The Dark Library (14 page)

She could do nothing, as the orgasm rolled
over her like a freight train, screaming, battering her senseless
with the force and power of its sensations. Only the chains locking
her wrists and ankles in places kept her from reeling away and
collapsing, and he continued to thrust into her, continued to drive
his big cock achingly deep into her belly as her head jerked and
rolled bonelessly, mouth wide, eyes slitted.

Her strength left her, and she collapsed,
dazed, only the chains holding her up, moaning exhaustedly even as
he continued to ram his hips into her buttocks. Then he slowed and
stopped, and she moaned in dazed relief, her insides aching as he
eased back, her wrists on fire. She forced her muscles to work,
forced her legs to straighten beneath her, and then groaned, face
pressed against the beam, eyes slitted as her chest heaved.

It was all simply insane. It really was. But
God help her it was good!

The “properly elegant gown” Carling had
insisted she wear, and had provided to her, was certainly elegant,
after a fashion, but Hannah doubted anyone would call it proper.
Certainly it wasn’t what a proper young lady ought to be wearing in
public. It was dressy, though, and long. But it was also extremely
form-fitting, low cut, and slit up the right all the way to the
hip! He had also provided four inch stiletto heels to go with it.
She would have liked to have refused, but the dress was too long
without them, and she hadn’t brought any high heels.

She had been dubious, to say the least, but
for a small, intimate dinner for just the two of them it wasn’t
like it really mattered. He’d seen everything before, after all.
She had to take short steps as she walked down he broad corridor,
and careful steps, as well, for she had little experience in very
high heels.

She felt rather elegant, despite what she
considered the revealing nature of the dress. It was an expensive
dress, and it fit so well! She wondered how they’d gotten the
measurements down so well.

She reached the grand staircase, and put a
gloved hand on the rail. The white lace gloves went almost to her
shoulders! But they went very well with the green dress, and she
walked slowly - and carefully - down the grand staircase to the
main lobby, a little nervous now in the more ‘public’ part of the
manor. She turned and headed for the dining room, and almost ran
into Jason.

She blushed as he caught her arms to keep her
from stumbling off balance, and she saw his eyes caught immediately
by her cleavage before he pulled them free.

“S-Sorry,” she gulped.

“Uh huh,” he said, eyes moving down to her
bare hip as she eased back and around him.

She felt his eyes on her as she walked
carefully up the hall, and her blush deepened, her stomach
squirming at what he must think - or what he might be thinking!

She found the small dining room, with its
elegant chandelier. The table had been set for two, but she wasn’t
certain which place she ought to take. Did it matter? Then Patrick
entered from an opposite door and smiled genially. “Miss Quinn,” he
said. “You’re looking lovely this evening.”

“Uhm, thank you,” she said, blushing
anew.

She drew her right leg in to narrow the
slit.

“If you would sit just here,” he said,
pulling out a chair.

She took her place, squirming again as she
sat and the slit in the skirt showed. He didn’t seem to notice, as
he pushed in her chair, then stood over her.

“Would you like an aperitif?” he asked.

“A sherry would be lovely,” she said,
embarrassed again at the sudden thought of what a view he had from
up there, straight down into her cleavage.

“Certainly.”

She was grateful when he left, finally able
to inhale fully. Doing so, of course, squeezed the tight dress even
harder around her breasts, and threatened to pop them out through
the top. No, that was silly, she told herself. She simply had very
little experience wearing dresses or tops which displayed any
cleavage.

Molly came in, carrying the sherry on a tray.
Hannah found it impossible not to see the girl naked, the way she’d
been in the videos. And, in fact, she was dressed in a more
revealing outfit than Hannah was. Her maid’s outfit had an absurdly
short skirt, and a very tight, frilly peasants blouse on top which
showed a lot more cleavage than the one Hannah wore. Hannah found
herself staring at the girl’s breasts, trying to see the outline of
the nipple rings she’d noted in the video.

The girl set the sherry down and frowned
unhappily at her. “Here’s your drink,” she said.

“Uhm, thank you,” Hannah said awkwardly,
thinking of Molly and the other girl bobbing their lips up and down
on Carling‘s cock and balls.

The girl snorted and tossed her head, turning
and marching out.

Was she jealous, Hannah wondered? From what
Carling had suggested he considered her little more than a boy toy,
a sort of servant with privileges, as it were, not unlike a friend
with privileges. Surely the girl couldn’t imagine that their
relationship could be anything more, given the difference between
their ages and levels of education, culture and sophistication?
Hannah didn’t think of her own relationship with Carling as any
more than a dalliance, if an incredibly hot, and wickedly exciting
one. She certainly had no illusions about becoming “Mrs.
Carling”.

Not that she hadn’t thought about it, of
course. Imagine living in this big house, having all that money,
servants, a limousine… And while Carling was handsome, he was also
horrifically arrogant. Of course, he had a lot to be arrogant
about. But could she cope with that arrogance out of the context of
an employer employee relationship? Or the odd sexual game and role
playing the two of them were now involved in?

Maybe he was softer with someone he cared
about. Or maybe he would change once he got to know her as more
than a sex object.

Not bloody likely, a part of her thought
derisively.

Carling showed up then, clad in an
exquisitely tailored dark grey suit. “Miss Quinn,” he said, nodding
his head.

“Lord Carling,” she replied in kind.

Patrick materialized as if from nowhere, and
held out Carling’s chair for him, and Molly showed up with a glass
of wine, fawning over him outrageously. She was so obsequious
Hannah was embarrassed for her, and more than a little
contemptuous. Patrick had to practically pull her out of the room,
and Hannah snorted disdainfully.

“Here’s to me,” Carling said, holding his
glass aloft.

“Here’s to you and your magnificent ego,” she
replied dryly, lifting her glass.

“It is a magnificent ego, I admit,” he said.
“Everything about me is magnificent, after all.”

She rolled her eyes and he pointed a finger
at her. “Careful, Quinn, wouldn’t want to be seen as disrespectful
of your lord.”

She snorted. “If you expect me to fawn over
you like that maid of yours you’re mistaken.”

“Ah yes, the delightful young Molly,” he said
with a smile. “A sweet and biddable girl.”

“With rings through her nipples,” she said
tartly. “Surprised I can’t see them in that tiny maid’s outfit. Did
you have the top specially reinforced?”

He grinned. “Maybe you should get your
nipples pierced, too. I understand it heightens sensations.”

“No, thank you,” she said.

“And I can already see your nipples,” he
added with a smirk.

She frowned and folded her arms over her
chest. “This gown is made of extremely thin silk,” she complained
with a frown.

“It’s a lovely gown and suits you well.”

Patrick returned, along with Molly, bringing
food and setting it down. Molly flirted outrageously with Carling
again, bending far over to show off her cleavage, and smiling up at
him so much Hannah suspected she was expecting a pat on the
head.

“I think she would have blown you right here
at the table if you’d asked,” she sniffed after the two servants
had left.

“Not asked, Miss Quinn, but instructed,
required, demanded. A man of my means and stature has no need of
asking.”

“Ah, of course, you are like a God,” she said
mockingly.

“To the lower, lesser mortals about me, yes,
I might as well be. This is why I deserve such adulation as Molly
accords me, Quinn. You could learn a lot from her.”

“Like how to wear a skirt so short it shows
my bottom when I bend over?”

“Like discipline. Perhaps a few more sharp
spankings or strappings will teach you some.”

She blushed and felt a thrumming in her lower
belly but merely snorted, a part of her feeling a sense of
breathless exhilaration at the thought of goading him to doing that
very thing. But she felt a wariness, too, an anxiety. She wasn’t at
all afraid of him, but was afraid of what he might make her do, of
how he might cause her to humiliate herself.

“Not all of us are completely captive to our
genitals, Lord Carling,” she said primly, blushing.

“No, certainly not,” he said. “Men are, but
women are more a prisoner of their imaginations, their fantasies,
their dreams and desires - and especially where those are tied in
to their genitals.”

“You are generalizing foolishly,” she
said.

“Perhaps, but I don’t think the present
company is excluded from that generalization.”

She gave him a cool look. “I can certainly
resist the call of lust,” she said.

He snorted in amusement, and she blushed. “I
can!”

“Come here,” he said.

“What? Why?” Hannah demanded with a sudden
sense of alarm.

“Because I have asked it, and it is a not
unreasonable request from your host and employer, not to mention
your Lord.”

“You’re not my lord,” she said almost
automatically.

“Come around to this side of the table for a
moment.”

“What do you plan on doing?” she asked
warily.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Of course not!”

“Afraid of yourself?”

“I’m afraid of you doing something in a
public place that the servants might see.”

“They won’t return until I ring the bell. Now
come around here.”

His voice was insistent, and she tsked in
irritation and anxiety, put down her napkin, stood up, and walked
slowly around the table to his side, eying him suspiciously.

“And what is it you intend doing?”

“Testing your strength.”

“I don’t -- .”

“Quiet, commoner.”

He slid his hand in through the open slit of
her dress, and grabbed her wrist with his other hand when she
gasped and started to jerk back.

“Carling!”

His hand was already inside her dress, his
fingers caressing her mons through her thin black thong, and while
she grasped his forearm with her other hand she couldn’t do much
against his strength.

“Now you’re not really the prisoner of your
genitals, correct?”

“N-No!” she gasped, as she felt his fingers
caressing the suddenly swollen bump of her clit through the thin
crotch of her thong.

He grasped the waistband and jerked the thong
down to bare her sex, and she spun her head anxiously staring at
the doorway as his fingers stroked directly across her clit.

Hannah began to realize that she had been
experiencing a low, simmering sense of arousal ever since coming to
the dining room, for as his fingers traced the line of her sex,
then slipped between her pussy lips, she was already quite warm and
moist, and she resisted his finger hardly at all as it penetrated
her and slipped up inside.

She squirmed again, trying to draw her legs
together, but his hand was between them, and all she succeeded in
doing was causing her thong to slide further down her legs and drop
around her ankles..

“Carling!” she hissed, hearing noises beyond
the doorway.

“Silence, wench,” he said. “Your lord has his
privileges.”

His finger slid deeper as his thumb began to
stroke more rapidly against her clit, and while the sensations he
was rousing were growing in intensity, it was the shocking
wickedness of what was happening which was raising the hairs along
the back of her neck and making her chest tight, her belly churn.
It was so outrageous! It was practically in public!! And what right
had he anyway, to touch her like this!?!

And yet that touch, that tactile sensation of
his fingers against her, inside her, were quite simply delicious.
She felt like a cat who should be purring and rubbing herself
against him. It was all she could do to keep from thrusting her
hips forward and grinding her pussy onto his fingers!

He jerked her back and she stumbled, then
fell, sitting across his lap, gasping breathlessly as he gripped
her hair and jerked her head up and back. His other hand was still
between her thighs, his fingers stroking and thrusting into her as
she squirmed and moaned helplessly, a kind of sexual electricity
now crackling through her nervous system.

“You're in desperate need of discipline,
Quinn,” he said, “And continue to mock your lord's excellent
wisdom.”

She groaned as his lips traced a lone along
her arched neck, as his fingers pumped slowly in and out of her now
horribly wet sex.

“I don't see that strength you were talking
about. I see a filthy little slut who needs a cock inside her.
Shall I summon Patrick back and have him bend you over the table?
Would you like him to do you right here and now?”

Hannah shuddered breathlessly, overwhelmed by
the wall of sensation his hands were raising within her body. His
obnoxious arrogance, his rudeness, his outrageous behaviour were
all oil on the fire of heat within her as he manhandled her so
easily, so confidently, so skillfully.

Then he abruptly pulled his hands back and
pushed her off him.