The Return of Lady Honoria (4 page)

The little man swung down, put the stool into
place for Honoria and held out his hand. “Thank you, m’lady.” He
leaned in for the barest second to brush his lips over the backs of
her fingers.

Honoria squeezed his hand. “It was my
pleasure.”

The doors opened as Honoria walked up the
stairs, and two women with gilded breasts padded out to take
Honoria’s wrap. Except for the hair on their heads, they’d been
shaved all over and wore thin gold chains strung around their hips
and between their thighs. Honoria tried not to stare, but it was
hard to avoid the way the gold chains chafed their female flesh.
And the men! How on earth did one gild a cock? Surely it
itched.

Michel appeared before her thoughts could
progress much further. “My dear, Honoria! You honor my humble
abode.”

“Michel.” She swept him a curtsy made even
more delicious by the throb in her nether regions. She could tell
by the way his eyes drifted to her breasts that he knew she’d taken
advantage of his hospitality.

He reached down to caress her through the
thin material of her bodice. “You are truly a woman without peer,
mon ange. Come let us get you out of your oh-so-confining clothes
and into something more appropriate.”

He escorted her across the wide marble foyer.
Except for her escort and the coachman, the servants on Michel’s
estate were naked.

“To demonstrate their availability,” he said,
when she asked about it. “It is my dearest hope that you will spend
time with me here, and use them as you see fit.”

He stepped back to allow her to precede him
into a sumptuously appointed room lined with gilded mirrors. Dress
boxes formed a pyramid in the center of the room.

“I ordered these for you,” Michel murmured,
gesturing Honoria to a set of luxuriously appointed stools.

Maidservants removed Honoria’s clothes and
helped her into a tight white leather corset and long white silk
stockings. The corset pushed her breasts together in a way that
made her unfortunate bosom look significant and came down to just
above her hips, leaving her thighs bare.

She turned in front of a tall pier glass and
admired the way her breasts pressed together, nipples exposed by
the cunning lacework. Framed by the pale leather, her flesh looked
deliciously wanton—a sentiment echoed in Michel’s avid gaze.

He swept her into his arms and bent her back,
lips fastened on her distended nub. Despite the pleasure-pain, her
eyelids felt heavy and the room swayed around her. Her face felt
numb, and her knees didn’t want to hold her up. Michel’s tongue
traced her lips and abruptly pushed past the barricade of her teeth
into her mouth.

“At last, you are mine!” He kissed her
passionately.

Honoria was so wet her thighs wouldn’t stay
closed. Panic engulfed her. “What’s wrong with me?” she cried.

Michel caught her upraised fist and used his
greater strength to push her to the floor. One hand locked around
her chin, holding her immobile as he unbuttoned his pants.

Strange hands reached between them and placed
his cock against her, stroking them both. Honoria writhed
desperately, legs open. Michel slammed home, pinning her to the
ground. Her feet bounced as he held her hands out over her head and
took his fill of her unresisting flesh. His face was her only
anchor, his wicked green eyes laughing as he fucked her in front of
his servants.

“Petit maitresse,” he whispered.

The room spun violently, sliding in and out
of focus. Honoria moaned, increasingly unable to move. His tongue
pushed into her mouth while insistent fingers touched her
everywhere, pinching and prodding. The pain and Michel’s harsh
pounding merged as one. She could feel pressure building at the
base of her spine, tightening her entire body.

“That’s it,” he said. “Respond to me.” He
bucked against her violently, grinding the base of his cock against
her clit. “
Cum for me, mon ange.”

Pain clamped her nipples and the scream in
Honoria burst out. Michel groaned loudly, holding on to her hips as
his cock jerked in her depths. Heat flooded Honoria, making her
head swim. Michel pulled out slowly and caressed her with tender
hands.

Honoria throbbed all over, her body painfully
sensitive. “D-dizzy,” she breathed.

“The corset is very special.”

“Y-you drugged me?”

“I enhanced your pleasure and lowered your
inhibitions,” corrected Michel. He lifted her to her feet and
gestured at the nearest mirror. “Look at yourself, Honoria. And see
how very beautiful you are.”

There were red marks all over her body, and
the flesh between her legs and on the slope of her breasts glowed.
Emeralds glittered from golden clamps attached to her rigid
nipples. Her eyes looked heavy-lidded and satiated, her lips
swollen.

Michel brushed the jewels with an approving
noise. “There is a jeweled chain that goes with this. I’ll attach
it once you get used to wearing the clamps.”

His damp length slid between her legs,
pushing at her cum-smeared thighs while his chest pressed against
her back. They were reflected a hundred times over, and in each
reflection the expression on Michel’s face was gloating. “Make no
mistake,” he said softly. “You will only submit to me. No other
will hold dominion over you."

Honoria shuddered. “N-no,” she protested.

“You’re still new,” he said gently. “Trust me
to guide you.”

He was infinitely patient as she learned to
work with the drugged leather, stumbling down the gas-lit hall at
his side. Her nipples throbbed, continuously stimulated by the
weight of the heavy gold.

“They will not come off,” Michel said,
flicking one finger over the emeralds. “They are locked into place
and I have the only key. Do not fight me on this, Honoria. You will
not win.”

Honoria felt divided as the part of her that
enjoyed pain woke at Michel’s bidding. The dizziness was wearing
off, but her intense state of arousal refused to leave. It was a
perversion of what she felt with Danton, but when Michel put her
fingers on the back of his wrist and covered her hand with his own,
everything below her neck throbbed in response. Through
strategically placed mirrors, she saw herself a hundred times
over—swaying languorously, nipples rigid beneath the fantastically
jeweled clamps.

Michel was her dark twin, impeccably dressed
in evening attire, green eyes glittering with something beyond
excitement. The air swam with incense and the carpets were a riot
of plush Persian runners in vibrant jewel tones. He took her hand
in his, and bowed her through the last door. The room was large and
airy, made light with windows set high under the eaves.

“You will enjoy this,” he said, kissing her
knuckles.

“A man?” she questioned. La! But her very
voice was changing, growing huskier and more melodious. She leaned
against Michel, one hand sliding over the taut curve of his ass.
Her nails sank into his flesh and he grinned at her.

“A special servant. I call him Goliath.”

What Honoria had initially mistaken for a
pile of cushions rose from the center of the room and turned into a
tall, muscular man with golden-blond hair. Dressed in simple
drawers with a long drawstring, the thin linen barely hid the
enormous width of his cock.

Michel pulled Honoria closer and idly played
with her nipple clamps.

She eyed the man with interest. “What makes
him special?”

“Training.” Michel’s hand rested on the man’s
heavily muscled shoulder. The man made a panting noise, pushed his
drawers down, and bent over, holding his buttocks wide.

Michel reached around to where Goliath’s
thick, fleshy wand hung rigid. “Magnificent,” he whispered. He
gestured Honoria near. “Feel his balls.”

Honoria ran her fingers over Goliath’s heavy
ball sac. “He trembles.”

Michel laughed. “In anticipation, mon ange.
He is always ready.” He traced his fingers over Goliath’s ass and
abruptly thrust two fingers into the other man’s puckered hole.

Goliath moaned, hips churning as he ground
back against Michel. The way he did his hair and the shape of his
cheek were familiar. Honoria frowned, releasing the silken weight
of his balls. She was sure she had never set eyes on Goliath before
this instant, but she couldn’t rid herself of an odd sense of
familiarity.

“Your first lesson,” said Michel, guiding
Honoria’s hand to the back of Goliath’s neck.
“Down!”
he
said sharply, pushing Honoria’s hand down over the other man’s
neck. “Tell him to get down.”

“Down,” she repeated.

“From here,” said Michel, poking her in the
chest. “Say it deeper. Down!” he repeated.

Honoria’s hand tightened, digging into the
other man’s hair. She didn’t like being told what to do and freed
of her inhibitions, she vented her fury on a man who abruptly
looked like Danton.
“Down!”
she snarled.

Goliath dropped to his knees.

“So much rage.” Michel clapped softly.
“Brava.”

There was something wrong with her. It felt
like fog clouding the inside of her head. She couldn’t focus. The
fog cleared in time to see Michel shackle Goliath to the wall. The
bigger man was fully erect, the tip of his enormous cock wet with
excitement. He shook as she looked at him, his nipples tiny brown
nubs.

Michel smiled slowly, unbuttoned his pants
and squeezed his balls. “Does it not fascinate, mon ange?”

Goliath looked back over his shoulder and
moaned, bouncing his ass out as if daring Michel to take him.
Michel pulled a long wooden paddle from a vase near the door and
hit it against his palm with a meaty thwack before he abruptly spun
and brought the polished length whistling down. Goliath cried out,
grinding his cock against the roughly plastered wall. Michel
spanked him again, harder this time, pushing him forward until he
had nowhere to go. Thick red welts rose on the muscle of Goliath’s
ass, marring the smooth perfection of his skin.

“Beautiful,” said Michel. His cock jutted
from his pants, fully erect and rigid.

He dropped the paddle and parted the swollen
globes of Goliath’s ass to reveal his puckered ring. The tiny hole
looked like it was frightened, but according to Michel—not
frightened enough.

Honoria shivered, her gaze fixed on the
raised red welts. She didn’t recognize her rampant emotions. Her
palms slid down the butter-soft leather of her corset, pressing the
material in tight as she writhed, hands pressed to her crotch.

“He is not ready yet,” Michel told her. “Take
the paddle and finish him.”

Honoria could see her eyes glittering in the
glossy wood. She wanted Goliath to scream. Fear rose off him like
an aphrodisiac. She cupped the heated flesh of his ass roughly.

She would make him scream. Honoria stepped
back and brought the paddle down hard, a smile curling her lips
back over her teeth.

The door slammed open and Danton caught her
wrist, jerking her back against him. “Naughty.”

Honoria stared into his face, her heart
thumping so loudly she thought she would faint. “Danton?”

The pulse racing in his throat was the only
sign he’d heard her. “What game are you playing, Michel?”

Michel laughed softly, one hand wrapped
around the base of his cock. “No game. I missed you, mon cher. Is
it a crime to want what you so foolishly threw away?”

“She’s mine.”

“According to the servants—”

“The servants lie.”

Michel stepped in behind Honoria and slid his
palms up to cup her breasts. The jeweled clasps glittered between
his fingers. She could feel the insistent push of his cock between
her ass cheeks, and the faint tremble to his body. She struggled to
clear her mind.

“Such a pretty little piece,” said
Michel.

She could feel the hot drag of his tongue
over the sensitive cord of her neck and shuddered at the sudden
feel of his bared teeth. The head of his cock slid over her tightly
clenched hole and he laughed, grinding himself into her ass, one
hand twisted in her hair.

“She enjoys pain. We could teach her much,
you and I. Perhaps…we could share?”

The already thin line of Danton’s lips
tightened further. “We are not a couple.”

Michel pushed Honoria away and reached for
Danton. He pushed Danton’s coat back, fingers lingering over the
shorter man’s hardened nipples. “
Liar!
You want me. You
always have.”

He ripped Danton’s shirt open and dropped to
his knees. “Love me!” he cried

Danton stood very still, eyes
heavy-lidded.

Michel pressed his face to Danton’s cock,
suckling the shorter man’s outrageous width through the buff
cloth.

Danton’s face softened. “I’ve changed,
Michel.”

“Not in this! How can you want her when you
can have me? I can give you everything.” He tore at Danton’s
trousers, pressing kisses to his turgid flesh.

“You do not have permission to touch me,”
whispered Danton, his eyes glittering in a way Honoria had never
seen before.

Michel shivered, but didn’t stop.

Danton kicked him over on his back and knelt
to grab Michel’s cock. The muscles in his shoulder stood out as his
fist tightened around Michel’s burgeoning length.

Michel rolled his hips, thrashing wildly.
“Too much!” he screamed. “You’re going to break it.”

“Release the girl.”

“She’s yours!”

“And the man?”

“
Take him
—pour l’amour de Dieu!”
Michel panted harshly, eyes wild as he tried to see down over his
belly to where Danton was slowly crushing his cock. “
Please,
Danton! Please!”

Danton knotted a hand in his hair and jerked
him to his feet. “The keys, Michel.”

Sensation rushing back into Honoria’s nipples
made her fall to her knees with a short cry, hands cupped over her
breasts.