ThePleasureDevice (14 page)

With experienced precision, he nipped at her now-hardened
peak. Her body convulsed in orgasm, collapsing in his waiting arms.

“Please,” she begged. “You must stop.”

“Whatever for, my darling?”

“Because I hate you now, you monster.” Even she realized her
plaintive pout was pathetic.

Julius let out a sharp laugh as he draped her
pleasure-weakened body over his shoulder. She struggled, futilely, of course.
He was stronger than his lean frame led one to believe. His strength had always
surprised her, her willingness to let him subdue her had always frustrated her.

He took her downstairs to his office, ably unlocking the
door with his free hand. Once inside he laid her gently on the examination
table right in front of what she realized was his electro-mechanical vibrating
device.

Lavinia studied the contraption with wonder. A small wooden
peg was screwed at a ninety-degree angle to a brass baton, which looked to be
the housing for a machine. It sat on a tray attached to a cart, a flexible
cloth hose leading down to a motor on a lower shelf.

“Ah, you are admiring my latest acquisition? It turns on
down here at the motor,” explained Julius. “Electricity goes through the hose
to the wand,” he picked it up, “which contains a small engine and causes the
end to vibrate.” He pointed to a tray in the middle of the cart. “As you can
see, there are various shapes which can be affixed to the end.”

Lavinia glanced at the rubber attachments. One, to her utter
astonishment, perfectly resembled a penis. She gasped.

Julius chuckled. But his mirth was short-lived.

With the nimbleness and dexterity of a wrestler, Julius
flattened her against the table, strapping her arms at her sides. Despite her
kicks he grabbed her legs, securing those in metal holders attached to the
edge. He pushed up her skirts and tore open her drawers at the split in the
crotch.

He leaned over her face, an eyebrow raised sinisterly. “Remember
those games we used to play? As I recall, you enjoyed being tied up.”

“Oh God, Julius, please, don’t.” Back then he would torment
her with swats from a paddle and stings from a switch. What would he do to her
now?

“I think it best you experience firsthand what the lovely
Helena Phillips will feel. You’ll come to accept she should not be denied such
pleasures herself.”

Lavinia sucked in air.

“Don’t bother about screaming, my dear.” His hand cupped her
mons. “The deaf Mrs. Jennings is in her room on the upper floor. And Grace is
probably watching at the keyhole. She likes to watch.”

Lavinia tried desperately to not expose her inexorable
excitation as his finger massaged her expertly.

“Good,” he said smugly. “How lusciously wet. You arouse so
quickly,” he leaned in to brush his lips against her ear, “just like I
remember.”

She hated her body for giving in so readily to his touch.

Julius grabbed the wand and applied a small rubber tip, then
bent down and flipped the control to the motor. The most fascinating whirring
noise ensued.

Holding her gaze with his own, Julius brought the
oscillating end of the vibrator down and gently pressed it against her
clitoris.

Lavinia yelped in shock, almost fainting from the
overpowering sensation.

It was like nothing she had ever experienced before, nothing
like the insistent solitary finger of a lover. This was one thousand fingers
stimulating her all at once, their ministrations filling her entire body with
ripples of aching desire, rolling into waves of lubriciousness, curling,
peaking, hovering, retreating to begin all over again. Her mind reeled from the
chaos, grasping at each instance of pleasure, reaching urgently as it
dissipated only to be quickly replaced by another assault to her muddled
senses.

“It helps to close your eyes, my dear. Think of happier
times between us.”

His smooth voice conjured up erotic memories—a masquerade,
her husband’s study, the beach at midnight—intensifying the sensations, helping
her to focus. Sharp pleasures surged forth, this time she held on, gripping
tighter, undulating with the sensual upswell, wrapping herself around each
crest, sliding down with a moaning sigh, to be tossed once again in a sea of
decadence. She did not want it to stop.

Yet an end was inevitable, and the dreaded harbinger of
culmination reared its unwanted finality against the waves of endless pleasure.
She struggled to tamp it down, to prolong the lulling voluptuousness, but her
climax was stronger than her resolve. She gave in, her senses shattering as she
screamed her carnal completion.

She lay on the table, panting, puffing, absolutely stunned
by what had just happened. It had been the most extraordinary feeling, beyond
anything she could have imagined. Helena would certainly succumb to any man who
could deliver such a pleasure.

Julius chuckled.

Lavinia’s eyes flew open. Her tormentor loomed above her.

“I’m not finished with you yet, my dear.”

In one swift movement he loosened her bindings and pulled
her down toward him at the end of the table, impaling her on his iron-hard
cock.

She shrieked. She was too tender, too sensitive. “Julius,
please, I—”

Her orgasm was unexpected. How could her body still not be
satisfied?

Julius let out an arrogant groan of approval. “So delicious,
so—”

Lavinia clenched around him, stifling a cry.

His piercing blue eyes bored into hers, mockingly, angrily. “Very
good, darling. Let’s have another, shall we?”

Oh but she hated him! There was a time when she loved their
games, but now his cool condescension was as stultifying as his prick was
arousing.

Her third orgasm left her utterly spent.

Sensing her submission, Julius concentrated on his own
culmination. He thrust into her with a familiar rhythm, quickly building speed.

Lavinia could not help but climax again.

His fingers tightened cruelly on her thighs, his pace slowed
imperceptibly, his breathing became labored. She knew the signs when he was
about to spend.

“Julius, please, pull out. I’m not prepared.”

“Pity,” he growled. “You should always be prepared when you
come see me, my dear. But don’t worry. Your doctor-lover can take care of any
consequences. You remember, Lavinia, like what I did.”

He slammed into her one last time, holding his hips against
hers, twitching inside as he emptied himself into her.

Abruptly, he pulled out.

“You won’t change my mind, Lady Foxley-Graham,” he said as
he wiped his cock with a handkerchief. “No matter what the aristocracy thinks.
Sophia already has shocked the ton with her marriage to an American
businessman. No one will think twice about the daughter marrying a man of the
professions. Poor girl was simply not raised properly, is what the gossips will
say.”

Lavinia tried to steady her ragged breaths and the beating
of her angry heart.

“Go. Back to your lover. Do not meddle in my affairs again.”

Lavinia dressed, then left, defeated. She hated Julius. But
even more, she hated her body for still wanting him.

“Telegram for you, Mr. Phillips. It arrived this morning.”

Joseph Phillips took the card from the concierge at the New
York hotel. “Thank you, Jones.” He glanced quickly at the dispatch. London. “So
they found me, eh?”

The pert Mr. Jones smiled boyishly. “It’s a big country,
sir, but I’ve learned in my work that if someone wants to find you, you’ll get
found.”

Joseph chortled and took the missive to the lounge, finding
a quiet corner with an opulently overstuffed chair. He sank into the cushions,
feeling his muscles and bones relax in relief. His trip to New York had been
unexpected. The anarchical violence of the Western states had proved too much
even for a hardened businessman like himself. He abhorred that he had to carry
a gun in order to build a railroad. It smacked of barbarity, not of progress.

So, whatever the news was in the telegram, it was important
enough that it had been delivered to a place where he was not meant to be, a
place where he only might be if someone were looking everywhere for him.

He read the note. His heart fell briefly before it tightened
with irritation.

The correspondent, the Countess of Banbury—Charlotte, as
Joseph preferred—was absolutely correct. He should come home to England
immediately. He would arrange passage on the next ship out and he’d be across
the Atlantic in just over a week.

He crumpled the card. What the hell had Sophia been thinking
to allow an engagement to a commoner? It was not what they had agreed on for
Helena. And a man in the professions, no less. A doctor.

Joseph sighed, wondering just what this doctor looked like,
imagining a suave seducer in a well-tailored suit. Marriage to a highly
passionate woman had its distinct advantages, but every once in a while it had
its definite drawbacks as well.

* * * * *

Nicholas had forced himself to congratulate Julius on his engagement
when he saw him that morning in the office. What else could he do? His patients
still needed him, and he still needed to maintain some sort of cordial working
relationship with the villain until he found another situation. Lavinia had
promised she would help him get out—had insisted on it, really.

She had arrived at the doorstep of his flat late the night
before, disheveled and in tears. She confessed all that had happened when she
went to see Julius, was deeply ashamed that she had let him degrade her and
desperately needed Nicholas to console her.

And while he had helped her with a vinegar douche, then held
her wretched form in his arms throughout the night, Nicholas felt the sting of
reality. He had willingly given up his claim to a title. Had he not done such a
rash thing, possibly he could have pleaded his case to her parents. But now all
was lost. Helena could never, would never be his.

“And then we can become lovers?”

He consoled himself by imagining their trysts in third-floor
bedrooms, his fantasies disregarding the certainty that Julius would never let
his perfect bride out of his sights. His only hope was that Helena’s father
would disallow a marriage to the corrupt doctor. Most likely, though, by the
time Mr. Phillips arrived on the scene Helena would have been violated, then,
her innocence lost, discarded by the vile man. At that point Nicholas would
step in and offer his hand.

It would be a dreadful way to start a marriage. But he would
have saved his love from a lifetime of depravity.

Nicholas tried to go on with his workday as if nothing were
wrong. His patients sensed his sullenness, some even attempted to cheer him up.
He choked up when he saw beautiful, bouncing babies, his failed fantasy kicking
him in the gut with the realization that such happiness would not be part of
his future.

Mrs. Jennings had even noticed his mood and gave him an
extra-large slice of pie with his afternoon tea. He had skipped his midday meal
due to lack of interest in food, but was starving by four o’clock. Grace came
to take his tray away.

“There’s no more here to see you, Dr. Ramsay,” she said
spiritedly.

“Thank you, Grace. I think, then, I will go home.”

“Very good.” She stood a little too close to him as she took
his cup and saucer from his desk. “I think you should know, Doctor,” she began
very quietly, “that she’s coming here tonight.”

Nicholas gasped in horror. “Helena?”

“Yes. He’s sending around a carriage at nine. She’s to have
a ‘private consultation’, I think that’s what Dr. Christopher said. I’ve been
told to disappear as soon as I’ve shown her in.”

“Oh God.” His heart sank. He sat frozen at his desk, not
quite sure what to do. He didn’t want to stay but he didn’t want to leave,
either. He wanted to be there for his love.

Grace bent down closer to his ear. “I think maybe you should
make sure he sees you when you leave just now. I can let you back in through
the service door when it gets dark out.”

It sounded like Grace had a plan. “And then what?”

“You get to her first. Tell her to go back home. I know a
cab driver what can take her. I’ll have him waiting. You’ll accompany her, of
course.”

She had certainly thought things through.

“Yes, that could work. But wouldn’t it be easier if I just
stop her from getting into the carriage in the first place?”

“Dr. Christopher’s got a man watching her house. Probably
because of you.”

“Good God!” Nicholas growled. He raked his fingers through
his hair. “So what if I do come here and stop her? How will we cover it up? The
doctor will wonder where she is.”

“We’ll have her send a note around saying she felt ill in
the cab or had second thoughts and she found her way home. You’ll have to take
her directly home and won’t be able to get out of the cab yourself or you’ll be
seen.”

It seemed Grace had worked out every last detail. “Oh. I
see.” Nicholas had to think the whole scheme through before he agreed to it.
Dr. Christopher could be a bit of a brute when he was upset, and if things did
not go his way—as Nicholas and Grace were planning—he would be very upset.

But then again, Helena was to be violated. Nicholas simply
had to save her no matter what.

“Yes,” he finally agreed. “I’ll come by around eight-thirty
tonight. Be waiting for me at the service door because I don’t want to have to
knock. Any unusual noise will be suspect.”

Grace took his hand and smiled. “Thank you, Dr. Ramsay.”

* * * * *

Julius drew in a deep breath, savoring the night, feeling
something wonderful, something electric in the air. He hadn’t frigged himself
all day anticipating the evening’s events. He sat back in his office chair and
closed his eyes to better hear the sound of her approaching carriage, her
footsteps in the hall, her tender voice call his name, smell the fragrance he
had requested she wear. The anticipation made him remarkably hard.

He started at a noise coming from downstairs. He’d thrash
Grace if she did anything to disrupt—or, God forbid, prevent—his escapade.
Helena wasn’t expected for about twenty minutes. He left the peace of his
office to investigate the unwelcome disturbance.

He certainly didn’t expect to see Dr. Nicholas Ramsay in the
servant’s hall.

“What the devil are you doing here, Ramsay?” he said with
calm annoyance.

Ramsay’s eyes betrayed the seething acrimony roiling inside.
“I wanted something in my office,” he said curtly. “I thought maybe the service
door would be unlocked as I’ve forgotten my key.”

“It will have to wait for tomorrow.” Julius pointed to the
back door. “Out. I’m busy and I cannot let you upstairs.”

Ramsay did not move. The space between them lay thick with
tension. Something else was going on. Something else indeed.

Ramsay narrowed his eyes. “If you must know, I left some
medicine for Lavinia on my desk. I’ve got—”

“Well, get it at a chemist’s. There’s a man open all night
up on King’s Road and, I don’t need to remind you, you’re a doctor.” He had no
time to put up with this nonsense.

But the young man hesitated, seemingly in no hurry to get
badly needed medicine for his ill lover.

“Ramsay, I will not tell you again—out.”

Ramsay pursed his lips and exhaled with an annoyed growl
before turning to leave. Julius watched him close the door behind him and
listened for his footsteps as he walked away.

Then he ran up the stairs to Ramsay’s office, threw open the
door, and looked around. Everything was in its proper place. Everything. The
damn room was even cleaner than it had ever been when he himself had occupied
it. He glanced at the desk. Also clean, notebooks stacked neatly. There was no
medicine.

He ran halfway down the stairs and spied Ramsay quietly
returning through the back door.

Damn. He should have locked it.

Ramsay looked around before stepping onto the bottom tread.

You bloody fool.
“You’re not going anywhere, son.”

The young doctor looked up in frozen surprise.

Julius lunged at him.

Ramsay’s shock quickly jolted into fury when Julius knocked
him down, sending them both tumbling onto the hard floor. Ramsay was quick to
push his knee between Julius’ thighs, clamping his other leg on top, squeezing,
gaining leverage to try to twist Julius to the floor. It was a surprising move.

But Julius was on top and had the advantage.

He grabbed Ramsay’s thigh and pulled up, leaning over him,
pushing his near shoulder to the ground opposite. Ramsay struggled against the
counter-twist, releasing his hold to gain leverage, giving Julius the opportunity
to crush him to the ground facedown.

“You forget I also spent time in the Near East.” He hadn’t
had to use such a dangerous maneuver for a long time, but his body still
remembered the skills.

Then, in one final swift move, Julius grabbed Ramsay’s right
arm and twisted it deftly behind his back.

“Ow!”

Julius smiled to himself. Ramsay would know such a lock hold
could do more than just immobilize him. “Keep your mouth shut and I won’t
fracture the bone,” Julius sneered. “It would be rather troublesome to explain
to your patients how their doctor had broken his arm.”

That hit a nerve. The young man relented.

“Now get up.”

And like the intelligent young man he was, Ramsay complied.

Adding a pinch to his victim’s hand, Julius steered him up
the basement stairs and toward a low door behind the stairs to the upper
floors. A door, from the look on his captive’s face, he had never noticed.
Julius opened it and pushed Ramsay through.

The room was dark save for the soft glow coming from the
hall behind them and a brighter light coming through a small hole in the wall.

“What the hell is this place?” asked Ramsay in utter
astonishment, his head bobbing back and forth, up and down, trying to take in
his surroundings.

Julius tightened his grip and pushed him farther into the
room. “You will do as I say or I cannot entirely guarantee her virtue.”

That hit an even bigger nerve. “Yes, of course,” he mumbled.

It had been a very long time since Julius had used the room
for its intended purpose. From time to time, he checked the equipment to make
sure it was in working order, just in case. It was not long after Grace had
joined his staff that he had noticed the peephole in the wall. He had left it
there, thinking no harm would come from a randy girl watching him bring the
occasional female patient to climax. Now he realized how useful it could be.

“Left arm up,” he commanded, still holding on to the right.

Ramsay obeyed and watched in disbelief as Julius strapped
his arm into a leather manacle hung by a chain from the ceiling.

“Other arm.”

Ramsay was too stunned to do otherwise. With the looming
threat to his precious Helena, he simply complied and let Julius strap him into
the other binding.

The foot bindings were just as easy.

“If you wish to watch the proceedings, you may.” Julius
pointed to the peephole as he narrowed his eyes at Ramsay.

The idea astonished the lad. His mouth fell open in shock.

That would simply not do.

Julius went to a small cupboard and took out a length of
knotted leather. To be extra careful, he shoved his handkerchief in Ramsay’s
mouth before gagging him.

When he was finished, his attention was diverted by a noise
upstairs.

“Ah, the carriage,” he said with a taunting smirk. “And
right on time.”

* * * * *

The chill of anxiety crept up Nicholas’ spine. Or perhaps it
was astonishment. Or discomfort. His arms and shoulders were terribly
uncomfortable. His neck and jaw too. The bindings were not altogether tight, it
was just that he had never been in such a position in his life, even when he
had been captured by Turkic tribesmen in the wilds of Asia.

Thoughts flooded his mind. Thoughts of Dr. Christopher
having such a peculiar thing as a bondage room. Thoughts of how he might use
it. Of course Nicholas was not so innocent he did not know such things existed,
he had just never seen, much less been in such a place. Then of course there
was Helena. Beautiful Helena coming to visit the man of her own free will. A
man who had a bondage room.
Christ!
Nicholas struggled futilely against
his bindings in frustration and growing anger.

She was there now, in the examination room, talking very
politely to Dr. Christopher. All could be seen through the hole in the wall,
and Nicholas watched every detail with immense interest and horror.

At the doctor’s direction, she disappeared behind a screen
for a spell, reappearing almost utterly devoid of clothing. She wore only her
chemise and stockings, thin, delicate garments that clung to every sensuous
curve. The fine linen gently draped around her perfect breasts, her nipples,
hardened from the slight chill of the room, tented the fabric. She did not
blush but appeared to be somewhat comfortable, perhaps confident, in her state
of undress. She was innocence, beauty and desire all at once, and Nicholas could
not stop staring. His mouth watered, wetting the crumpled cloth silencing him,
as his cock stirred flagrantly between his bound legs.