A PINCH OF

SPICE
An erotic novella
Alcamia Payne
Published by Xcite Books Ltd
2013
ISBN 9781909624511
Copyright Alcamia Payne 2013
The right of Alcamia Payne to be
identified as the author of this
work has been asserted by her in
accordance with the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this
book is a work of fiction. Names
and characters are the product of
the authors imagination and any
resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this
book may be copied, or
transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic, electrostatic,
magnetic tape, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or
otherwise, without the written
permission of the publishers:
Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd
Floor, 145-157 St John Street,
London EC1V 4PY
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter One
Martha stood in the hallway trying
to make sense of Elizas
unorthodox furnishing of the
house. It was a sensual feast, with
its sumptuous lace covers and
billowing chiffon, and had none
of the muted Victorian colours she
was used to. Oh, its so pretty and
you furnished it all yourself. How
amazing!
Unpinning her hat, Eliza coaxed
her thick, dark hair in place. Her
riotous mass of curls had due to
the dampness clustered
attractively around her brow.
Thank you, Martha. I knew youd
adore it, but youd better explain
yourself before you explode.
Eliza was no fool. Martha always
visited for a reason and She
suppressed a smile, here it came.
Her friend was gearing up for the
revelation and her cheeks had
become flushed, as was her wont
before the sharing of some
delectable gem of information.
You and I get along so
dreadfully well because we swim
in a different pool to the rest of
womankind, dont we?
Eliza nodded. This much was
true, for Eliza and Martha
considered themselves Victorian
rebels and both refused to be
restrained by the barricades of a
society they believed limited in the
extreme. Martha lived on the other
side of the city and fought her
own battles on her own terms,
principally through diffusing
clandestine and interesting
information to her limited coterie
of female friends those
swimming in the highest echelons
of society and who wielded what
Eliza termed intimate power.
Martha made no secret of the fact
she esteemed Eliza Pinch, since
Eliza had been brave enough to
walk where no woman had
walked before. Even now she was
staring at her, while Eliza basked
in the admiration.
On the surface Eliza was a
fashionable style icon, a rich
heiress and tasteful woman of
means. Scratch that surface,
though, and beneath she was a
scandal, a woman with more than
a pinch of spice and who ran a
secretive service which she called
The Assistance. Yes, Eliza Pinch
was a sexually liberated young
lady, self-instructed in all manner
of delights of the flesh, and who
believed in the freedom of a
woman to express herself in
whatever way necessary to
procure pleasure. To that end, she
indulged her sensitivities and
fetishes and they were many. In
particular, Eliza derived orgasmic
relish from parading the secrets
beneath her clothes. Today she
was wearing a tightly fitting scarlet
silk bodice composed of a
plunging neckline which flowed
out into a skirt of copious layers,
fashionably pinned in pretty
rosettes to lift the skirt away from
her legs. It was a daring design
because it showed more leg than it
ought to. Eliza wriggled her
buttocks as she enjoyed the cut of
her new combinations. The stiff
lace was rubbing her tender skin
and tickling her clit as fiercely as a
lovers rough hand.
Martha leant forward eagerly.
You know how the women of
our circle consider you the
veritable font of womanly advice
as regards matters of a delicate
nature? Over the last few years
youve become our rock and
sounding post in specialised
matters. Indeed, for questions of a
feminine nature wed come to no
one else. She made sure to
emphasise the word circle as if it
was some kind of secret coven,
which, in a way, The Assistance
was.
Eliza felt such a satisfying pulse
between her legs she had to clench
them together. Ah, The
Assistance. Running a secret
service covertly while continuing
to be a pillar of society and
mingling with personages like
Lady Smithers and Nancy
Wilding and being party to their
most secret wishes and desires
was a most definite thrill. There
was nothing she liked better, in a
day and age when little in the way
of exciting employment for a
wealthy young heiress was
available, than unravelling
womens complex personal
conundrums and inhabiting a lofty
pinnacle as sexual oracle. Her little
enterprise was a much more
stimulating prospect than mere
charitable works and an ideal way
in which to employ her specific
talents.
Eliza wasnt absolutely certain
how shed risen to such
stratospheric heights, though it
had probably started with a few
well-placed snippets of
salaciousness, dispensed from her
erotic font. There was no doubt
she had a knack, and no wonder,
because the subject of sex
occupied her perpetually. It had
been a small step from there to
advising unfulfilled women who
dared not touch or allow
themselves to indulge even the
slightest frisson of liberated
rapture, let alone orgasm. Entry
into the homes of the socially
distinguished had rapidly
followed, and led to her being a
close confidante of female
whimsies.
Heres my daring request,
Martha continued. I have a friend
who desperately needs your help.
Her name is Katia, a Russian
countess who has inherited her
nephew, a striking and mysterious
young man who shes brought
with her from overseas. This
nephews by all accounts a
troubled boy, who requires she
paused assistance. Delving in
her purse, she handed Eliza a
splendid embossed card on which
was printed the name Katia
Tsarev. On inspecting it, Eliza
saw a note had been written on the
back.
Dear Miss Pinch. I need your
advice on a matter of the utmost
delicacy. Please may I call on you
at 11 a.m. tomorrow?
I was positive that although the
subject in question is a man, youd
be certain to help. You are, after
all, a genius.
Martha, how could you? Eliza
quavered. You understand I
never deal in problems of a male
nature. I may be emancipated and
free thinking, but Im definitely
not an instructress in carnal
pleasures.
No, I know, my dear, but
theres always room for expansion
in a business such as yours, isnt
there? The least you can do is talk
to Katia.
Chapter Two
Of course, Eliza never said no, she
was too curious for that. The next
morning she dressed in a reserved
brown taffeta gown and arranged
her hair carefully yet simply. It
wouldnt do to look too forward
in front of Madam Tsarev, and she
knew on occasion she intimidated
women with her flamboyancy.
They were continually snatching
jealous glances at her, while men
experienced a strange intoxication
over Eliza, composed of a mixture
of both admiration and lecherous
intent. She smiled to herself. Yes,
and they secretively fondled their
cocks every time she walked by.
Eliza stroked her well rounded
hips. She knew she was
exceedingly pretty. However, her
weakness her appetite for lemon
cream fancies which she had
delivered from a French ptisserie
to her stylish Bloomsbury house
meant her curves had become a
little more pronounced lately.
Eliza strolled through the house,
making last-minute adjustments
here and there. She felt a sense of
pride over how beautiful her
home looked and how her
independent stamp and outrageous
dcor had embellished the unique
style bequeathed to her by her
grandmother, who had brought
her up when her mother had died
in childbirth. She had never
known her father. Her mother, a
bohemian, had supposedly met
him on a trip to Italy and a brief,
carnal affair had resulted in Eliza.
Shed had a fabulous upbringing
in an uncensored household, her
outrageously amusing and sex-
fuelled grandmother being much
fought over for dinner invitations.
Eliza had benefited from notable
extravagances: a wonderful
governess whod thoroughly
educated her, and, later on, a
finishing school in Switzerland. At
21 her grandmother being then
deceased shed inherited the
family fortune and the house,
together with its copious library of
erotic texts.
It seemed Eliza was a chip off
the old block. Sex added a spicy
zest to her life, and there was
nothing she liked more than
dispensing her advice with
considerable aplomb. She could
have easily married but for one
serious impediment, her dominant
personality. Now, if a man could
be seen to allow her her liberty,
marriage could work very well.
But, in Elizas view, marriage and
liberty made sorry partners. As
soon as a man caught you, you
were harnessed and she
repressed a smile shed much
rather be harnessing him. Besides,
what man would understand her
attitude to sex, which she saw as a
mode of free expression and a
cure for all things? Yes, she was
sure it was a cure, because she
suffered few of the problems
which assailed her peers. She was
agile and content in body and
spirit and rarely visited a doctor.
Having overcome the numerous
taboos of the society she lived in,
she enjoyed admiring her naked
body and attentively caring for it
in truly scandalous ways by
shaving away every loose hair,
keeping it alabaster white and
smooth and fragranced with exotic
and daring scents. Not forgetting
enjoyment, a daily occurrence as
necessary as a pot of tea. Eliza had
taught herself every trick in the
book as regards self-pleasure;
using her fingers and thumbs,
scarves and ropes, to excite
herself.
Eliza was unprepared for Katia,
who drew up at the house in a
luxurious carriage drawn by two
splendid horses. You could
instantly tell she was a woman of
substance. Her black gown was
chic and exquisitely styled and she
wore a splendid plumed hat and
fabulous Russian enamelled
jewellery. She was astounding,
too, with her creamy white
complexion and luscious dark
eyes. Eliza liked her immediately.
Its so kind of you to see me. It
was a godsend when Martha
mentioned your considerable gifts.
She told me you were unique and
there wasnt another woman in
London able to offer such expert
advice. Ill get straight to the
point. Katia sat down, fluffing
out her skirts. My nephew Emile
requires your help.
At this instant Alice, Elizas
maid came in with a pot of tea and
it took a moment or two for Katia
to compose herself.
Emile has how can I describe
them? delicate problems as
regards women. I cannot for the
life of me make sense of them,
except to say hes a troubled
young man who, at his age,
should be more than au fait with
the fair sex.
How old is your nephew?
Eliza queried, expecting the boy in
question to be very young.
Therein lies the problem. Hes
far from a boy. Actually, hes 24.
Most certainly not a boy, Eliza
breathed in surprise, putting her
cup down with a rattle.
Emile needs to be out in society
and he needs to procure a wife,
but how can he? My plan is this.
Ill send him to you under the
guise of tutoring in etiquette. Once
under your thumb you might then
be able to get to the crux of his
problems and, with your skills,
solve them.
Madam Tsarev. Eliza laughed.
I dont wish to disappoint you,
but Ive never instructed a man.
Of that Im aware. Katia
wagged her finger. You instruct
women and educate them in
delicate matters, ironing out their
foibles regarding subjects of a
carnal nature and instructing them
in correct and pleasurable sex. But
why not a man, since its said you
have the utmost affinity with the
male sex? Gentlemen adore you
and find you amenable company.
Emile would adore you too and in
so doing hed open up and discuss
with you his odd whimsies.
I wouldnt know where to
start, and then Id have to have a
chaperone. Im a single woman
and it would be unseemly for me
to entertain a young man alone in
my home. I simply cannot afford
the scandal, Eliza insisted
vehemently.
Oh my darling! Katia burst out
laughing. Is that all? Whats
seemly doesnt come into it. You
have the highest regard of all
around you, and naturally Id
spread the word that you were
tutoring Emile. Her voice
dropped to a whisper. My minds
made up. Im exceedingly choosy
whose care I put him in and my
hearts set on you. Youre perfect
for the job of bringing Emile out
and moulding him for society. Be
his saviour, Eliza, and Ill be
eternally grateful to you.
Chapter Three
Id drawn a picture in my head of
an old crone, so please excuse me
for staring, he said. I really
didnt expect a beautiful woman
who wouldnt be out of place
gracing a tsars table. Emile stood
in the hallway, treating Eliza to a
quirky grin as he shook back his
thick, black, wavy hair.
Eliza peered at him
appreciatively, taking in his
fashionable heavy lace shirt and
embroidered jacket. The young
man was striking and his
mahogany brown eyes glittered
with a devilish sense of fun.
A tsars table, I wouldnt go
that far. She led him through into
the separate parlour she kept
expressly for her own enjoyment
and which was seductive and
appealing. She was certainly not a
whore, but Eliza had some of the
inherent traits of a fashionable
courtesan and as such it was
seemly to have a room decked out
for her fantasies. Amongst her
many thirsts Eliza enjoyed the
attentions of flirtatious beaus, and
numerous eligible men called on
her; on the one hand to see for
themselves how pretty she was,
and on the other to actually try
and court her. Eliza rarely
indulged herself fully, and then
only when the urge for affection
chased her into a corner. If she
yielded, she took every sensible
precaution necessary in an age
when syphilis was rampant.
Besides which she always
researched a beaus credentials.
However, her relationships never
lasted long. No man could
possibly live up to her
expectations so, while she liked to
titillate her palate, she kept her
appetites well under control.
May I call you Eliza? Stepping
forward, he grabbed her hand
and, without further ado, pressed
it to his lips. So, this was the way
of a shy boy, was it? Emile was
definitely not the gauche innocent
shed expected.
Yes, you may call me Eliza and
Ill call you Emile.
Emile settled in a chair by the
window, the sunlight profiling his
high cheekbones and fine lips.
Eliza felt an uncomfortable
churning in her belly. She was
observant and, as she scrutinised
him, waiting for Alice to bring in
the tea, she noticed Emile had an
impressive erection which he must
have been aware of, but made no
attempt to conceal. Stirred almost
to the point of orgasm, she sat as
still as a statue, clenching her thigh
muscles as she endured a familiar
frisson.
Shed once had a Russian lover
whod been extremely kinky and
she wondered if Emile could
possibly acquire the same
tendencies and vices. The Russian
had had similar tendencies to her
own, notably an addiction to rope
which was nearly as strong as the
opium pipe or alcohol. In her
experience, it only took a small
titbit of bait to make a man bite.
She suppressed a smile. She
hadnt had such a daring thought
in ages. Eliza shivered and her
skin prickled all over.
Aunt Katia can be so dreadfully
persuasive, Emile mumbled,
crossing his lean legs. One must
obey her.
A tight knot loosened within
her. He was affecting her in the
way no man had for ages and she
didnt know why. Maybe it was
the apparent contradiction in
terms; his evident naivety and
innocence, which seemed at war
with his masculinity, and an
untamed and lustful wildness not
yet tempered and formed by
woman. For just an instant, Elizas
strong mental distaste of
emotional involvement, which she
guarded herself against
tenaciously, wavered, and her
mind strayed to that most elusive
of things, love and its
appeasement. She didnt rate love
that highly and if she decided to
indulge she nibbled at the fringes
and would never allow herself to
sink deeper than a weak
attachment. The platter of love
was a complex dining experience
of many courses, drawing you
deeper and deeper into delicious
flavours and sensual textures
which, when gobbled down,
inevitably reached satiation point.
No, it was much better to titillate
the palate and discard.
Shed witnessed loves tragic
spell at first hand with her distant
cousin Cordelia; seen the way it
vanquished the spirit, leaving her
hopelessly besotted and the life
sucked from her. Poor Cordelia,
so fragile and now a pale
reflection. A jaundiced, bitter
woman who was poisoned against
sex. No, to preserve her sanity a
woman must have fulfilment on
her own terms and have her hands
firmly on the reins at all times.
Love, if savoured, must be
imprisoned in a safe compartment
where it could be contained and
controlled in safety. As she stared
at Emile, though, something odd
and a little bit frightening began to
happen to Eliza and she became
consumed by an uncontrollable
and rather wonderful sensation.
Youre an enigma, Eliza. It
seems youre a useful and potent
medicine, a sexual philanthropist.
And why not? What could be
more worthwhile than saving
poor, sexually uneducated
women and now a nave boy
from making utter fools of
themselves? His voice was husky
and melodious, his glance holding
more knowledge than Emile
readily gave away. One day,
when the ladies were enjoying tea
I crept up on them. Mrs Douglas
was talking to Aunt Katia and
couldnt sing your praises highly
enough. She said you were of a
new breed; an emancipated
woman but not of the harsh
variety. Her very words were
Elizas intelligent and sensible
and she brings women out. She
has a way of strengthening about
her and doubtless she can do the
same for a young man.
He impaled her with his gaze.
You know the real reason why
my aunt sent me here, dont you,
Eliza? Its for lessons in love.
Please may we progress, and
rapidly, for I have a clear view of
what I want to achieve with your
tutoring.
Eliza opened her mouth and
then closed it again as, fighting for
composure, she clutched the arms
of her chair. To say she was
shocked by Emiles forthright
words were an understatement. He
was so disarmingly direct. Do
you indeed?
Yes. Youll cure my problem.
And what if I simply inflame it
and replace it with something
worse?
I dont think thatll happen. He
winked at her. Now, dont lets
how do they say? beat about the
bush. What did Katia say about
me? Did she tell you Im the
familys dirty secret, the by-blow
of a gypsy king whose charms, I
am told, were so enchanting my
mother couldnt resist him?
Baffled, Eliza felt another stab
of excitement. No, she said very
little.
Well, its true. I was born in a
barn, shunned and brought up by
the housemaid. Katia would visit
me, though, and, in time, when
my mother eventually died and my
father married again, she rescued
me and brought me over to her
house in England, hoping Id
make a good marriage.
At that moment Alice came in
with the tea things. She almost
dropped them when she saw
Emile, and her eyes became as
round as saucers. Sorry, miss.
Its all right. Meet our guest,
since youll soon be seeing a lot
more of him.
Alices cheeks turned flaming
red. As soon as the door closed,
Eliza burst into laughter.
You have an astonishing story
and an equally astonishing effect
on women.
She poured the tea, and when
Emile took his tea cup their
fingers inadvertently touched. Fire
sprang to life in Elizas veins
and a not altogether unwelcome
fire at that. She recognised this
sensation, knew she shouldnt
pursue it as it could so easily burn
out of control. But in no way did
she profess to be perfect, and part
of her craved it as any woman
would.
That may be so but He
raised an eyebrow. Theres little
hope for me, Eliza. You see, I
harbour a forbidding secret. My
mother was obsessively religious
and had a loathing of sex. When I
was a boy she caught me touching
myself and told me I was so evil
Id bring the devil to our door.
She forbade me to so much as
look at myself in a mirror, let
alone caress my flesh or tease a
girl. My lusts burning out of
control, I couldnt resist my urges.
Ira the dairymaid was a comely
girl and, after teasing me
constantly and saying how much
she adored me, I gave in and
seduced her. Of course, my
mother caught us. She locked me
in my room and it was then she
commenced beating me with the
strap of a broken bridle. Im
ashamed to say I found the
whipping excited me and the
harder she struck, the larger my
cock grew.
Eliza was incredulous,
clenching her fists so tightly her
knuckles were white. Carry on,
she urged huskily.
In the end, my view of sex
became distorted. I was convinced
I must tame the beast which
betrayed me. However, in the act
of taming it, I imprisoned my
body.
Imprisoned your body. How?
I discovered this ancient book.
It taught men how to harness their
inner sexual strength and control
their cock. He shook his head.
Now youll think me a perverse
individual. In the act of harnessing
this power, I discovered that the
holding back of my seed made me
feel powerful, as if my whole
body was pulsing with primeval
force. I became addicted to it to
such an extent curious things
began to happen to me. As a
result, my cock now remains
stubbornly obdurate and no
amount of coaxing leads to
liberation.
I confess Im at a loss, Eliza
said, clambering to her feet and
wandering to the window. Im
not qualified in these matters. Isnt
there a male physician you could
go to?
Oh Eliza, for goodness sakes,
its you I need. I require the gentle
coaxing and instruction which
only your hand can deliver. There
isnt a woman in England so well
suited to the task. I need to
explore avenues of physical and
mental stimulation which will
allow me to disentangle this
conundrum and help me find the
key which has trapped me. But,
more importantly, I like you and
isnt it essential to like ones
therapist?
A tidal wave of emotion was
washing over Eliza as she peered
out into the garden. She should
turn him away; such things were
beyond her ability. And yet she
didnt want to. Nothing inspired
her more than a challenge. She
was compelled to steer herself into
uncharted waters, coax forth his
inner demon, and perhaps expose
him to her web of obscene
pleasures. One thing I must make
clear. The purpose is for us to
cure you. This will not develop
into an affair.
Emiles face lit up. Well, of
course not. Youre the instructress
and Im the pupil.
Chapter Four
Eliza possessed several grand
wardrobes situated in the guest
rooms, all bulging with clothing;
ball gowns, skirts, and beautifully
embroidered corsets. Extravagant
hats and soft calfskin shoes.
Besides which she had an
enormous locked black lacquered
armoire which stood in the corner
of her boudoir her secret hiding
place for her more daring
creations.
Eliza dressed for her own lusty
satisfaction and had discovered
early on that simply the touch of
lace, the cool drape of satin on her
skin, or the rub of heavy fustian
enlivened and excited her,
tempting her to the most extreme
fantasies. Shed also learnt that a
mans attention was easily assured
by a woman enrobed in fripperies,
and she liked to entice with a
material of choice showing the
promise of the delights underneath
and perhaps a peep of naked skin
here and there. She made no
excuses for her teases and treats.
She liked to dress to the height of
fashion but enjoyed her clothes
having an edge. The application of
clothing in sex fascinated her so
much she was continually
dreaming up new delights to walk
out in and amuse herself with,
delights which would outdo her
flirtatious and arch rivals. A body
skilfully portrayed was
exceedingly seductive and men
were enraptured by the temptation
provoked by Elizas clever
wrapping and naughty little twists
on a theme, which added
piquancy to her covert thrills. To
this end, and with the assistance of
the skilful seamstress, Madame
Vilette, her clothing boasted a bow
here, and a ruche there, to draw
attention to dcolletage and leg,
besides carefully concealed
apertures and filmy windows
designed to frame patches of
flesh. Madame had once worked
at an exclusive couture house in
Paris. Deft with a needle and
thread and able to cut her own
patterns, she was a seamstress way
ahead of her time. She designed
Eliza sumptuous skirts, cleverly
designed to arouse, which sported
hidden slits fashioned to open at
opportune moments and offer a
man a surprise if he were bold
enough to slide his hand inside.
Shed sewn daring ensembles to
be worn in private; corsets for
provocation with mesh inlays to
frame her customers nipples, and
combinations with ruches and
bows which could be tweaked
apart more easily than normal to
reveal expanses of pink flesh.
Provocation . The word made
her smile. It was all part of the
future emancipation of women
who, in the soon to be new
society, would have the courage
to domineer their beaux.
Eliza also didnt conform to the
typical layers of clothing worn by
a Victorian lady. She found the
style for bloomers, corsets and
protectors far too noxious,
wearing nothing beneath all her
embellishments except a simple
petticoat or one of her kinky
contraptions. Shed have to make
sure she kept those secrets hidden
from Emile. Driven by the
cravings of her body, her
haberdashery box was a casket of
delights providing bespoke
trimmings for naughty chastity
belts and restraints the lace or
satin of which abraded her pubes
and added a satisfying pinch to
her day to day activities.
The morning following Emiles
visit, she decided to make another
kinky contraption and, taking out
a length of heavily embroidered
black lace, she fastened a thin belt
of ribbon around her waist. Using
a complicated system of knots she
then fastened the lace around her
groins, before passing one long
piece up between her pouting sex
slit and butt to be fastened on the
belt. On this occasion she jerked
the lace up much tighter than she
normally did, so her sex lips
pouted sexily either side. Eliza
shivered, the shivers turning into
convulsions as she pressed her
hand down against the lace.
Sometimes she liked the slippery
coolness of pure silk or satin;
however, her favourite was the
rough grate of fine starched lace
on her clit. Elizas lips trembled
and her gaze became naughty.
Tingling with the thought of
having her clit tickled while
provoking Emile, she toyed with
the idea of a new harness
composed of a tight, criss-cross
binding of scratchy lace around
her breasts.
Chapter Five
Eliza soon found out Emile was
not half as shy as shed
anticipated. He was lively and
engaging and somewhat
flirtatious, and he evidently found
it hugely amusing the two of them
were playing a role. Eliza already
fantasised about him and her
hunger raged as she began to
contemplate how she might dress
each day to attract him. After all, if
he was to learn the art of
seduction he must understand the
language of titillation, and what
better way was there than through
clothing?
Today, Eliza wore a satin dress
of blue crpe de chine which
clung to her body in all the right
places. Emile had shrugged off his
jacket and was strolling about the
room with his shirt unbuttoned,
his long, flowing hair giving him
the look of a predatory wild man.
Eliza was sure she wasnt
mistaken. His eyes seemed to be
smouldering with carnal
knowledge. She sat down on the
couch, patting the satin, and Emile
sat down beside her. She was
aware of his cologne and animal
scent and her senses quivered.
What do you ultimately hope to
achieve from my tuition, Emile?
He grinned at her. He was
learning so close she could feel his
breath on her cheek. Instruction
in whatever my mistress thinks fit,
dear Eliza.
Katia Tsarev had only that
morning sent her a note of
unstinting praise, and Emiles
comments heaped on top of this
gave Eliza a glow of pleasure.
The note had read: Thank
heaven Emile likes you so well.
He cant stop talking about you.
Im so pleased, since with most
women he retires into an
impervious shell. Do all that is
necessary, my dear. I give you
carte blanche. Youre a woman of
the world and I trust you
implicitly.
Eliza had had a smile on her
lips. Carte blanche was such a
liberating phrase.
Emile, she noticed, was staring
at her legs. The skirt of the dress
was ruched and the ruches neatly
lifted here and there to show
much more leg than would be
considered tasteful in public.
Emile, forgive me for being
blunt. But have you had no
liaisons other than with that girl?
No, Eliza, although women
seem to want to touch me. He
paused. I abhor it for the pain
and frustration it causes me.
Besides that first ghastly
seduction, Ive never once been
properly kissed or had the leisure
of exploring a womans body.
Well, we must put that to
rights. Practice is all it takes. Eliza
took hold of his hand; she enjoyed
the feel of his long, smooth
fingers and the way he shuddered
with excitement. You say you feel
easy in my company? Do you trust
me?
Emile laughed. How could I
not?
Thats good. Eliza felt stirred.
She hardly dared give free
expression to the thoughts shed
been having over the last few days
about Emiles proposed lessons in
love.
Eliza, Im sorry. This is
uncommon for you and so it
should be. Youre an advisor of
women, the queen of advice on
intimate feminine matters, and yet
Im a man and youve never
instructed a man. He was
tantalizingly close, his thigh
brushing her leg. During our
instruction perhaps we should
maintain a detached distance, so
ties of affection should not
interfere. Heaven forbid love
should come into this and I should
make you feel awkward. You
must lead the way, for I dont
know whether to kiss you on the
lips or roll over and behave like a
puppy.
Eliza folded her hands to stop
them shaking. She was fighting to
contain her intense delight at the
prospect of what was in store as
she imagined Emile, docile and
puppy-like, giving in to her
dominant streak. A detached
emotional distance! Yes, I agree
that no depth of affection should
be allowed. It would get in the
way of the tuition. But I do
believe a physical distance would
be unrealistic in the circumstances.
I must instruct you how to
undress and please a woman and
in return we must discover what
pleases you. Even maybe at some
point explore a proper kiss or two,
administered, you understand,
solely for the sake of experiment.
Oh yes, that sounds perfect.
Emile stared at her teasingly from
beneath his black brows. When
will we begin, and how? You see
the magic youve worked on me.
Books and pictures are one thing,
practice another. You must
prepare me to be thrown into the
den of lionesses, for unprepared
theyd tear an ingnue like me
flesh from bone. Think of the
accomplishment when you turn a
young man out into the world
brimming with confidence and the
skills any woman would find
alluring.
Eliza realised she was more
attracted to the innocent than she
had been to any man in ages. She
paused for a moment, her finger
pressed to her lips as she recalled
the previous night and the way her
hands had slipped and slithered
pleasurably over her skin.
Well take a walk, she said
suddenly, as her confused mind
fought on the one hand to escape
and on the other to submit. Ill
teach you how to escort a lady.
She got to her feet and Emile
followed, slipping his arm through
hers. Like this? The press of his
muscular body made her sigh.
Youre a fast learner. Elizas
eyelids fluttered closed as his
thumb pressed against her palm
and began circling it in slow
rotations. He might just as well
have been circling her clit. She
was unprepared for the jolt of
excitement as his hand slid up her
wrist, tracing the pulsing blue vein
and kneading her soft flesh. In
that instant she knew Emile was
going to be a model student and
she had a sense hed need little of
her instruction in the arts of
seduction since they seemed to
come so naturally.
They strolled out onto the
terrace. The house didnt have a
grand garden but it was pleasant,
leading through thick, shady
walkways which had been artfully
planted to give the garden the
illusion of being much bigger than
it really was. Out of sight of the
house, Eliza paused by a small
love seat and Emile drew her
down beside him. They sat close
together, his thumb continuing to
move in delectable circles. Emile
had the skills of an instinctual
Casanova.
Emile, you dont play me for a
fool, do you? You seem so adept,
so much more experienced than I
thought. Or is it simply that love
comes naturally to you?
Hah? He raised her hand and,
holding it to his sensual lips,
jabbed and circled it with his
tongue before sucking on the
tender flesh. For a second Elizas
world tilted alarmingly as she felt
a warm rush between her legs.
The thought of those lips gently
sucking on her clit was too much
to bear.
A fool. Of course not. The
thing is Ive rehearsed these
scenarios so many times in my
head its like theyre pieces of
music which keep repeating
themselves. Theyre so firmly
embedded in my consciousness
theyve become real to me. So
much so, Im able to take them
out and play them whenever I
like.
My task will be short at this
rate. Eliza quaked, clinging to his
arm as he stroked her hair back
from her nape with the lightest of
embraces.
Is this right? He trickled his
fingers up under her lace sleeve,
slowly tracing the blue vein
further up the inside of her arm.
Yes, Emile.
And I suppose Id fondle your
breasts in the same way? His
glance dropped to the copious
ruffles of her dcolletage. And,
dare I say it, that other place.
Emile. The blood rushed to
Elizas face as his gaze bored into
hers and his lips parted in the
suggestion of a kiss.
Damn him, he had nerves and
wit.
Chapter Six
The next day she was walking
through the market, and had
stopped to admire a particularly
splendid piece of lace, when Eliza
felt a hand on her arm.
Why, look who it is!
Georgiana, Eliza replied,
enduring a familiar frisson. What
a surprise.
Georgiana was the wife of Lord
Howard, a handsome rogue with a
passion for tying his wife up in
private. When shed come to Eliza
many months ago, Georgiana had
been bitter and repressed, but had
swiftly become one of her more
vociferous advocates. She was a
fickle character, loyal to those she
considered her friends, but also
loose with her tongue and
dreadfully spiteful to her social
adversaries.
Hows your little pet puppy?
Have you tied a bow around his
neck yet?
Eliza gave a gasp and spun to
face her. Georgiana laughed.
Dont look at me like that. Youre
such a hot-blooded creature you
were bound to take a puppy with a
sleek black pelt to please you, and
dont dispute it, for your eyes are
shining wickedly and she
tapped her nose Ive
impeccable sources.
She steered Eliza up a side street
towards a discreet tea room.
Pushing open the door, the two
women were assailed by
tantalizing smells.
Sit down, my dear, and
appease your sweet tooth,
Georgiana urged. And, dont
worry. Im not out to topple you. I
owe you a debt of gratitude and
am your devoted protector. Ill
never forget how you liberated me
and saved my miserable marriage.
Eliza smoothed her dress. She
relied on her veil of secrecy. Due
to the strata of society her clients
inhabited, their confidentiality
and her own was her primary
concern.
Your little advice service is
gaining a formidable reputation
amongst the London elite,
Georgiana went on, eyeing her
speculatively as she placed her
gloved hand over Elizas.
However, it seems your talents
have been harnessed in the
direction of young men lacking
how can I put it delicately?
proficiency in sex. Georgiana
shook out her napkin. Emile is
fascinating, yet somewhat
mysterious. Every woman in
society drools over his
considerable charms. Youll have
your work cut out with him,
though doubtless with the right
tuition Im sure hell be a fine
Casanova. Though what
dangerous waters in which to dip
your pretty toes, dear. But that
isnt what I want to tell you, its
this. One day last week, I saw him
sitting on a bench in the park with
his tongue hanging out.
Supposedly petrified of the fairer
sex, it seems he avidly observes
Miss Carter on her daily
constitutional and he was staring
so much at her ridiculous lace
confection his eyes were out on
stalks. For some reason she seems
to have the power to turn the boy
mute. What do you make of that?
Georgiana sipped her tea. Emiles
a man who is seduced not by a
pretty face, but is an admirer of
fripperies and perhaps the secrets
a woman hides. Id say hes more
inclined to be seduced by a silk
ribbon than a plump bosom and
kissable lips. In essence, like Mr
Howard, he seems to like to add a
pinch of spice to his seduction.
Eliza listened to all of this with a
poker face. It wouldnt do to
show exactly how surprised she
was at the revelation. Could it be
that Emile had a clothes fetish?
Well, well, that thought required
further consideration.
Was she falling in love? Eliza
pondered. By now Emile had
kissed her many times. Hed
kissed her neck and her erogenous
zones, her arms and legs and
dcolletage. The only place she
didnt permit any kisses was
directly on her mouth, since the
mouth was the lock, and his
tongue was the key to love.
Sinking into delicious revelry,
she filed away each detail of
Emiles daily lessons to take out
later when she was alone. Then
she replayed them over and over
while she writhed and squealed on
her bed. There was no doubt
about it; against her better
judgement he inflamed and awoke
feelings in her she rarely indulged.
She knew she ought to control it,
should control it, because where
would it lead? The only place it
could lead to, of course danger,
love. And yet on each occasion
she became more daring, allowing
Emile to see a little more of her
flesh, perpetually tempting him
with a flash of lace or a bow.
Eliza was beginning to behave
very badly. She wore skirts which
revealed her well-shaped calves,
dainty shoes which showed the
turn of her ankle, and skilfully
plunging dcolletages highlighting
the barest crescent of nipple.
Todays lesson, Eliza stated,
involves how to touch and how
to derive gratification from the
responses of the body.
Emile stretched out, smiling
flirtatiously, and the devil
whispered in her ear, urging Eliza
into ever more salacious
daydreams. Something went pop
inside her as her gaze travelled
over him hungrily and she
considered what love would be
like in a perfect world. How might
she be able to take the lessons
further, for instance, and persuade
him to undress? Already, shed
forced him to unbutton his shirt so
she could demonstrate how a hand
felt on his skin, these acts being
designed for her own self-
indulgence rather than anything
else. She sighed. Gracious, hed
not shaved again and a shadow
crept attractively over his chin.
She wondered how that stubble
would feel against her cunt. I
think its about time you
undressed, Emile. We must move
on to the next level of instruction.
Emile peered at her
provokingly. Ive no objection to
that. Without further ado, he
clambered to his feet, hastily
unbuttoning his shirt and letting it
drop from his shoulders. He never
objected to anything she
suggested, his coy acceptance and
willingness to submit being just
two more of his charming
attributes.
A strangled moan escaped
Elizas lips as her whole body
turned molten. Hed explained to
her he was a wild creature; that he
liked to run and climb. So shed
been aware hed have a muscular,
toned body. But nothing had
prepared her for the full force of
his beauty. He possessed none of
the thick chest hair of most men.
Oh no, he was incredibly smooth.
Emiles nipples were dark-hued,
the prominences standing proud
and begging to be pinched. His
torso flowed into a slightly
concave belly with just the barest
hint of body hair above the area of
his belt buckle.
Instruct me, Eliza. He was
reaching for that buckle right now.
Im perfectly at ease, do what you
will.
She tingled all over, and the
cutting lace between her legs made
her erupt in shudders of pleasure.
A man of such complexities was
an enigma. A nave idiot on the
one hand, he was also the brazen
seducer on the other.
No, not the buckle. Not yet.
Eliza. He knelt at her feet, took
hold of her hands, and began to
kiss them. Liberate me, please.
Placing her hands on his chest, he
moved them to and fro, over the
hard nubs. She couldnt resist the
temptation and she pinched one
lightly beneath her thumb and
forefinger, making him groan with
delight. Thats nice, Eliza. Then,
before he could stop her, he
grabbed one of her fingers and
slid it into his mouth. Drawn
closer to warm flesh, she melted
against him, the flicker of his
tongue on her fingertip sending
lances of white-hot lust through
her belly which spread further, to
touch places Eliza dreamed about
having touched but had not yet
consented to.
Dont be shocked. You see, I
have fantasies too and Ive lived
them all in my head. My greatest
fantasy has been the one of you
and me. A fabulous,
knowledgeable woman, liberating
and releasing me from my
physical bondage. He pressed her
now wet thumb to his nipple.
Coax me so that I might know
how the feel of a woman
influences me.
Driven by desire, her entire
body dancing with sensations, she
could do nothing but relent. Eliza
stroked his skin, very gently at
first, drawing small spirals with
her tongue, then lashing it with
broad laps. Next, she smoothed
her hands over his tight muscles
and across his chest, moving them
down over his concave, flexing
muscles to the belt buckle,
purposefully feathering his taut
cock with the stiff lace of her
sleeve. As she bent further down
she licked his nipple, the lace and
satin of both long sleeves and
copious bows feathering his skin
and making him cry out like a
wounded animal. Elizas head
spun with delight. She was
wielding her power, and feeling
powerful always precipitated her
into orgasm. A lurid fantasy began
rising from the depths of her
subconscious. She believed
Emiles story, but as innocent as
he appeared on the outside, on the
stage of his mind his thoughts
masqueraded in a number of
naughty guises, only limited by the
boundaries of what, she was sure,
was a greedy, filthy imagination.
A nip with her teeth elicited a hiss
of satisfaction.
A certain pains welcome spice,
isnt it, Emile?
Mmm, he moaned as once
again he guided her hand down
over his flat belly to his buckle.
Eliza revelled in the mystery of
his body, her turbulent feelings
coalescing in a whirlpool of
shudders and explosive, wet
pleasure. I think thats enough of
a lesson for today.
Oh no, Eliza. He grinned at her
mischievously. Please, show me
what I should expect from a
woman and then you can teach me
how to bring her satisfaction and
liberation. Isnt that the nature of
our contract? He was helping her
now as, coaxed by her own
hungers, she struggled with his
buckle. In order to instruct me
you must see the bare canvas of
my body, as only then can you
begin to understand me.
Emile sagged back with a gasp,
his unbuttoned fly exposing a
square of pink flesh.
Eliza slithered to the floor, her
hand slipping beneath, holding her
breath as she felt the tuberosity
stirring and filling her hand. A
short, sharp shocks the best way
to tackle any problem. Its like a
fear of water. If you stand and
regard it too long youll never
plunge in.
Emile stood up and Eliza jerked
his pants down over his thighs,
wriggling them down his legs. In
his nakedness he was a
breathtaking Adonis. His legs were
long and lean and his full balls
nestled in a nest of fine, dark
pubic hair, framing the most
imposing cock shed ever seen.
The answer to a womans dream,
in fact. A thrusting spear, it
needed no further coaxing from
her to bring it to full attention as
now it was shiveringly erect. And
the best part was hed never been
tutored in cunt. No, this virgin
creature had never felt a womans
velvet walls or moist warmth.
Look at it. Tell me why Im so
afflicted? Emile cried, covering
his eyes with his hands.
Breathlessly she leant forward.
Her body, fertilised by the sight of
such delights, was bursting into
ardent growth. Shed never been
so feverish and wet. Eliza gently
drew back the foreskin, inspecting
the bulbous tip with her thumb
and forefinger. How she wanted to
slide it in her mouth.
Help me, Eliza. You see how
stiff it is, but still not yet ready to
yield? If I cannot learn to liberate
myself what chance do I stand
with a lover?
Aha, Eliza murmured,
enjoying the feel of quivering
penile strength under her fingers.
So, we come to the ulterior
motive. Youve met a girl you like
and you fear youll look an idiot?
Seized with rapacious longing, her
thick, black ringlets had fallen
loose of her combs and now
straggled around her face, and her
expression was a mixture of wide-
eyed wonder and lust. Licking her
lips, she stroked his belly, letting
her fingertips graze his cock.
Well move in slow increments.
First of all you must learn how it
feels to be caressed and then
youll have more of an
appreciation of what a woman
wants. She ran her hands up his
lean thighs. Emile barely moved,
but a gentle shudder, like the
ripples on a pool, passed over
him. Eliza watched, enraptured, as
the rod tightened even more, its
pumping blood supply deliciously
latticing it with prominent veins.
For shame, the boy was a
specimen to behold. Eliza was
dizzy and almost out of her mind
with conflicting emotions.
Oh, thats so good, he
whimpered, as she stroked her
nail gently up his penis and circled
the tip. Then, stretching his arms
above his head, he arched his
back. Release me, release me
from this prison, and then I want
you to instruct me in how you like
to be touched.
His gaze had fastened on the
ruffles concealing Elizas breasts
and it was these he concentrated
on now as Eliza, yielding to her
lusts, set to work milking him
with the skill of a milk maiden.
Although love didnt come into it,
she adored the male form and this
new creature who responded so
adeptly to her embraces and who
she knew would one day be
capable of giving a woman
thrilling sensations was
suddenly the centre of her
attentions. As much as she played
and coaxed, though, Emile would
not gush.
Eliza soon began to wonder
how such a remarkably young
man could control his animal
passions, since that was what he
was evidently doing. What a lover
hed make in the fullness of time.
She couldnt help it; determined to
succeed in an expulsion, she
circled the quivering organ with
the tip of her tongue.
Eliza, youre torturing me!
Emile wailed as she slipped the
object of her desires into her
mouth and began subjecting it to
the attentions of her tongue. Eliza,
Eliza, help me.
She bit down gently, waiting for
the spurt of warm ejaculate.
Instead, Emiles cock twitched
once or twice but remained as
firm as before.
Eliza rocked back, surprised.
Now, this was unusual and yet
there was something perversely
exciting about a ramrod hard dick
which remained obstinate. If
Emile had been her lover, shed
have been ecstatic.
Do you see how my lifes
ruined? How will I ever please a
woman like Penelope?
Penelope. Eliza felt a frisson
of jealousy but rapidly tried to
dismiss it. How could he dream of
Penelope Carter at a time like this?
Emile grasped his hawser of a
cock in his hand. This thing
which I should control controls
me, as if it has a life of its own.
Eliza raised an eyebrow. But,
Emile, all it requires is discipline
and, like an obdurate horse, it
must be tamed. These are early
days. You should count yourself
lucky. Most men of my
acquaintance have trouble holding
in their juices and crave control.
Not me. Despite the most
ardent passion it wont release.
And I confess, since I met you,
its the hardest its ever been.
Theres no need to worry, Ive
heard of this problem before.
Eliza soothed. You must simply
learn to relax and, miraculously,
the problem will solve itself. Sex
is a skill. Youve spent so long
denying your power you need to
learn how to release it.
And do you think you can
instruct me in that, Eliza?
Eliza surveyed the fine
specimen in front of her. Beneath
her skirts her thighs were wet with
her love juices and her thighs
quivered with greed as she dreamt
about impaling herself on the
quivering shaft a shaft, it must
be said, which would remain
ramrod hard for as long as she
wished to indulge herself. Of
course, Emile. But this is a delicate
situation and we need to wake you
up carefully. If sex wont do it,
then theres bound to be some
little fetish which will distract you
enough to lose yourself. Once
your minds preoccupied with
pleasures other than ejaculation,
itll just happen. Eliza was trying
to suppress her excitement. One
thing was for sure, this
unexpected conundrum was going
to provide her with a massive
distraction of her own.
Chapter Seven
Whether he knew it or not, Eliza
reflected, Emile was gifted in the
arts of love and she revelled in
every moment of his tutoring as
she taught him the way to caress a
woman, each stroke of his fingers
as they travelled over her skin a
symphony of sensations. Youre
very good at this, she commented
as he inspected her nipples, which
were visible through an exquisite
panelling of fine Bruges lace. In
fact, Id say your touch is better
than a man with ten years
experience.
By now, Eliza had allowed
Emile to touch her a great deal.
They grow hard so quickly,
Eliza, how does it feel? he said
thoughtfully as he tentatively
squeezed her nipple again.
Sometimes, I wonder whos
giving these lessons. Whos the
professor and whos the student?
Emile laughed, tossing back his
thick hair. Wouldnt it be nice if,
for once, a man and a woman
could be on equal terms?
However, in this case I know
whos mistress.
Eliza pondered for a moment.
Shed been pondering a great
many things lately, not least of
which was the realisation that she
should never have conceded to
Katias silly request. Shed
underestimated temptation and
had engaged in a dangerous game
that was becoming more and more
intoxicating.
Emile watched her with his
provocative glance while pressing
his cheek to the tight satin of her
kiss-stained bodice. I wonder if
your skins as smooth as this
satin? He ran his tongue across
the smooth swell of her belly, or
at least what he could see of it
between the lacings and intricate
fastenings, which he was now
trying to loosen with his teeth. She
held her breath; he was an
extremely fast learner, treating
each lesson as if he was an ardent
adventurer setting foot on a new
continent. When you were
playing with my nipples, Eliza, it
was like you could control my
cock. You may as well have had a
whip in your hand, an invisible
whip, for you were directing me.
Eliza swallowed. Her mouth
was dry. A whip would be a
vulgar pursuit, dont you think?
she retorted cautiously, wondering
at the same time if a flick of her
riding crop might indeed do the
trick. Although, as regards
fetishes and in view of what you
told me before, whats meat to one
man is poison to another.
Cupping her breast, Emile
pinched her nipple between his
thumb and forefinger as, leaning
forward, he brushed her lips with
his tongue. Eliza sat up abruptly,
trying to push him away; instead,
Emile tumbled her back on the
bed. His lips were soft, his tongue
deft and naughty as it darted here
and there. Ill kiss you properly
and as a lover might, he said,
and hang the consequences.
And Ill punish you for
insubordination. She hated it that
he was taking the initiative. Elizas
heart was hammering and she
bubbled with rage as she
pummelled him with her fists. But
Emile, having pinned her down,
was kissing her forcefully and
bruising her lips. Whats come
over you? Let me go. Im your
instructress.
Ive wondered if an erotic
examination of your plump and
unctuous body might fire my gun,
Eliza. And then I thought the
divine sweet, musky smell of you
might do it. I begin to think in the
light of all your lusciousness,
Penelopes a little inferior with her
stick-thin arms and legs.
You mustnt be rude about
Penelope, Eliza retorted. Penelope
Carter was the daughter of Fiona
Carter, a distant relation of the
king. Most of the family were tall
and willow-thin, with fine, corn-
coloured hair, testimony to their
Dutch heritage, but with an insipid
set of complementary features to
go with it.
Youre right. Sometimes my
emotions get the better of me, and
when they do you must correct me
and correct me severely. Emile sat
up, kissing her hand and holding
it to his breast. Perhaps Im truly
possessed by the devil? No
wonder my mother struck me. Do
you see how my frustrations
bubble to the surface? Lately I feel
like a kettle boiling on the hob and
about to blow its lid. What woman
could possibly want a man
enchained with such perversities?
Patience, Eliza soothed, sitting
up and adjusting her ringlets. You
trust me and my wise counsel,
dont you, Emile? Anyway, Ive
been thinking and heres my
suggestion. From tomorrow well
try different methods. She was
fiddling with the key around her
neck. Theres always a key to
unlocking any conundrum, the
clever part is finding it.
Eliza quivered as she fantasised
about lowering herself very slowly
onto his slippery pole.
You really imagine I can be
cured then, Eliza?
Yes, I do, Emile. With intimacy
itll happen one day. In the
meantime
The next day was terribly hot
and they were lying on the couch
by the window in the parlour.
Outside, birds were singing in the
trees and bees buzzed lazily in the
honeysuckle which curled around
the mullioned windows.
Emile opened an eye and
smirked at her. We have a good
friendship, dont we, and as good
friends we can ask anything of
one another?
Of course, Emile.
I find Im changing and
becoming intoxicated by your very
presence, Eliza. He sat up, his
look blazing with emotion. Im
ready to progress and you must
make it happen apace.
How virile and handsome he is,
Eliza thought, as the forbidden
images she stored up to be
enjoyed as guilty pleasures late at
night tumbled through her
consciousness. She experienced a
flutter of excitement. You are?
Well, thats good, but progress
how?
As you directed, Ive been
testing myself and revealing what
things please me and which dont.
As a result Ive come to this
conclusion. Would you not dress
for me, as I request?
Seeing Elizas look of
consternation, he kissed her
quickly on the lips. My darling,
let me detail my findings. It seems
I have a very complex mind, for
Ive pondered your beauty and
tantalizing body which is surely
enough to inspire any man, with
its sumptuous curves and wet
folds and I discover the thing
which excites me isnt simply the
notion of you naked, but perhaps
more importantly, the thought of
what conceals you. Your clothes
are so sensually pleasing theyre a
feast, and there are more folds and
ruffles than Ive ever seen in my
life. I dream of touching your
silks and satins and the little pieces
of lace you put in your hair.
Grasping her skirt, he buried his
face in it. Forgive me, Eliza. I
want to be tortured by your
vtements.
This was certainly a
development, Eliza conjectured,
holding her hand to the region of
her thundering heart. So
Georgiana had been right: Emile
was germinating a fetish for
costumes.
Now, Ive upset you when I
meant nothing by it. I was
fortified in making this revelation
by the fact that the other day I
bumped into a young woman of
your acquaintance who told me
that if I played my cards right I
might be able to coax you into
revealing your secret. The fact you
love to tease discerning men with
your attire.
Eliza jumped to her feet,
startled, the blood roaring in her
ears. That would be Georgiana.
How dare she? Wait till I see her.
Emile grabbed her wrist and
pulled her back down on the
couch. Now, now, no harms
been done. Georgiana struck me
as a little busybody, whos in awe
of you. Anyway, since then, Ive
become set in my intentions. This
notion entices me and could even
go some way to curing my
condition.
Well, Eliza said indignantly.
This is a pretty state of affairs.
Emile leant closer, his breath on
her cheek making her shiver all
over. How much she wanted to
kiss and embrace him as a lover
might, and yet she knew she must
not. She had to master herself at
all times. For one thing she had a
position to uphold; for another she
knew the moment she gave in,
shed be quite undone.
Would you show me your
wardrobes, Eliza? The dresses and
bustles, the veils and pretty little
hats and perhaps ? Before she
could move, Emile grabbed her
foot and, taking off her slipper,
held her stockinged foot, rubbing
it in delicate circular movements
before raising it to his lips and
kissing the sole. The pretty little
boots which hide these darling
little feet. He nipped her toe,
kissing her ankle and licking his
way up her leg. Please, please,
Eliza. Do I have to beg or is it
simply you demand some favour
in return? Id be happy to oblige.
Youd have me dress up and
make a little stage play of it?
Emile, how dare you?
Yes, my sweet. Id discover
what suited my tastes, then dress
you and have you pose for me so
I could feast my eyes on you.
Eliza shivered. She was
disturbed, but it was a tempting
scenario and hard to resist. He
circled her plump thigh with the
tips of his fingers and turned his
puppy-dog eyes on her. Show me
your fripperies and frills, Eliza. I
know that secretly youd like to
dress up and tease me, wouldnt
you? In fact, nothing would give
you more pleasure.
Elizas skin erupted in
goosebumps. All right, she said
defiantly. Ill indulge in your little
game but only because I think it
would be advantageous to your
cure. What would you like to see?
Emile stretched out. There was
a languid, untamed beauty about
him with his wild, black hair loose
around his shoulders. First of all,
let me see your shoes. Well start
at the bottom and work our way
up.
Yes, why not? Grabbing his
hands, Eliza pulled him to his feet
and led Emile up to her bedroom
which was a feast for the eyes and
senses with its luscious swagged
bed, heavy drapes and textures.
Emile, enchanted by this fairy tale
princess in her castle of
extravagant designs, sat down on
Elizas bed. It was covered in silk
brocade cushions, since she liked
nothing better than disporting
naked.
Opening the large black
armoire, Eliza selected some pretty
court shoes, boots, and
embroidered house slippers and
held them up one by one.
Instantly, Emiles attention was
gripped and he took each one off
her, inspecting it while Eliza
watched in palpating fascination.
Next, he made her try them on and
walk up and down, swishing her
skirt and lifting it to show her
ankles.
Let me see your dresses and
bodices and pretty skirts.
Eliza selected a few she thought
particularly flirtatious, holding
them up against her body. Emile
sighed and stroked his cock, and
Eliza bit her lip in frustration. She
was already fizzing comfortably
between her legs and a severe jerk
on the lace would have been nice.
However, she dared not give her
dirty little secret away.
Let me touch them, all of them.
Yes, that one he pointed to an
exquisite silk bodice with floating
sleeves
and that one He then pointed
to a heavy lace gown. Eliza, who
was experiencing a tingling
sensation of arousal, stood in
front of Emile while he buried his
mouth and face in the velvet and
satin. Oh Eliza, this is so divine I
hardly know where to start or
what theme to ask you to wear
first. Whats more, I can even
smell the scent of woman and
perfume in every fibre and ruffle.
Why dont you let me be the
judge of what to wear? Every time
you come, Ill choose a different
theme and then you can tell me
whether you like it or not. Well
take it from there. The excitement
was increasing, and Eliza was
intending to profit from these acts
of titillation. Of course you must
undress; I must see how the
experiment suits you. We must set
a rule or two if were to maintain
discipline.
Naturally, but I have a request
or two of my own which I know
will enhance the experiment
enormously and even hasten the
cure.
If you insist, Eliza muttered
reluctantly. But I hope you realise
this is a serious experiment and
not a game? She tapped her foot
impatiently. When she clamped
her thighs together, her aroused
clitoris rubbed against the chafing
lace.
The rules are these. Youre
never to wear any underclothes
beneath the garments, unless I
expressly wish you to, Emile said
teasingly.
What a strange rule, Eliza
quavered, tapping him playfully
on the nose. So, you want a little
pinch of spice to heat things up,
do you? Then youll have it. Little
did Emile know she hardly wore
any underclothes anyway, so it
wouldnt be a hardship.
Before she had time to move
out of the way he grabbed her
hand and, pulling her down on the
bed, kissed her impudently,
flicking the inside of her lips with
his tongue.
And when, she said
breathlessly, do we start this
experiment?
Why, tomorrow, if you please,
Eliza.
Chapter Eight
The prospect of not having to
make an excuse to dress up
excited Eliza beyond belief. That
night she hardly slept at all, and
the next morning having
unlocked the door to her secret
wardrobe she spent ages staring
at her chosen outfit, before
placing the key on the bureau
where she promptly forgot about
it.
Eliza thought shed treat Emile
to a surprise for his birthday.
Shed quickly ascertained he
adored black outfits and had even
gone so far as to show her the
designs for clothing hed thought
would particularly suit her. These
Eliza had passed on to Madame
Vilette, whod fashioned her a
fitting birthday ensemble. Id
normally dissuade a woman like
you from wearing black, shed
explained, but you, Miss Pinch,
have a way of making black, look
la mode.
When Madame showed her the
finished article, Eliza was
breathless. The corset was
delightful, as tight as tight could
be, with intricate embroidery
framing the breasts and thrusting
them forward. To this was
attached sweeping leg o mutton
sleeves of sheerest organza. The
entire thing was finished off with
a black hobble skirt, the material
heavily embroidered and weighty,
each wave overlaid in lace hiding
a bare slit which was exactly the
thing for an inquisitive finger.
Goodness, youve far exceeded
my expectations. Emile said
approvingly as he looked Eliza up
and down.
Well, I reckoned you deserved
a treat for your birthday, and here
it is, Eliza replied coyly,
smoothing down the ruffles. The
stroke of the thick folds of fabric
around the top of her plump,
naked legs was immensely
satisfying. Adopting a pose, she
stood in front of him with one
bare foot balanced on his knee.
Today shed fashioned an
ensemble beneath her clothes by
passing two thin strips of lace
through her cunt, onto which
shed attached a rough button
which savagely massaged her clit.
What shoes match, do you
think? She wiggled her toes. A
soft pair of slippers or pretty
button blacks?
Emile took her by the shoulders
and, turning her, he moistened his
lips as he absorbed the profusion
of lace, ruffles, and tempting
glimpses of pink flesh. Eliza felt a
surge of triumphant delight so
forceful she had to clamp her
thighs together, and as she did so
the thick Bruges lace between her
legs rubbed her fragile clit stem
harder, causing a satisfying
burning sensation.
Its certainly the most
astounding birthday gift Ive ever
had. But why are you standing like
that, Eliza? Emile sat timidly on
the edge of the bed with his legs
crossed. His erection tented his
fashionably tailored pants.
I confess, she said, resting her
hand on the back of a chair to
steady herself, I have a secret too,
Emile.
And what would that be, my
darling Eliza?
Eliza strolled about the room in
agitated fashion. Your
instructress has a peccadillo of her
own. I admit to taking pleasure in
clothes, but not in the normal way.
Yes, I enjoy wearing them and the
touch of so many fabrics gives me
an incredible thrill. However
and I hardly dare speak about it
no one knows how wanton a
whore I am beneath my finery.
She rubbed the silky fabric
between her fingertips and Emile
gasped as the little folds opened,
showing opportune flashes of
pink flesh.
He sucked his lip thoughtfully.
Well, knowing you, your minds
bound to inhabit more daring
spheres than the average. Seeing
as its my birthday present, come
here and let me touch it. Emile
sunk his fingers into the fabric
then, lifting the folds, he buried
his face in it, fluttering it over his
cheeks and moaning with
pleasure. What devilish spell are
you weaving on me, Eliza? I never
knew a woman compel so much
with clothing. What am I to do,
mistress, instruct me and chastise
me for having such naughty
thoughts? You see, I cant help
fantasising over the different
textures and how theyll feel
against my skin. I want you to
touch me with lace and silk and
satin and Im sure, in fact Im
positive he gazed at her
wistfully that it would cure me
if you beat me with a whip made
of lace.
Eliza, spellbound, was frozen to
the spot. Was he begging for
chastisement? Surely not, but then
again Well, this was an
unexpected development. She ran
her tongue over her lips as a
prickle surfed up her spine and
tightened her nipples into firm
buttons. Yes, she should contrive
a whip of lace and buttons to flay
that tumescent beast. Then, she
could have him strip and stand in
front of her as he pleaded with her
to flagellate him.
As for this other secret, well, I
can only speculate on that until
you see fit to enlighten me he
looked up at her doe-eyed and I
can tell you wont do that today.
Emile leapt up from the bed.
Going over to her dressing table,
he took two lengths of her purple
hair ribbon. Raise your leg, Eliza.
Please indulge me. He proceeded
to tie the ribbons around her
ankle. The little black shoes with
the bar would set this ribbon off
deliciously. Dont you think it
adds a certain je ne sais quoi?
Eliza had a sense there was
more to the ribbons than met the
eye, and mysterious feelings
darted through her from head to
toe. The ribbon was very tight
around her ankle but the pain was
rather pleasant. Emiles kinky
game was setting her pulse racing
faster than usual and she liked it.
She hated to think that Emile had
any control over her whatsoever,
but recently he did seem to be
developing a newfound
confidence. Eliza wet her lips.
What a glorious temptation! Emile
looked gorgeous in a new black
lace shirt and stylish frock coat
with his hair combed back and
secured in a ponytail.
His gaze raked her lasciviously.
Today there seemed a more
devilish air about him than usual
as he caressed his chin before
pulling her down roughly beside
him. Heres the thing, Eliza. Its
about time I told you some of my
other secrets too.
Oh, and what would they be?
For some time Ive been
writing little fantasies about us
which I dream about acting out.
Emile slipped a slim book out of
his pocket and held it up. Eliza
darted a look at the volume. Shed
noticed it before and was curious
about it. Indeed, shed have liked
to have perused it; however, Emile
never left the book lying
discarded. It was always in his
pocket, and when he fell asleep
and she went to his coat, shed
find out that hed moved it and
hidden it. On questioning him,
Emile had said huffily, Cant a
man be afforded his privacy? You
have your private diaries and I
never ask to look in those.
Eliza had laughed. And you
wouldnt want to; all thats in my
journal are old notes. Shed
tapped her head playfully. The
totality of my ideas is in here,
Emile. Theyre much safer not
written down.
Eliza made a grab for the book.
However, Emile held it out of her
reach. As she did so, the button
and lace which shed worn all last
night as she indulged in her erotic
fantasies dug even deeper into her
clit, making her gasp.
Without further ado, Emile sunk
down on the floor. Placing his
secret little book on her knee, he
ran his finger down the entries.
Ive thought of some stimulating
negotiation.
Eliza shook out the long,
luscious ruffles of her skirt. To
be frank, I dont even know why
Im sitting here listening to this
absurd nonsense, so make the
most of it because I shant obey
you so meekly again.
How do you expect to affect a
cure on me if you wont listen to
me?
Eliza moved her head to the
side, as she coquettishly flicked a
ribbon with her finger. This was
true. You tease and tease with
that book. What an odd notion for
a man, and so childish.
Most definitely not. I find my
thoughts develop much more
clarity when theyre written
down.
Eliza pouted petulantly. So,
why share your mysteries with me
now, after all this time?
Why? Because I thought we
might act one or two of them out
together.
Act them out? Im your
instructress, Emile, and Ill decide
if engagement in such games will
be effective. Eliza was aghast, her
whole body erupting in a violent
shudder as Emile pressed his
mouth against her quim and then
burst out laughing.
Goodness, Eliza. What a little
devil and a schemer you are. I can
tell simply by the feverish look on
your face that you crave my
stimulation. Come, play along.
Coax me into reciting my tales.
Plead for me to do it.
Eliza was confused. Something
was wrong here. The thought of
Emiles private fantasies excited
her and she realised shed exposed
a weakness in herself. For once,
she wasnt totally in control and
she should be. No, I wont, why
should I?
He jumped to his feet. Youre
right, forgive me. Youre the
expert and Im the student.
Elizas heart was bumping like a
drum. Just the sight of Emiles tall,
muscular back and the way his
hair curled around his shoulders
made her melt with longing. She
wriggled uncomfortably. Later on
shed have to go through her
haberdashery chest and fashion
something coarser to wear
between her legs. What a distorted
little individual she was. Come to
think of it, if she tightened her
chastity belt enough to make her
sex lips pout, whenever Emile laid
his head on her lap she could
move her legs and the lace would
give her an orgasm.
Emile was staring at her as,
licking his finger, he slowly
turned the pages of the notebook.
All right, Ill whet your appetite
and do it anyway. Now, let me
look. I hardly know where to
start. Perhaps at the beginning,
since that always seems the best
place.
Eliza opened her mouth and
then closed it again as Emile
prepared to read.
My dear Eliza, every entry Ive
made in here relates to your dear
self.
Eliza bit her lip. She was about
to ask and what of Penelope?
since, according to Martha, he
seemed so smitten by her outfits.
Emile paused for a moment as he
turned another page. Aha!
There was nothing more to do,
Eliza conceded. Eyeing the box of
marzipans on her bedside table,
she stretched across and, selecting
one, popped it into her mouth. It
instantly helped her steady herself
and she needed to think her way
around the conundrum of her
impetuous and unruly student.
Emile was a mass of complexities,
making him exceedingly
interesting to unravel. Rather than
be direct, it appeared he liked to
create a veil between himself and
his urges by distancing himself on
the pages of a notebook composed
of illicit fantasies. A naughty
thought came into her head. She
was of the opinion that exposure
therapy could be used to great
effect to cure foibles. Confront
the nemesis head on was her
motto. Heat raged through her
body.
You may as well confess, she
mumbled, her mouth stuffed full
of the sweet confection.
In this dream, Emile
explained, you commanded me to
obey and I took off my clothing
and lay down. You then
proceeded to fasten my arms and
legs to each of the posts of your
bed with long pieces of lace and
satin ribbon. It aroused me so
much I decided to explore that
idea in more detail.
Did you? Eliza commented.
You do realise this kind of thing
has deep psychological
implications? She felt very queer;
her cheeks were flushed and her
heart was pounding so loudly in
her ears, she couldnt think
straight.
Suffice to say, even being tied
up by you didnt excite me by far
enough so I developed the next
scenario and the one after that.
Rapidly, Eliza, your forceful
presence took my stories over.
You began to provoke me
dreadfully with your clothing and
I discovered the sensation was
enhanced if I imagined you not
just restraining me with your
scarves, your lace, or even
different textures of ribbons all
tied together, but wrapping them
around my body so I was
mummified. As disgusting as it
sounds, these erotic interludes
only served to inflame me more,
so that now I only have to imagine
the slide of silk or the scratch of
that fabulous stiff lace and I want
to be smothered in it. He paused.
And thats not all, for it gets
much worse.
Tell me. I order it, Eliza
commanded, chewing furiously
on another marzipan.
Itll do you the world of good
to confess everything. In fact, I
dont think your cure is far off.
I asked you to tie the knots
tighter and tighter. It was painful
but, strangely, the pain did
something to me and I liked it. Do
you think that makes me sound
odd?
No, Emile, I dont.
Then, after tying me, you left
me for ages alone and straining
for relief. You said it was
medicine and that you were
taming my cock into submission.
However, this treatment only
conspired to make it longer and
stiffer.
Eliza raised an eyebrow. She
found this story very tantalizing.
I really must be a depraved
individual because, in the next
fantasy, you tied me up but I
persuaded you to wind a larger
piece of black lace around my
chest, covering my nipples. It had
to be of a particular type one of
those wide, embroidered pieces
which are very rough. The lace
kept rubbing my nipples until they
were burning and you had to lick
them better with your tongue.
Emile shot her a sideways glance
at this point. I liked it, it did
things to me. The sensation of
your cool, slippery tongue in
contrast to the rough lace, well.
The binding forced me into a
place of divine happiness and
scintillating sensations once I rose
above the pain.
Eliza, fascinated and repelled at
the same time, was clenching her
thigh muscles as waves of
pleasure flooded over her. She
could associate with this, because
she had the same fascinations
herself. Why, even now she could
imagine Emile beneath her skirts
as he held her open and licked
her, his smooth, dextrous tongue
soothing all those sore places the
lace and buttons had rubbed.
Ah, these fantasies are the most
sublime bliss. Your satins and
laces torture my cock. Not to say,
the expert way you bind me, yes,
bind me mercilessly and tightly.
The first time you did it, it was
just the base of my cock, but the
next time you did it all the way up
so that only the head was showing
and then well then, you did a
naughty thing. You whipped me
with a knotted whip of lace and
ribbons and you did it very hard,
so my legs and cock were pink all
over. And you kept changing
costumes and caressing me with
your sleeves, the hem of your
skirt, even the tip of your little
pointed toe.
Eliza shuddered; she was giddy
and her eyes were blazing with
tortured passion.
I have just one more story and
then thats enough for today.
But this ones even worse, isnt
it? Eliza licked her fingers. She
could guess what was coming.
Tell me, Emile, or I fear Ill get
dreadfully bored.
You tied me as usual and
bound my cock. Then, fluffing
out an amazing diaphanous skirt
of sheerest voile, you sat on my
face, while I licked your delicious,
plump little sex lips which, on this
occasion, you had tied up in an
elaborate harness of lace, buttons,
and ribbons. It was incredible. I
was suffocated and yet quite
euphoric as you bent forward and
tickled my cock.
Elizas toes curled into claws
and her quim felt like an army of
ants had come to life in it. There
was no possible way Emile could
know about her little fetish, was
there?
Thats enough, Eliza said,
springing to her feet so she could
excuse herself and go into her
cabinet de toilette, where she
jerked the lace into her tender
places so aggressively, she
screeched with delight.
When she returned, Emile was
lying on her bed with a self-
satisfied smirk on his face. Now,
I ask myself, would you ever be
brave enough to play along with
those particular fantasies, Eliza?
His glance was one of light-
hearted flirtatiousness, and yet
rippling beneath the surface was a
liquid river of bubbling male
magma which would one day, she
was sure, explode with violent
consequences if she could find the
key to vent it.
Chapter Nine
He was perfect, Eliza mused the
next morning as she stared at her
croissants and cup of coffee, and
realised for the first time in ages
shed lost her appetite. Emile had
turned the lessons into a battle of
wits. Never had she met such a
cunningly delectable man, one
who stirred all the necessary
instincts in her and mirrored her
quirks exactly.
Eliza had decided to wear the
birthday ensemble and, that
afternoon when Emile arrived, she
teased open the first bow on the
corset, circling the small expanse
of exposed pink flesh with her
finger as he stripped without
further ado.
Come and sit here on the bed,
Emile commanded.
Eliza sat on the edge of the bed
as requested, raising her leg and
straightening it provocatively.
Can I add to this game, Emile, by
asking you to unfasten the ribbons
around my ankles? Holding up
her skirt, she placed her leg on his
knees, so that Emile could
unfasten the ribbons he liked Eliza
to wear. She whipped the ribbons
out of his fingers and, pushing
him back on the bed, straddled his
hips. You wanted a little pinch of
spice so you shall have it. She
passed the ribbons across her lips.
What are you doing, Eliza?
Im your confessor and teacher
and I know best how to cure you,
Emile. Since youre so determined
with your little stories Ive decided
to try an experiment.
Eliza could hardly drag her gaze
away from his firm, muscular
torso, flat belly, and cheeky, erect
cock. Indeed, she was becoming a
seething cauldron and droplets of
her juices were kissing her thighs.
Grabbing the ramrod hard shaft,
she tied the ribbon around the
base, twisting it cruelly.
No, Eliza, not that, I cant bear
it.
But we must explore. Besides
which youre becoming far too
bossy and disobedient. A student
never takes matters into his own
hands and youre doing far too
much of that.
Emile was peering at her
bodice. He lifted a ribbon with the
corner of his nail and then
proceeded to untie it, revealing the
tempting crescent of Elizas
nipple. How naughty you are,
Eliza. Sometimes your ingenuity
knows no bounds. Seeing as Im
conceding to the cock torture,
move your corset around, make
your nipple poke through this little
hole.
I dont know why I should, but
seeing as this is in the nature of an
experiment Wriggling her
torso, Eliza began teasing her
tender flesh through the aperture.
And whats this? He lifted a
ruffle. You have a tear in your
skirt.
I dont think so, Eliza said,
biting the end of her finger in
frustration. She wanted to feel
Emiles finger on her skin and
have him kiss and accost her as a
lover would. Really, she chided
herself. She must get a hold of her
emotions.
And heres another. You need
another dressmaker, I think? he
taunted.
Eliza couldnt help herself. She
placed her hands on his cheeks.
Emile, Im a most proficient
tease, but a tease, you understand,
of the most innocent nature.
As she leant forward, the clever
boning in the corset thrust Elizas
breasts out so the tips of her
nipples grazed his chest.
Emile grabbed her and,
tumbling her onto her back, he
reached beneath her skirt and
began stroking the insides of her
thighs. His fingers grazed her
sensitive sex, inching closer to the
lace and button ensemble. Eliza
clasped her thigh muscles around
his hand in warning, eliciting a
groan of surprise form Emile, who
tried to extend his finger further
so he could tickle the viscous
folds. A bolt of electricity passed
through her body as the button
continued to rub.
Eliza was intoxicated by this
bold youth and she was now
wondering if he might make the
perfect lover. She realised with a
pang that Emile was special, very
special; a unique blend of
innocent, playmate, and romantic.
How could she let a man like this
slink away from her clutches and
into the hands of someone like
Penelope Carter?
Kiss me with feeling, as you
would Penelope, she taunted,
trailing the long gauze sleeve of
her corset over his bare nipples
and smiling in amusement as they
hardened to peaks. And Ill give
you a reward.
You will. Grasping her curls,
he kissed her, his impertinent
tongue flicking back and forth
over her lips and teeth. Eliza sunk
her hands into his hair and held
him close as her own riposted
greedily. She could only hazard a
guess that if his cock behaved in
the same fashion she was in for a
treat.
Emile sprawled back loose-
limbed on the bed, a spectacular
picture of libidinous manhood
with his erect penis as hard as a
hawser, peeping from within
tightly bound silk, yet still
stubbornly resisting the yielding of
its load.
Eliza would have been quite
happy carrying on with their
explorations as they were, if
something had not happened one
day to change the dynamics of the
situation. She was about to
discover something which made
her at first very angry and then
exceedingly shocked in equal
proportions.
They often spent long
afternoons playing card games and
reading, and sometimes the both
of them would fall into a
somnolent sleep. On this
particular day, Eliza woke up on
the couch in the parlour, though,
and found Emile gone. She had a
fairly good idea where he was.
Emile would frequently creep
upstairs and, once there, would
open her drawers and one of the
many wardrobes and stare at her
clothing. She knew this was his
little secret because shed detected
the evidence. Eliza was terribly
neat and tidy with everything she
did and she could instantly tell if a
ribbon had been rewound in a
different fashion, her shoes placed
out of order, or even if her
beautiful ball gowns were slightly
in disarray. But never had she
been able to catch him red-
handed, doing something well,
something despicable. She ought
to have guessed because Emiles
fetish now had such a grip on him
he was becoming hungrier and
more careless as his confidence
increased. Hed begged Eliza to
wear no end of different costumes
and he would sit between her legs,
tasting her clothes like hed taste
different courses on a menu. He
liked to rub his cock against satin,
silk, and lace and sometimes his
lust would reach such heights hed
start moaning and groaning as if
he was in pain.
Sitting up, she cocked her head
to one side. The house was as
silent as a tomb, the open
windows emitting somnolent
birdsong and the droning of
insects. Yawning and getting to
her feet, Eliza crept upstairs on her
bare feet and over to her bedroom
door.
Oh, the shock of it, although
deep down shed already
suspected. The dog was lost in a
world of his own, playing with
her clothes. Hed heavily bound
his splendid cock in a contraption
of ribbons and bows and was
parading up and down like a
proud tribal chieftain, hips
outthrust, while beating the
recalcitrant organ with her
hairbrush. It seemed he was even
more ingenious than she was,
since hed fastened two of her
broad silk ribbons around his
waist, threaded them around his
groins, and then fastened his cock
with a further strip of lace to the
belt so it was held at an
impossibly upright angle, the only
exposed part of it its glistening tip.
With a rising feeling of
annoyance she realised Emile was
dangling the key to the wardrobe
in his hand. Damn, shed been
getting too careless lately and it
was her own fault. Evidently hed
been biding his time and noticed
shed left it on top of the
cupboard. She couldnt believe
her eyes. As macabre as the scene
was, though, she was violently
excited and her hands strayed
beneath her afternoon tea gown,
under which of course she
wore nothing.
What was he doing now?
Heaven forfend, he had taken one
of her naughtiest skirts a
particular favourite out of the
closet, whimpering as he
smoothed it against his body. The
rascal, hed better not mark it.
Mystified, Elizas legs were weak
and she crouched against the door,
steadying herself by bracing her
hands on the wall.
Emile was poking his fingers
through the customary holes
beneath the frills and his cheeks
were becoming pinker and pinker
as he ran his tongue over his lips.
For a moment he seemed to be
contemplating something, and
then oh my Lord. Eliza watched
him grip his swollen cock. In a
paroxysm of sheer delight, his
face a contortion of lust, he began
pumping his monstrous
appendage back and forth through
the aperture. How dare he? Eliza
felt furious that he could use her
clothes in such a manner, but as
she sunk back on the floor with
her legs spread, her loose ringlets
sticking wetly to her face, she felt
euphoric because she realised she
wanted him so much she could
almost feel that cock working in
and out of her. Instantly, her own
fingers began working in tune
with every frantic thrust. Emile
was a priapic God, and his cock,
well, that was perfect.
Eliza fantasised over an
exquisitely proportioned man who
would be able to fill her
completely, but shed never
thought she would actually meet
one in the flesh. Such heroes
surely belonged between the pages
of books. Gritting her teeth, she
aggressively circled her clitoris,
determined to fulfil her craving as
one orgasm after another wracked
her body. Ooh, she could
practically feel that thick organ
plundering her.
Emile had not finished
cavorting. Throwing a thickly
embroidered lace dress and blouse
onto the bed, he leapt on top of
them, moaning and rubbing his
body on the stiff lace and cool
satin, bows and ruffles, before
grabbing his cock every muscle
and sinew bulging and as tight as a
bow string. He jerked up his hips,
impaling her skirt through one of
the carefully placed openings.
Next, he grappled in a frenzy with
the knots and lace as he tried to
tear his grossly distended cock
loose of its cage, his body quaking
as, in wonderment, he ejaculated
so prodigiously he gave a cry like
a wounded animal. Even that
wasnt the end of it. He then began
writhing and crying like a wild
creature as, unable to stop his
damned outpouring, he gave in to
a pagan display of unadulterated
lust, biting his fist and bellowing
her name.
Eliza held her knuckles to her
mouth as, stimulated by the sight
of so much wanton lust and
Emiles heathen convulsions, her
body tensed and rose with him.
What to do? She sunk back
against the wall. If she confronted
him imminently, Emile might
never liberate himself again as
such strongly entrenched
fetishistic desires were a deeply
psychological complaint and
required the walking of a tightrope
if the situation was not to be made
any worse. She should know;
shed studied the philosophy of
sex intently enough. As angry as
she was, and as much as she
wanted to dash into that room and
whip him hard to teach him a
thing or two about true obedience
yes, tether that disobedient
organ in such stiff lace that he
screamed with the agony she
must bide her time and wait for
revenge.
After a while, Emile stretched
and, looking like the cat that got
the cream, stood up. She was
amazed to see his cock was
ramrod hard again and it appeared
he hadnt yet finished. He
wandered over to her trinket box
and took out the pair of tiny
ornamental scissors she used for
cutting her fine silk ribbon, lace,
and cottons. Her rage bubbled up
again. He was bending over and
turning her skirt inside out and
now what was he doing? Eliza
clapped her hands to her mouth.
He was snipping off a small length
of the fabric, granted a tiny piece,
but how dare he? Well, this
certainly changed things. Shed
make him pay for that.
Chapter Ten
Eliza. Eliza feigned sleep as
Emile rocked her gently by the
shoulder. Dressed in one of her
caftans, he was perched on the
edge of the couch holding a bunch
of roses hed cut from the garden,
their petals sparkling with
raindrops. Outside, thunder
rumbled and hardly a breath
disturbed the curtains.
Emile, how lovely. Eliza lazily
opened an eye. Shed have to be
careful to disguise her newfound
knowledge. What are those for?
Eliza darling, do I need a
reason? The expression on his
face might be termed newfound
confidence. And no wonder, Eliza
mused, the anger bubbling up
again.
I had a curious dream, she
said carefully. It makes me
consider a new direction, the fact I
ought to take a sterner hand with
you. After all, were in the midst
of an experiment and Im making
some interesting discoveries.
Already I see in you a budding
Casanova, and although I realise
youre an innocent, I dont think
you have an innocent soul in the
least. I think you wear the disguise
of a devil.
Emile smiled. I told you so. It
appears that Mama was right.
Eliza peered down at Emiles
cock. Having been subjected to the
torture of her clothing, it now
reared forward angrily through a
gap in the fabric.
If Im the devil youre a
wicked demoness with your frills
and bows, Eliza Pinch. For never
did a woman wear such naughty
clothing in such a delightful
manner. For instance, whats
this? Frowning, he lifted her skirt
up off the floor, poking his finger
through one of the holes. I see a
daring casket for my cock which
has been expertly disguised. Now,
what does this sterner hand entail?
Are you going to chain me or tie
me up, tighter and firmer than
before?
Yes, I shall, and thats only the
beginning. Youll submit to my
every wish if you want to be
cured. And the cures long
overdue.
Emile objected as, grabbing him
by the hand, Eliza led him
upstairs, but she wouldnt be
deterred. Going to her chest of
drawers, she tugged out her
scarves and ribbons, her mouth
watering. The possibilities were
almost too numerous to
contemplate but she had to start
somewhere. Taking a pair of her
finest stockings, she bound
Emiles wrists and ankles and tied
them to the bedposts. He could,
she thought with a toss of her
head, at least put up a fight.
I begin to think youre a fraud
of the meanest kind and you want
to procure carnal excitement.
What, me? Emile raised an
eyebrow teasingly.
Eliza had never tied a man up
and it gave her an immense thrill.
She ran her hand over his nipples
and flat belly, feeling his muscles
tense beneath her hand and that
impertinent cock jerk even more
fully to attention. She then tied
together lace and silk and satin
and made him a harness. Why, she
thought indulgently, as she slid the
contraption under his torso and
began nimbly fashioning knots
and nooses, she could spend ages
fiddling with his balls and cock, it
was so delicious.
Oh Emile, I do wish you
wouldnt look at me like that. I
wont have it. Eliza snatched her
velvet sleeping mask off her
bedside table and, before he could
object, snuggled it over his eyes.
Eliza, youre being far too
harsh. Whats come over you?
Eliza didnt think she was being
harsh at all. Her fingers were
amazingly steady as she continued
to fashion the harness. It wouldnt
be dissimilar to her own except
Eliza attached more lace to the
strips around his groin so she
could slide a satin ribbon under
his balls and neatly truss them up
so they pouted cheekily. Then she
turned her attention to his cock,
wrapping it in ribbons, but this
time fastening it with slipknots all
the way up so she could tighten
and release them at will. The key
to Emile was lace and satin, ruffles
and silks, but also, as she now
knew, pain. She couldnt resist a
tweak of a ribbon which
effectively squeezed the head of
Emiles cock, eliciting a groan.
Finally Eliza laid out more
fripperies and, one by one, trailed
them over Emiles distended
organ. You must guess what each
one is, she commanded, dangling
a fragment of lace so it just
touched his tip.
Thats easy, you torturer. Id
know the touch of lace anywhere.
And whats this one? Eliza
naughtily darted out her tongue,
flicking the bulbous head and
bestowing on it a quick kiss.
I dont know. However,
whatever it is, I like the feel of it.
Eliza smirked triumphantly,
wondering what she could do next
to torture him. So, its not simply
lace and satin you like the feel of,
is it? She loosened the bottom
ribbon, stroking the pole with her
tongue and mouth and flicking his
balls with naughty little jabs of her
tongue. Next, she straddled
Emiles hips. Lifting her skirt, she
stroked it back and forth before
raising herself up and, opening
her slick lips, lowering herself
slowly down, sliding his length
inside her. The erotic fall-out from
Elizas caresses was almost too
much for Emile as she bobbed up
and down and back and forth,
rubbing the ribbon-encrusted cock
over all her sensitive places.
Thats certainly not lace but
whatever it is, its sublime. Is it
the softest satin, the slickest silk?
Eliza bent forward so her breath
feathered his cheek. No, my dear.
Thats my cunt. Enough, she
thought, too much indulgence in
one sitting isnt good. Besides, if
Emile wants more of my torture,
hell have to confess his dirtiest
fantasies.
She continued to hold his cock
to her clit for a while, pressing
down as her legs began to quiver
and her insides were gripped with
such a massive convulsion it was
as much as she could do not to
faint. When she next looked at
Emiles cock it was angry and
swollen and the tip was now
temptingly slick, the little eye
blinking. Eliza untied him, and
when she took off the mask she
gently kissed his lips.
Emile was flushed and his eyes
glistened with lust. I dont know
if I liked that game or not.
Well, I did, and it was
necessary if we are to find a
solution to such an irritating
problem. I hope youll learn to be
more obedient, Emile. Im your
instructress, arent I?
She must teach him more
obedience, Eliza thought as she
strode about her bedroom later
that night, inflamed by her new
games of passion. Emile required
a very firm hand to keep his
ardour in check and she was
determined to give that to him. As
for herself well, that was
another matter, for it seemed she
might also need to exert more
control there too.
That night, she fashioned a new
device of torture. Taking a broad
piece of lace, she cut a tiny hole
with her nail scissors, just wide
enough for the tip of his penis.
She then sewed this to the two
pieces of lace shed wear around
the top of her legs and which
fastened to the lace on her satin
ribbon girdle. This she
embellished with bows and frills
so that when she manoeuvred
Emiles cock towards her quim the
fabric would tease and tickle, thus
further inflaming his passion. Ill
liberate you, Emile, but only at the
exact time I want to. Ill also coax
an admission of guilt out of you,
because youll not admit to your
shenanigans with my clothes.
Over the coming days Eliza
spent a long time torturing Emile
and even thrashing him with the
lace whip shed made, but still she
couldnt force an admission.
Shed ascertained he was playing a
game with her because it seemed
he liked being bound and tortured
far too much. Furthermore, she
continued to find her clothes
moved around, so the naughty
dog was still playing with her
private wardrobe. Secretly, Eliza
was seething with anger and
unrequited passion, so much so
that, late one night, she took every
one of her garments out of her
closet and, in a fit of passion,
sprawled and writhed amongst the
clothes Emile had touched.
Chapter Eleven
You evil man. How dare you
disport yourself in such a fashion
by fornicating on my ruffles and
frills? It was no good. Eliza
couldnt bear it any longer. She
smoothed the fine silk bodice of
her gown, turning away from the
window where shed been
contemplating the garden. And
theres no point saying you
havent been, because I caught
you red-handed.
But Eliza. Emile, who had
been sitting on the parlour couch,
jumped to his feet, grabbing her
about the waist. I was going to
tell you. First of all, though, I
needed to refine my little
experiment. You see, I had to be
sure.
Eliza turned her back on him.
Sure of what? It wouldnt have
been so bad if youd have owned
up. You can leave, Emile. Ive
been thinking about it and now
our relationships just impossible.
She could tell by his look of
disbelief Emile thought she was
joking. She also knew she
sounded childish. However, the
simple fact was Eliza had come to
an important conclusion. Emile
was driving her wild with lust and
love yes love and she simply
couldnt bear seeing him any
more, especially since he was
obviously storing up his sexual
favours for Penelope Carter.
There was nothing for it; a clean
break was necessary before she
became too emotionally entangled.
Eliza, this is so unlike you.
Youre generally so reasonable. I
happen to think youre reacting a
little too strongly. You realise Im
inordinately fond of you, dont
you? Emile, who had evidently
believed this was some kind of
joke at first, was stroking his chin
thoughtfully. I know what this is.
This is part of our game and
youve designed this
confrontation. I dont deny we
may have drifted into deeper
water than we ought to have, but
what danger is there? If its
scandal youre worried about,
why, Aunt Katia promised shed
stamp out any gossip.
Eliza could sense her anger
rising again. Emile was not about
to take this lying down. Instead,
he was going to try and approach
it with a reasoned argument. For
goodness sake, he said, youve
been looking for an excuse to
break our arrangement for ages.
It was true, she knew it was.
Hed been especially distracted the
last few days. The simple fact was
Emile had learnt the secret of his
liberation and he now wanted to
dispense with her. Yes, a simple
fetish had cured him and now he
wanted to go off and seduce the
glorious Penelope in her
ridiculous costumes.
Emile sighed. Im so bad at
explaining myself. I always make
an ass of it.
Please leave it, Emile. I dont
want you to call ever again. It was
a terrible mistake my ever thinking
I could instruct an innocent boy
well, maybe not such an innocent
boy. Sooner or later, and the
moment youd found the key to
your lusts, youd have left
anyway.
She was surprised when Emile,
whod gone very pale, shook back
his long hair and, fixing her with
his devilish gaze, said slowly but
determinedly, Well, Eliza, if thats
what you truly wish, Ill respect
you. I think I ought to leave
before I say something I might
regret.
Eliza was surprised when Katia
Tsarevs carriage drew up outside,
and she rang the bell. Eliza was
not so childish as to hide and she
answered the door with her chin
lifted, although she knew she
looked terrible. The truth was she
missed Emile terribly.
My dear girl. Katia stared at
her closely. Youve been crying,
havent you?
Eliza sniffed into her
handkerchief as she led Katia into
the parlour. Emiles aunt fluffed
out her skirts and sat down. Now,
whats this childish nonsense?
And dont lie to me, my girl.
Emiles like a lovelorn cow one
moment and a raging idiot the
next. You wrought wonders in
him, Eliza. He was a changed boy.
He had so much confidence he
was even talking about marriage
and calling on Miss Penelope.
However, last week he came home
terribly upset and since then Ive
never seen a boy so distracted.
Penelope. Eliza tried to mask
her misery as her heart contracted
painfully. How lovely for him,
and much the best choice.
Katia gave a snort of laughter.
Is that what you think? Well,
nonsense! Penelope isnt the
woman for him and Ive told him
so. Shell bore Emile half to death.
He requires a woman with more
spit and bite to her; indeed, a
pinch of spice. Besides which hes
far too young to even consider
marriage. Emile needs to see the
world before he tethers himself to
a wife, and to that end Ive already
suggested a grand tour.
Katia got up. Coming over, she
sat down beside Eliza, covering
her hand with her own. You like
him well, dont you, Eliza?
I like him very well.
And yet Emile and you seem to
have had a difference of opinion?
Yes, you could say that.
Such is the way of lovers. But
one must see past it.
Katia, were not in the least
lovers, Eliza said sharply. How
could you think a thing like that?
Katia shrugged theatrically.
Whatever the nature of your
relationship, its the measure of
affection to cause vortices of
anger and constant disagreement,
but these things are nearly always
resolved.
Eliza wet her lips; she felt like
she was about to burst into tears
again.
Emile never stops talking about
amazing Eliza. Pray, dear, will you
continue with your instruction?
Last night he came to me and he
wouldnt eat a bite. He thought he
was doing the right thing when he
left, but now he regrets it and he
begged me to talk to you since
apparently he has written and
youve returned all his notes
unopened. Please, my dear,
whatever it is thats upset you
and Im sure its nothing but a
small peccadillo you can forgive
him and see past it. You see, this
little disagreement will set him
back deplorably. If I were to say
to Emile he must come to you and
apologise for whatever it is that
caused exception, isnt there just a
slim possibility you might both
take up where you left off?
Eliza sniffed; her heart was
palpating strangely. There might
be just a tiny chance of it, yes,
Katia.
Chapter Twelve
What a pretty mess. I never
imagined my little outrage would
cause such a tantrum, Emile
stated, coming into the parlour
and sitting on the couch with his
hands between his knees. Eliza
wondered why she didnt send
him away; she ought to, since he
addled her mind. But the moment
she saw him her heart beat louder
and she was half-crazed with
excitement. He looked
heartrendingly seductive today in
a black shirt with opulent lace
ruffles down the front and
sleeves, and his striking
embroidered frockcoat and silk
cravat.
Come here, Eliza. Before she
had a chance to object, he grabbed
her, pulling her down onto his lap
where Eliza wriggled her buttocks
as her new lace contraption bit
between her legs. Darling, you
must let me try and explain. I
know I was very naughty indeed,
seducing your clothes like that,
and I admit I have a weakness or
two, but I promise Id have soon
confessed. Truthfully, I didnt
expect such a reaction from a
fiercely independent woman. I
thought the worst youd do was
reprimand me, for Im still aware I
require more punishment.
Eliza peered down on his raven
black hair. His lips were very
close to her breast. Today she
wore a daringly provocative corset
with gauze inlay showing the dark
shadows of her prominent nipples
which Emile was now drawing
around with his finger.
Im so dreadfully sorry, Eliza.
And you ought to be, she said
in mock anger. Theres no use
denying it. You have no more
need of me. Go on she made a
gesture with her hand run along
to Penelope and leave me alone.
Eliza, I havent finished.
Youre so stubborn; why wont
you listen to me? Emile circled
her tightly with his arms so she
couldnt wriggle away.
Squeezed against him, Eliza
could feel every inch of him,
including his rock hard cock.
And what about me, you little
pervert? You were spying on me;
dont you think I should be angry
about that? And you took
advantage of me, by propagating
the charade long after you knew
you were cured. Oh fiddlesticks,
the faults all mine. I should have
exercised more discipline in the
beginning.
Wouldnt it simply be easier if
we called this game a stalemate?
We ought to wipe the slate clean
and start again. You see the faults
yours as well as mine.
Hah, Eliza snorted. How do
you arrive at that?
I fell in love with you the
moment I laid eyes on you. Yes,
its true, Eliza. The first time I saw
you, you were trying on a hat in
the milliners and you stirred
something in me. His gaze
roamed over her face. I followed
you on several occasions, driven
crazy by your fingering of buttons
and bows. Then I got to thinking
how could I make one of my
fantasies come true? How could I
make the incredible Eliza Pinch
fall in love with me? This resulted
in me conniving with Katia to
arrange a meeting, my problem the
perfect excuse. Youre to blame in
that you imprisoned me, binding
me with your fetishes more
securely than chains.
Poppycock, Eliza berated,
punching his shoulder with her
fists. Let me go.
Its true, and this time Ill force
you to listen to me. You know
youre too domineering for your
own good, my sweet.
Eliza moaned as, raising her
fingers to his lips, he kissed them.
She realised she was a fine one to
talk because she too had slipped
under Emiles spell without even
realising what was happening.
And what about Penelope?
Apparently you were lusting after
her in the park with your tongue
hanging out. I cant help but think
the object of the charade was to
educate yourself in sex for the
delectable minx.
Emile shook his head. Ah,
Penelope. Sadly, I could never
love her. Penelopes too cold and
has none of your fire or zest. It
was purely her clothes which
caught my attention, and you must
admit shes a sight for sore eyes in
all her sumptuous velvets and
embroidery.
Eliza raised an eyebrow. If you
say so.
Youre not the only one to
experiment, Eliza, for my own
experiments have been going on
for quite some time and Ive come
to an interesting conclusion.
His hand was sneaking up the
inside of her thighs and for once
Eliza wanted it to touch the lace
harness.
You see, Ive discovered its
not the woman or the clothes
alone which create the effect. Its
the way the clothes and Eliza fit
uniquely together, to present me
with a conundrum. Its the way
they mould to your rounded body
with its irresistible crevices,
making it impossible for my fetish
to be replicated on anyone else.
Yes, the clothes and Eliza create a
fascinating combination which
cannot be repeated.
And what of my skirt, you cad?
You snipped off a good square of
fabric.
Yes, I did. I required a
souvenir to put under my pillow at
night and carry with me to remind
me of you. But not simply any
souvenir, I wanted the side of the
skirt which rubs your crotch.
Eliza wriggled but she was
locked so firmly in Emiles
muscular arms she couldnt move.
Bunching up her skirt, he began to
unfasten her shoes and unclip her
stockings. Then he slipped open a
ribbon on her bodice and gently
pinched her nipple between his
thumb and forefinger, rolling it
back and forth. Let me tell you
another secret. The other day I
visited Penelope and stole a
ribbon from her hair. I wound it
around my cock. However, for the
first time, my cock lost its stance.
Youre lying to me. Nothing
stops that rigid poker from
standing to attention.
This did. And, whats more, no
coercion would make it rise
again.
Elizas chest rose and fell and
her breathing quickened as
Emiles deft fingers slithered
under her skirt, stroking her belly
as they moved towards the soft
tuft between her legs.
Let me show you something.
Emile let her go, then, jerking
open the buttons on his fly, he
lifted out his penis. Eliza stared
spellbound; it was the first time
she hadnt seen it as rigid as a
poker. This is whats happened
since Penelopes ribbon. It fails to
respond even though Ive kept her
gewgaw wound tightly around it.
Unfastening a ribbon from Elizas
hair, he held it up, flicking it out
with a flourish. Et voil, work
your magic, Eliza. Already he was
unwinding Penelopes ribbon and
replacing it with her own.
Eliza watched in amazement as
the recalcitrant organ twitched and
strengthened. It was too much
and, without further ado, she
grabbed the swelling shaft.
Pushing his hands out of the way,
she wound the ribbon more
securely, bending down to kiss his
tip as she did so.
I think this scenario would be
much better acted out in my
bedroom, Emile.
Now, what would be the most
fitting punishment?
Eliza tied Emile to the bed with
her stockings and, straddling his
chest, she bent down and kissed
his lips, carefully arranging the
frills and bows at her cuffs and
around her dcolletage. Was I
mistaken or did I hear you
insinuate that you loved me,
Emile?
Yes, you did.
Im not entirely convinced of
love. For me to love, my lover
would have to be very
subservient.
Emile licked his lips; his cock
was as rigid as a poker. Ive been
exceedingly disobedient, sweet
Eliza, make me subservient.
Eliza wriggled forward slowly,
hitching up her skirt to offer Emile
a flash of her thighs and, finally,
her plump little mound with its
bespoke harness.
Emiles eyes glistened. Whats
that? He peered at the wide piece
of lace with the hole. Oh Eliza, let
me touch it with my tongue.
Leaning down, she feathered his
lips with her own. Youre not the
only one to enjoy a game, Emile,
since Ive been tying and torturing
myself for years.
Emile groaned. You see, I
knew it. I knew just how perfect
Eliza Pinch would be. Were the
same.
Emile feasted on the sight of her
liqueous, seeping folds, as she
slithered up his body to position
herself over his mouth. She
guided herself right towards the
target of his tongue as Emile
homed in on her quivering bud,
made swollen and raw by the
button and lace.
Why, the lips are so plump and
soft and the little stem with its tiny
serpents head is a marvel in that it
mirrors the cock. Let me rub my
tongue against it. He was
clutching the bedposts in a
paroxysm of excitement as his
tongue darted out and Emile
sucked the small, throbbing bud
into his mouth. It seemed that,
once departed from his sheltered
port, he was now ready to set sail
on the high seas of seduction.
Approaching her neat nest of
pubic hair, he waggled his tongue
coaxingly back and forth, sliding it
in her slit and rotating it slowly
and deliciously.
Eliza gasped, pressing her hand
to her mouth to muffle her moans
of pleasure. She could feel his
warm breath feathering her pubis
as his tongue, which was as agile
as his fingers, stroked and sucked
her into a crescendo of shivering
passion. She tensed her buttocks
as the first glorious orgasm
rippled through her, before Eliza
punched her hips forward to be
rewarded by an even fiercer suck
which drew her to the heights of
thrashing passion.
Emile next plunged his nose
under the ruffles and furbelows
and smelt her, lapping at her like a
kitten. Twisting the lace between
her legs, Eliza abandoned herself
as she tugged it tightly into her
most sensitive places and Emiles
tongue continued to bear down on
clit and button.
When shed satiated herself
enough she jumped off the bed
and, fetching the lengths of lace
and buttons she had sewn together
into a whip, she stood on the bed
and struck Emile gently. First on
his tender nipples and then his
belly and cock before brushing his
chest with her long lace sleeves
and kissing her way up the tightly
bound pole.
What do you think? she
quavered, teasing a ribbon here
and a bow there and showing
Emile the little hole in the lace
between her legs. Already she was
hooking her finger into it to pull it
up and out of her slit. Im afraid I
must be harsh to provoke a cure,
Emile. She leant back, offering
Emile a wonderful, uninhibited
view of her glossy triangle and
engorged clit, which, momentarily
free of button and lace, peeked at
him cheekily. Eliza tugged first on
one bow and the next, the skirt
cunningly parting like a curtain
either side of her sex.
Emile squirmed; he knew what
she was about to do as the first
piece of twisted satin bow
caressed his encased cock and
then his tip grazed the tantalizing
lace hole. Eliza kissed him, kissed
him like shed imagined kissing
him, and Emile surrendered,
allowing her to chase his tongue
and touch his mouth all over.
Holding the edges of the skirt
apart and drawing them closed
just enough they were a soft
embrace on his belly and balls,
she slowly lowered herself
towards the object of her desires.
Its so tight, Emile whined, as
his tip insinuated itself into the
lace hole and he touched the
fringes of her womanhood. Eliza
was stroking the pole with her
satin and lace frills as she gently
bobbed up and down, building
some friction. As she came down
harder she heard the lace tear a
little and a dirty smile curved her
lips. Emiles cock was so bold it
was bound to force an entry, and
how wonderful it felt. She
clenched her thigh muscles around
the juicy invader, enjoying the slip
and slide of the wet nub followed
by the abrasive rub of the ribbon.
Eliza slid her finger under the
lace and button, forcing her sex
lips closer to his moving cock by
doing so. The sensation was
delightful. Emile, however, was
not about to be outdone and,
suddenly, he punched his hips up
with as much force as he could
muster. This had the effect of
tearing the lace and his entire
length impaled Eliza, who froze in
mid-thrust, a look of rapture on
her face. Such an entry could have
been considered a little painful if it
was also not so incredibly
satisfying. Panting like a dog,
Emile pistoned up as Eliza bore
down.
Eventually, Eliza sank down
onto the warm cushion of his balls
with a gasp, her body vibrating
and convulsing as she leant
forward, and Emile, with a cry
like a wounded animal, at long last
erupted. The warm rush was
incredible, and as Eliza kissed him
once more and loosened the
ribbon and stockings she was still
suffering aftershocks.
Now, whats to be done?
Because I think I can safely say
youre liberated, Emile.
Emile held her close against his
fevered skin, stroking her hair and
kissing her wet lips. Eliza, I can
assure you Ill need many more
pinches of your spice and a
sufficient number of experiments
to effect a total cure. Pushing up
her skirts, he smoothed his hands
over her warm flesh, sliding his
finger under her lace harness.
Yes, itll require a little bit of this
and a little bit of that to be sure
Im cured once and for all.
And he kissed her again.
Have you read A Pinch of
Snuff by Alcamia Payne?
Please review me thank you!
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