begun to leak precome around the edge of his cock-case.

‘Master Philips, blot Miss Sarah please.’

Lee obeyed, pushing a piece of the green paper between the mistress’s legs, before holding it up for inspection.

‘Wet, very wet. In fact, if we compare papers, then I would say that Miss Sarah may well be wetter than Miss Sanders. So this round goes to the clerk.’ Mrs Peters paused, her gaze briefly meeting the glare of her assistant who could see from a look at the paper, that the manageress’s claims were patently untrue. ‘It may well be that you have much better self-discipline, Miss Sarah, but in this game every aspect of bodily control must be considered.’

Jess could hardly believe what she was hearing. Surely there was no physical way you could control how wet you became. Suddenly she realised that it didn’t actually matter who had really won the round, Mrs Peters was determined to take this competition, and both its unwilling contestants, right to the wire.

Chapter Four

‘Final round,’ Mrs Peters announced in her most imperious voice, ‘Master Philips, I need you to assist me to move things round a little.’ Lee nodded as Mrs Peters continued, ‘Ladies, you may relax for a moment.’

Every inch of Jess longed to be touched and she realised just how clever Mrs Peters had been to bring such an abrupt halt to the last round, for she had been on the brink of coming and was convinced Miss Sarah couldn’t be that far behind her.

The presence of Mr Wheeler wasn’t helping Jess’s situation. She saw the frustration in his eyes as he observed Mrs Peters lead Lee into the far corner of the room, and begin to whisper in his ear. The barman then, having nodded in agreement, knelt before Mr Wheeler and began to undo the cock case.

Sam let out a guttural sigh that might have been relief, or might have been in protest, as his shaft was freed, a sigh that morphed into a needy groan as the young man’s fingers deftly played over his taut pink rod.

Mrs Peters studied her lover with critical fascination as the barman continued to massage his cock. Then, her cloak billowing around her, she unlocked Mr Wheeler’s arms, instructed Lee to sit on the window seat next to him, and crisply ordered Miss Sanders and Miss Sarah to kneel before them both.

Stationing herself between her crouched workforce and the artist, Mrs Peters slid her gown to the floor. The heart-stopping thud as the velvet hit the carpet brought a further level of tension to the atmosphere of the Victorian Study. From her position of meek submission, Jess couldn’t see her boss beyond her heeled and laced boots, but could tell from the audible moan of appreciation that escaped Mr Wheeler, that Mrs Peters looked as magnificent as ever.

‘Round Three, the decider if you like, is based on technique as well as stamina.’ As she spoke, the manageress took the chains that had previously fastened Sam to the wall, and used them to tie the men’s wrists behind their backs. Then she collected up Mr Wheeler’s discarded blindfold, took another from the desk, and placed them securely over both of the men’s eyes.

‘Gentlemen, before you stand two beautiful women. One is a fairly naive born submissive, the other a natural dominatrix, who has seen and done more than you can possibly imagine. Yet they could each learn from each other.’

Jess could sense Miss Sarah bristling at this, and she wondered what on earth she could possibly teach her fellow contestant.

‘Please stand, ladies.’ Relieved they were allowed to stretch, both women took the chance to flex their limbs.

‘Listen carefully, gentlemen. Shortly Miss Sarah and Miss Sanders will kneel before you, taking it in turns to give you a blow job. You will not be told who is attending to you. After two minutes of attention the women will swap places. Once you have experienced both mouths you must award each session a mark out of ten. The winner will stay an employee of the fifth floor. The loser will face a further challenge in Room 54. Then, if they succeed in that challenge, it will be decided if both women will be staying at Fables. Should the demand of Room 54 defeat them, then a new vacancy at Fables will be advertised in next week’s paper.’

Already in a state of extreme anxiousness, Jess felt her chest tighten with the prospect of her certain defeat. She was woefully inexperienced at giving blow jobs, and could tell from the glint in Miss Sarah’s eye that this was a game she was more than confident of winning.

‘Edge forward and open your legs wider,’ Mrs Peters addressed the blinded men. Then, taking both her female assistants by the hand, she led them before the men, and with a brief press to their shoulders, pushed Miss Sanders before Lee, and Miss Sarah down before Sam.

Jess wasn’t sure if she was pleased to have the barman first, or if she’d wanted to get Mr Wheeler over with, as she was convinced he was more likely to come, considering the state he’d been kept in all evening.

‘You may use you hands as well as your mouths. Should your appointed partner come, then it is you, not them, who will have lost. Your challenge is to keep them on the brink of satisfaction, but not to tip them over the edge.’

Her eyes glued to the dangerously rigid cock before her, Jess frantically tried to remember descriptions of blow jobs she’d read in the few erotic novels she kept at home. Doing her best to ignore the sheen of sweat prickling across her flesh, and her own body’s lustful craving for a climax, Jess jumped with nervous energy as Mrs Peters called out, ‘Begin!’

Seeing Miss Sarah dive eagerly to the new task, Jess gingerly enveloped Lee’s sticky length and shut her eyes. Relaxing her throat as best she could, she inched forwards, placing a supporting hand beneath his balls, and was instantly rewarded with a mutter of satisfaction. This boosted Jess’s confidence for a second, before panic that he was about to come took over, and she drew back. This sudden loss of sensation however, made Lee moan more, and his dick felt harder than ever.

Faint murmurs of approval were coming from Mr Wheeler, but Jess daren’t open her eyes to see lest Miss Sarah’s obvious expertise made her feel even more inferior.

The two minutes seemed to be taking a lifetime to pass as Jess dredged her memory to recall a particularly erotic scene from one of her kinky novels, and began to copy the actions of the fictional heroine by licking around the tip of Lee’s dick while kneading its base and running a stray finger toward his anus. Again he moaned, but this time the clerk kept up the action, willing his tight cock not to spunk, as the seconds ticked slowly by, as the long forgotten story came back to her.

‘Thirty seconds to go!’

Jess slowed her tongue and began to ease Lee’s shaft deeper into her throat, but rather than pumping against it, she clamped her mouth tightly around him for a few seconds, and then released him briefly, before clamping him again. She could feel his enjoyment of this new move, and was just beginning to enjoy her unaccustomed level of control, when Mrs Peters announced, ‘Time Up. Withdraw.’

Dropping the barman’s dick, Jess risked a glance at his face, hoping she’d made some sort of impact, and would get a good score. The drawn out sigh Lee gave was certainly encouraging, but she felt less hopeful when she saw the smug expression on Miss Sarah’s face. Jess knew without a doubt that Mr Wheeler had been taken right to the edge of climax, and had been left there. It wasn’t going to take much to tip him over now it was her turn to attend to him.

‘Swap.’

Retrieving as much saliva as she could from the back of her throat, Jess moistened her dehydrated mouth and reluctantly knelt before the artist. She would lose this contest. There was little question of that, but Jess was damn sure she’d make it last as long as she could. So she would at least go out fighting with some of her dented pride still intact.

‘Begin.’

Again Jess closed her eyes, but rather than engulf the new shaft, she softly began to blow around its balls and up along the length. The dick twitched, and she could smell the saltiness of his precome, but not the instant explosion she’d feared, and the other two women had undoubtedly expected.

Determined to keep him aroused and gain a decent score, Jess pushed her right hand under his backside, and with an accommodating shuffle from Mr Wheeler, eased the very end of her index finger inside his anus, altering his groans to grunts, as opening her mouth wide, she finally took him within. Barely touching his length but for the lightest caress with her tongue and the briefest touch of the side of her throat, with an aching jaw, Jess subjected Mr Wheeler to a tantalisingly light pressure, while her breathing escaped in puffs from the corner of her lips.

Jess had been concentrating so hard, that she barely heard Mrs Peters’ 30-second-warning, but her concentration was shattered when, from nowhere, a firm hand snaked between her legs and tapped her sodden pussy. Jess couldn’t help but start against the intrusion, and in doing so, suddenly deep throated the artist, triggering climaxes in them both, as Mrs Peters’ treacherous fingers found her clit and pinched it twice in quick succession.

As spunk shot down her throat, Mr Wheeler yelled out with long held back satisfaction, and Jess spasmed with joyous frustrated defeat. There was nothing she could do but let the orgasm rip through her comparatively untutored body.

When the clerk finally stopped shaking; the artist’s come still trickling down her chin, she sat like a statue, waiting for the oncoming storm of outrage from Mrs Peters and gloating from Miss Sarah. She didn’t want to look at any of the other people in the study, and an angry realisation dawned on her. She was willing to bet that Miss Sarah hadn’t been interfered with, only her. Once again they had intended for her to fail from the start, and when it looked as if she might actually complete the challenge, Mrs Peters had interceded so she’d lose. For the first time, Jess began to wonder just how much of a set up this had all been.
Did Miss Sarah know she was going to be included in this session all along?

Jess sagged with a feeling of hopeless exhaustion.
Well, they’ve got what they wanted.
Her stomach clenched into a sharp knot as she wondered what she would have to face next.

Chapter Five

They’d allowed her a shower, a light meal, a large drink of water and three hours in one of the guest rooms to sleep. Jess hadn’t slept though. Her body ached too much, her backside throbbed, and the spectre of what might await her behind the door of Room 54 had become more lurid and horrific by the minute. When the knock on the door that told Jess they were ready for her finally came, she was more relieved than frightened.

The room was white. Walls, ceiling, door and even the blinds pulled over the windows were white. A bare light bulb hung from a central white cable.

Jess had expected complicated instruments of correction, items of submission that would make the dungeon seem as if it was merely somewhere to play. She had mentally prepared herself for a scene from an extreme porn film. What she hadn’t expected, was virtually nothing.

Only three items met Jess’s gaze. First, in one corner of the room was the habitual camcorder. Secondly, a large white rimmed television, with no visible means of switching it either on or off, had been fastened in the centre of one wall. However, it was the third item that made her blood chill and dominated all her attention. A large white rope hammock had been strung across the room, attached by a pivot system to a sturdy white wooden frame.

She didn’t waste her energy bothering to protest as Miss Sarah and Lee hoisted her naked body, face down, into the hammock. But Jess couldn’t prevent her cry of alarm, as the rope net swung alarmingly. Her cries increased as Lee’s fingers dragged her tits through two of the gaps in the wide rope weave. Crouched beneath the hammock he pulled at her tender flesh until both her breasts were poking through as far as it was possible for them to go.

Rough and prickly, the rope irritated Jess’s captive chest as well as squeezing it into a strange shape. The tight band around the base of each globe dug savagely into her skin, while the remainder of her tits hung down, feeling oddly free by comparison, and yet immensely vulnerable.

Jess’s face was pressed firmly against the hammock, the criss-cross of white rope chaffing her cheeks and chin as Miss Sarah manoeuvred her, forcing her jaw open so she had little choice but to bite into a section of the rope, as if she was a horse champing a bit. With her hair flopping down at the side of her face, Jess peered through the gaps in the hammock to the floor, her eyes watering at the sheer whiteness of it all.

There was no need to tie her feet and hands. Feeling she resembled a beached whale, Jess’s only way of getting out of the hammock would be to rock hard enough so she fell out, and that would mean risking ripping her breasts from her body.

Wriggling in an attempt to become marginally more comfortable made the hammock swing again, and Jess, her heart pounding at every pulse point in her body, looped her fingers through the thick net, a squeal of alarm escaping from the corners of her mouth. Her terror seemed to amuse Miss Sarah as Lee grabbed her knees and wedged them firmly in between two of the gaps in the weave, securing her as firmly as if she’d been knotted into place.

Jess wondered if Lee or Miss Sarah had been allowed to come since their encounter in the study. They were both dressed again now, and Jess felt an irrational stab of jealousy to think they could have enjoyed each other without her. The thought made her sigh. Here she was, captured in a headache-inducing white room against a hideously uncomfortable rope bed, and yet she was envious of her tormentors. She knew once and for all there was no way she could leave the Fables now.
If only they’d tell me what I’m supposed to do.

At last her mute companions finished getting her into position; face down, bosom trapped, legs apart. Miss Sarah knelt beneath Jess’s head and stared up at her, ‘I’ve been instructed to inform you that you will stay here until Mrs Peters considers you worthy, or not, of life on the fifth floor. A few people will come and go. Sometimes they’ll have been given permission to let you come.

‘This is the ultimate endurance test. It’s all about stamina; the most important skill to have here, and in one way or another, we’ve all experienced the hammock.’ Then Miss Sarah reached up and kissed Jess’s cheek through the net and whispered so the camcorder couldn’t hear, ‘I was in on the last challenge, you were right in your suspicions. Such fun to watch the confusion on your face.’

Jess was abandoned then, the pressure from the ropes making her breasts ache and swell despite the gravitational pull. The quiet air they left behind them seemed to vibrate off the walls. Jess spat out the rope gag, but her attempts to look around her made the hammock quiver, and sent spasms of pain along every nerve in her chest, which she’d begun to worry might be permanently damaged if she moved too much. Jess could imagine her hidden audience laughing as they watched her via the webcam. Wishing it would stop swaying, she gripped harder, wrapping her fingers and toes deeper around and under the rope bed.

While tensing her body in her continuous attempts to remain motionless, the faintest of sounds filtered through Jess’s consciousness. At first she couldn’t work out where it was coming from, but as the gentle hum grew in volume, she realised that the television screen on the wall to her left had been activated.

Very carefully, Jess craned her neck to see what was on the screen, but the hammock shifted and fresh bursts of pain tore through her tits, and so she sank bank onto the bed, clamping the rope back between her teeth for extra safety.

The volume from the television’s speakers continued to grow, and Jess’s imagination was incapable of not going into overdrive as she heard her own voice. It was her and Lee in the school room. The barked orders of Mrs Peters filled Jess’s ears as she recalled that day; stretched over the desk, tormented, tied and teased. Jess realised with an abrupt clarity, as she pictured Lee wielding the paintbrush over her flesh in time to the echo of her groans, that being been made to wait so long for her climax that day had been a valuable lesson to surviving life on the fifth floor.

Jess’s breasts throbbed. She could feel them chaff and her nipples harden as her tired body was re-aroused to the reverberation of her own pleasure. On the screen Lee was bringing her to orgasm. Again, Jess felt compelled to see the television, but the metal cogs that supported the hammock against its frame squeaked perilously, and although it only rocked slightly, Jess’s body clenched with fresh discomfort, and the fear of being tipped onto the unforgiving shiny white-tiled floor.

With the room resounding to her own sighs and moans, Jess’s pussy felt slick in sympathy with her past desires. She wanted to block out the noise with her hands, but daren’t let go of the ropes. She couldn’t believe how badly her exhausted body wanted some fresh attention; any attention.
If only they’d start whatever they are going to do
. Echoes of her previous climaxes had died down on the television, and a few seconds of quiet soothed Jess for a moment, only to be replaced by the unmistakeable hum of a cane being arched through the air. Jess’s body flinched in sympathy, and she clenched her arse cheeks in automatic response to the memory of the old assault.

When was it? Who’s on the receiving end?
Jess searched through her recent past, and suddenly recognised the muted cries of Master Paul, the very first guest she had encountered at Fables. That meant the whip hand belonged to Miss Sarah, and Jess’s crotch spasmed in instant recognition of that fact. She could see her so clearly in her mind, their exercise sessions imprinted on her brain and body forever. The stamina she’d been teaching Jess to develop was really coming into its own now.

Jess’s thoughts froze as the door behind her opened, and unseen feet padded across the floor.
Male,
Jess thought,
male with bare feet, and turned on if the quality of his breathing is anything to go by.

She didn’t try and look at the visitor for fear of moving the hammock. Jess didn’t think it was Lee, but supposed it might be Sam Wheeler, or maybe even a paying guest; one of Mrs Peters’ regulars enticed by the chance to assist with her tutelage; Mr Proctor perhaps?

The footsteps stopped, and Jess thought the newcomer must have paused to watch the television. The gasps that were oozing from its speakers were a mixture of her own as Mrs Peters massaged her clit, and Master Paul’s as Miss Sarah ordered him to attend to her chest.

The pause was short lived. Rough fingers pulled at her legs, widening them carelessly, making the hammock sway once more. Crying out in anguish for her breasts, Jess fought to relax her limbs to make their manoeuvring easier. At last, with knees bent outwards and forced through new holes, her feet hooked over the sides of the hammock, the calloused hands, which Jess was now convinced she’d not felt before, let her go and the footsteps disappeared from the room, the door shutting behind him.

She felt more precarious than ever as the television switched to the voice of Miss Sarah ordering her to do ten more sit ups. Instantly her mouth could taste the memory of the mistress’s pleasingly rough areoles, and Jess had to swallow back the urge to scream for them to get on with whatever they were planning. The volume of the film increased again and Jess’s own whines as her past self was ordered to ride the exercise bike while holding in love-balls became merged with her new tears, as the discomfort and frustration of her inaction began to wear her down.

She didn’t hear the door to Room 54 being re-opened above the crescendo of noise coming from the speakers. Jess could do nothing to block out the sound of her on screen orgasm, and even less to remove the images that played in her head of all the mouth, lips, tongues and fingers that had traced their way over her body during the past month. Not to mention the whips, canes and countless other instruments of erotic and exotic instruction she’d so recently experienced.

When hands came to her pussy, Jess thought she was dreaming it at first, that they’d spilled over from the fantasy world that her short confinement in the white room had brought her. It was only when a hasty digit pushed its way through the rope weave and up inside her that Jess realised the sensation of being filled at last was actually real.

As the anonymous finger was joined by a hand, squeezing and kneading at Jess’s cunt, scraping her clit until the knot of climax gathered in her stomach, Miss Sarah came and stood in front of her. Bleary eyed, the clerk tried to focus on the mistress, her brain registering that if she was standing there, then someone else was playing with her. Another female if the length of fingernails and texture of the skin was to be believed.

‘Do you see what I have here, Miss Sanders?’ Miss Sarah knelt beneath her, staring up into Jess’s dull eyes, holding up a large plastic, clear, hollow dildo. It was thicker than any sex toy Jess had ever seen.

Blinking back her disbelief that anyone could accommodate such a tool, Jess’s eyes strayed to the crouched woman’s breasts, half hidden and half exposed by a deliciously tight-laced soft-brown leather basque.

She shouldn’t have looked. The fingers between her legs had increased activity, pushing and pumping at her cunt, while a fingernail flicked relentlessly at her clit. Jess couldn’t help it, and was too exhausted to battle her own feelings. With her eyes fixed on Miss Sarah, and the possibilities of what she and the two inch thick dildo she was holding might bring, Jess spasmed violently.

Miss Sarah shot a hand out to steady the hammock, which swung against the force of Jess’s orgasm, as the unknown fingers slid away. Bathed in sweat, the final tremors of the clerk’s climax trembled through the coarse rope against which she was trapped.

‘Better?’ Miss Sarah’s voice was inescapably sarcastic, and Jess didn’t answer. ‘You need to be more careful, Miss Sanders. Your chest could easily have become damaged if I hadn’t been here to hold you steady.’ She stroked the end of each hanging globe with her palm. Jess cried out, the mix of pain and desire making fresh tears spring into her eyes.

‘They are so red, right now.’

Another sound filtered into Jess’s consciousness. Lee appeared in her eye line. He was naked now, and the hungry expression that he hid so well when he was on duty behind the bar was in full evidence. He held up a harness that Jess recognised as being of the same style as the chastity belt she’d worn before, although it lacked the sheepskin irritant. ‘This is going to be threaded through the hammock’s rope, and strapped around you. It will keep the dildo nicely in place.’

Disappearing beneath Jess, he pushed the strap through a hole in the hammock, tugging and pinching her flesh as he worked. When at last the leather belt was in place, Miss Sarah held the hollow plastic dildo back up in front of Jess’s face before passing it to the barman.

Desperately trying not to tense up even more, Jess felt the thick tip against her opening. For a second she thought perhaps her senses had tricked her eyes into thinking it was wider that it really was. A moment later she knew her initial assessment had been correct. Despite being wet, uncertainty and fear had locked Jess’s muscles, and as Lee jammed the clear shaft inside her, she let out a strangled whimper around the edges of the rope.

Taking no notice of her discomfort, Lee delighted in spending an agonisingly protracted ten minutes easing the dildo in place, before securing it with the chastity belt.

Sore where the itchy hemp touched, stretched further open than she’d ever been before, and with breasts that felt as if they were both on fire and numb at the same time, Jess hardly dared breathe as without a word her companions left the room.

It was only after they’d gone that Jess attention returned to the television, and her torment was immediately increased by the reverberation of her own howling, as she was spanked in the school room. Flushing with renewed shame, she remembered how badly she’d needed to feel the sting that day. Her backside, the buckle from the belt digging in just above her vulnerable arse cheeks, tingled as the remembrance of each slap reverberated around the white walls.

An anxious lump formed in Jess’s throat. With her torso trapped and her pussy jammed with the uncomfortably stout and yet frustratingly light dildo, she realised that the only thing left for her next visitor to abuse was her backside.