The Return of Lady Honoria Page 3

  The servant crouched beside them and parted Honoria’s folds with his fingers, licking her as the coachman pounded her ass. His tongue was long and agile, and wiggled about with such enthusiasm that she couldn’t stay still, jerking about in a most undignified way.

  She could feel her labia swelling. Then the servant grabbed her around the hips, tongue thrusting and circling. His lips worked her willing flesh and abruptly grabbed her clit, sucking the shy bit of flesh into his mouth.

  Honoria screamed, hips jerking.

  The coachman locked his hands on her hips and rode it out, buried to the balls in her depths as she moaned and wailed, hands clenched on the soft velvet upholstery.

  “I’m gonna cum,” he muttered, still holding on to her. “Stop licking her, you little bugger.”

  The servant abruptly stopped and pulled back enough to fasten his lips over the swelling base of the coachman’s cock as the man poured hot cum into Honoria’s ass. He yelled, and abruptly fell back, arms flailing.

  The servant followed him down, holding him when he would have moved. His lips closed over the man’s still rigid cock and milked him dry while the man cried out, both hands knotted in the smaller man’s hair.

  “Damn that was good,” the coachman said finally. “Just…don’t it again.”

  The small man sat up, his cock pointing straight up. “Next time you want a hand, you know where to find me.”

  The coachman shook his head and buttoned up his pants. The coach started a minute later.

  Honoria shivered, legs totally limp. Her ass felt hot and sticky, and her legs didn’t want to move. She felt lost and desperately uncomfortable.

  The little man watched her for a second. “You’re not satisfied,” he said.

  Her quick, furtive glance was enough to put him on his knees. Because of his height, his face was equal with her crotch. He thrust all five fingers into her still gaping ass as he licked her clit into his mouth, sucking hard.

  Honoria twitched. “Oh my God!”

  Without warning, her ass clenched down and her breathing caught as she was torn by wave after wave of pulsating pleasure. She came back to herself to find his fingers still pummeling her rear passage and her legs kicking weakly.

  He pulled his fingers from her with a wet slurp and studied her thoughtfully. Her flesh throbbed from head to toes and she was sure her breasts were bruised. She looked down over her chest to see her nipples looking red and painfully tight.

  The little man pulled a small chest from beneath his seat and proceeded to clean her. The feeling was oddly luxurious. Even Daisy didn’t go so far.

  Convinced she was as perfect as he could make her, the little man sat back on his haunches. “You’re beautiful, m’lady.”

  The compliment was heady, when Honoria knew she was nothing of the sort. She gave him an awkward smile. “Thank you.”

  He smiled back, and offered his hand to pull her into an upright position. “Not much longer now.”

  The carriage turned down a long drive. Light flared in the distance, growing brighter as they passed stands of big, carefully groomed trees. Banks of fragrant roses gave way to a neatly trimmed lawn centered by an enormous marble fountain. It was obvious the Duc de Ganelon’s family hadn’t lost its wealth and more than obvious they had a taste for ostentatious display. The carriage pulled up to enormous bronze doors and stopped with a rattle of harness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Petit maitresse,” he whispered.

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

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

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

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

  “The corset is very special.”

  “Y-you drugged me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “A special servant. I call him Goliath.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Down,” she repeated.

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

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

  Goliath dropped to his knees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “She’s mine.”

  “According to the servants—”

  “The servants lie.”

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

  “Such a pretty little piece,” said Michel.

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

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

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

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

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

  Danton stood very still, eyes heavy-lidded.

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

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

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

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

  Michel shivered, but didn’t stop.

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

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

  “Release the girl.”

  “She’s yours!”

  “And the man?”

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

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

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

  “Can you walk?” Danton spared her a quick look.

  Honoria bit her lip uncertainly. “Yes.”

  “Wait for me near the door.”

  Something clanged at the far end of the room, but Honoria couldn’t focus. It was the corset, it had to be the corset—she had to get it off! She staggered to her feet and leaned against the wall, fumbling at the luxurious white leather with hands that didn’t want to work.

  A hand clamped over her arm and abruptly pulled her to the door. “Wait until we’re in the carriage. You won’t get it off that way.”

  The halls were a kaleidoscope of staring eyes and doorways. Honoria stumbled beside Danton, dragged by his implacable grip.

  After the manor’s smoky golden light moonlight was a shock to her system. Danton threw her up into his carriage and pushed Goliath in after her.

  “Stay down,” he said urgently.