Forbidden Reading (21 page)

‘I’ll play the role of the vindictive tormentor,’ Mrs Weiss explained. She kept her voice to a hiss and spoke with a quick urgency as the approaching footsteps drew nearer. ‘When the torment gets too much for you,
you must ask me to hurt you more
. I’ll refuse to give you what you’re asking for. That way you won’t have to endure any further pain; my assistant will believe you’ve been left frustrated; but he’ll still think you have an appetite for suffering. Does that make sense?’

Still smarting from the blow, but aware the footsteps were almost at the bottom of the donjon stairs, Justine nodded gruff acceptance. She wanted to ask why the assistant’s opinion mattered so much but she sensed the answer would involve an elaborate explanation about Mrs Weiss’s place within
The Society
. Certain there was no time for such an exchange, and not sure she wanted the details, Justine said, ‘I guess it makes sense. But you didn’t have to hit me so hard.’

‘Don’t be so fucking wet,’ Mrs Weiss spat. Her lips remained close to Justine’s ear. The speed of her words blurred them together. ‘Hold out for as long as possible before asking for more. Make it look convincing.’

‘I can do that,’ Justine admitted.

The flail snapped against her backside. A sharp tang of pain pierced her buttock and rippled through her body. ‘Damned right you can do that,’ Mrs Weiss agreed loudly.

The tone of her voice, and the way she pulled herself away, made Justine realise that the assistant was now with them. Holding back a squeal of protest she resisted the urge to clutch her punished buttock.

‘My assistant’s here now,’ Mrs Weiss announced. ‘Assume the position so he can make use of you before we continue.’

Justine opened her eyes wide: shocked and glaring at Mrs Weiss. The words of protest died on her lips and she realised this was merely another bridge to cross in her journey toward acquiring
La Coste
. And, while the idea of being used so brusquely made her cringe at first, she had to admit that her body craved some satisfaction. Mrs Weiss’s brutal torment had left her feeling unfulfilled and the prospect of sating her arousal was an opportunity she didn’t want to refuse. But, turning her head warily and assessing the huge figure within the hooded robe, Justine wondered if it was wise to submit to an abusive stranger she hadn’t properly seen.

‘Hurry it up,’ Mrs Weiss demanded. ‘We haven’t got all fucking day.’ As she spoke the flail slashed sharply against Justine’s rear.

Another blister of pain skewered her backside. Gasping with surprise, Justine took three deep breaths before trusting her voice to come out without too much anger colouring the tone. ‘Which position do you want me to assume?’

Mrs Weiss pointed with the flail and rolled her eyes as though Justine was stupid for not knowing. ‘Bend over that stone seat. And do it quickly. You’re beginning to piss me off.’

Obedient, not daring to do anything that might incur another display of the woman’s wrath, Justine did as she was told. She could see the assistant leering at her from within the shadows of his cowl but wouldn’t let herself dwell on what she knew would come next. Moving swiftly, bending over the stone seat and lifting her buttocks high, she tried to empty her mind of all thoughts and fears as she prepared herself for whatever the pair were planning. Her mouth was dry and her heart lurched loudly with every beat.

‘Do what you will with her,’ Mrs Weiss said sternly. The anger in her voice had mellowed to disinterest and Justine guessed the woman was addressing the assistant. ‘The bitch needs to learn her place,’ Mrs Weiss continued. ‘And I want to have the cigarette she interrupted earlier.’

‘She’s mine?’ the assistant marvelled.

Justine strained to hear an answer from behind her but there was only the crackle of Mrs Weiss sparking her lighter. When she caught the sound of the assistant’s malevolent chuckle, Justine guessed the woman must have nodded her consent. Her stomach folded with dreadful anticipation.

Rough, masculine hands clutched her buttocks. The coarse weave of the assistant’s robe brushed her rear as he rubbed himself against her. The temptation to scream for him to stop was irresistible but she continued to bite her tongue and willed time to move quickly so the experience would soon be ended and behind her. Unable to control the reflexive response, she stiffened and clenched the muscles of her backside closed.

‘Don’t start getting all virtuous,’ Mrs Weiss growled. Her voice was cloudy with cigarette smoke. Justine could detect the acrid stench of tobacco over the scent of her own arousal. ‘I know that you fucked Sartine’s entire party last night. You won’t shy away from one more cock, will you?’

Justine’s cheek flushed crimson. She quietly conceded it was true that she had taken more lovers than she could remember at Sartine’s party. But on that occasion there had been the giddy fun of dancing and music as well as champagne and glamour. The crowd had been composed of beautiful bodies and the spirit of the evening had been charged with hedonism, decadence and experimentation. Here there was only the gloom of the donjon, the stench of Mrs Weiss’s cigarettes and the lingering pain that had been wrought against her backside. The inept groping of the woman’s sinister assistant was like the antithesis of every pleasure she had enjoyed at Sartine’s.

She heard the rustling of coarse fabric. Instinct told her the assistant was unleashing his erection and she bit back a moan of apprehension. His fingers had moved from her punished cheeks but, when they returned, she was unnerved to notice he was only holding her with one hand. Swallowing down the lump of unease that filled her throat, Justine steeled herself in anticipation.

The fat dome of his shaft’s end brushed against her labia.

She hadn’t thought her body would be so responsive but, as soon as he touched himself against her, a shiver of raw need bristled from her sex. She didn’t want to acknowledge the heat or the wetness but she knew her inner muscles craved him. Trying not to show her desperation, and still unsure about what else would happen to her while she was under Mrs Weiss’s authority, Justine readied herself for the penetration.

The assistant placed the end of his length just inside her sex. He slapped both hands against her hips as he secured his grip and then pushed forcefully inside. His erection was thick, the length seemed to go on forever, and she moaned with a combination of disgust and delight. As he continued to plough into her, his thickness easily spreading her inner muscles, she was tortured by the thrill of being properly used. Since arriving at Vincennes Castle Justine had found herself squirming with frustration. Now that Mrs Weiss’s assistant was sliding his meaty erection into her pussy, she didn’t think it would take long before her body was allowed the release she needed. Her breath deepened to a laboured pant. She gritted her teeth together, trying to distance herself from every sensation and their twisted black pleasures.

‘How does she feel?’ Mrs Weiss asked.

‘She’s more than ready for it.’

The assistant’s words shivered through his body and trembled along the shaft he had buried inside Justine. His erection was long enough to bruise the neck of her womb and, because she still couldn’t feel his loins brushing against her backside, she suspected there was more of the abominable length to come. The realisation that she was impaled on such a huge erection inspired sensations of joy and horror.

‘Don’t treat her gently,’ Mrs Weiss warned. ‘She had enough of that yesterday. Make sure she knows what she’s getting into.’

Justine pressed her lips tight together for fear of voicing an objection. The air was pushed out of her when the assistant renewed his grip on her hips and banged the remaining inches of his length into her sex. As though he was little more than Mrs Weiss’s puppet he thrust deep on her command and turned the penetration from a fantastic revelation to a punishing encounter. His hold on her hips was vicious and unrelenting. As he began to slide back and forth she realised he was riding her with a brutal vigour. The inner muscles of her sex responded to him with a hunger she hadn’t anticipated and Justine knew he would easily force a climax from her sopping hole.

‘Make her squeal,’ Mrs Weiss laughed. ‘I want to hear the bitch scream.’

Her voice was closer and Justine guessed the woman was coming over to get a better view. The idea of someone enjoying her suffering was twisted but she couldn’t deny it also sparked another rush of excitement. From the corner of her eye she saw Mrs Weiss’s robed figure step into view and she cringed with a blend of shame and exhilaration.

The assistant rode her freely. The force of each penetration pushed hard into her pussy and sent a shiver through her entire body. With her forearms pressed against the stone seat, and her backside raised high in the air, Justine’s breasts swayed in rhythm with his thumping tempo. She knew her body was inching closer to orgasm but she balked at the idea of enjoying the release. It was a rigorous exercise in punishing sex and she wondered if it was too early to follow Mrs Weiss’s suggestion of how she could end the whole torturous episode.

A hand fell to her hair.

She instantly recognised Mrs Weiss’s uncompromising grip and knew what was coming next. It came as no surprise when her head was lifted. Every follicle on her scalp screamed in protest. And then her face was tugged toward the wetness of the woman’s sex. Acting on the unspoken instruction, lapping greedily against the offered pussy lips as the assistant continued to bang into her from behind, Justine felt the first tremor of orgasm shudder through her frame.

The explosion happened without pleasure. The satisfying roar that came from her loins was brisk but joyless. Even though she wanted to relish its delight, a part of Justine’s mind wouldn’t let her bask in the fulfilment that came from such callous treatment. A cloudy haze blurred her vision, and her nerve-endings tingled. But, as she regained her breath and returned her mouth to Mrs Weiss’s sex, Justine knew she couldn’t properly call the climax satisfying.

‘Make me come, bitch,’ Mrs Weiss growled.

She tugged hard on Justine’s hair. The assistant tightened his hold on her hips and pushed forward with greater force than before. Another surge of responses was driven through her hole. She began to devour Mrs Weiss’s sex as eddies of despicable delight trembled along her sex.

‘Make me come properly this time,’ Mrs Weiss grunted.

Anxious to obey every instruction, Justine threw herself into the task of trying to coax another eruption from the woman’s hole. It was difficult to concentrate on the task as the assistant continued banging into her sex, but she was desperate to do anything rather than suffer the woman’s displeasure again. Lapping greedily at the dewy sex lips, hungrily teasing the bud of her clitoris, Justine struggled to make the woman come.

‘Don’t try and tease me,’ Mr Weiss warned. ‘I want a proper tonguing.’

Even when she felt the assistant buck hard against her, Justine was still fixing her efforts on trying to urge her employer’s climax. His shaft pulsed inside her; the inner muscles of her sex quivered around him; and then her sex was dripping from the douche of his sticky eruption. But, all the time, she was concentrating on what Mrs Weiss wanted and how best to please her.

The assistant snatched his spent length from her hole, leaving her to feel hollow and empty. Justine barely noticed as she squirmed her lips and tongue awkwardly against Mrs Weiss’s sex. He slapped a hefty hand across her rear and mumbled, ‘Good pussy. I’ll enjoy that again before the day’s over.’

Still working hard on tonguing a response from Mrs Weiss, Justine didn’t hear the praise. She continued to lap and tease, wishing she could look up at the woman and judge whether or not she was performing the chore properly. Her lips and mouth were lathered with a meld of her own spittle and Mrs Weiss’s juices. The flavour of the woman’s sex was rich each time she swallowed. The scent of musk filled her nostrils and perfumed every breath. Sure she was close to making the woman’s sex burst with pleasure, suddenly desperate to make her groan with delight, Justine threw an extra effort into lapping at the dewy folds of flesh.

Mrs Weiss pulled her head back sharply.

Justine almost screamed with frustration and pain. She was dragged from the stone seat and pushed unceremoniously away.

Ignoring her, calmly studying her assistant, Mrs Weiss said, ‘Bind her hands and hang her in the corner. She’s more fun when she’s suffering.’

Biting back the shocked exclamation she wanted to make, Justine made no move to stop the assistant as he wrapped cord around her wrists in a loose figure eight. She thought of telling him that the bondage was nowhere near tight enough to hold her properly, then realised neither he nor Mrs Weiss wanted to hear her opinions. Tugging her as though she was merely a piece of meat, the assistant led Justine to a corner of the donjon beneath a low hanging hook. He slipped her bound wrists over the aged metal and then turned to Mrs Weiss as though waiting for her approval.

Justine found she had to stand on tiptoe to stop the torment from being a suspended bondage. It was difficult to forget her vulnerability and she despised the realisation that apprehension was adding to her arousal. Having her arms above her head made her feel exposed. The assistant stood in front of her but, with Mrs Weiss lingering behind, Justine didn’t know what to expect. A finger of unease tickled down her spine and heightened her sensitivity. She quietly dreaded the woman’s reason for having her suspended from the donjon’s hook and she wouldn’t let her mind speculate about what was going to happen next.

The sting of the flail across her back gave Justine an idea of what the woman was planning. When it was followed by three more lashes – each more punishing than its predecessor – she understood she was going to be thoroughly whipped. The prospect of being flogged was a double-edged barb: one side making her stomach churn with despair, the other heightening her arousal.

‘Are you going to help me with this?’ Mrs Weiss asked her assistant.