Chapter 6

The cherry-red, shining eye of the young cunt slowly dropped toward his mouth. As the girl squatted, then bent her knees deeper, the folds of sex flesh stretched and parted. A scant distance above his lips, she paused. She nuzzled his nose with a puff of fair pubic hair. He extended his tongue and craned his neck upward, but she pulled back slightly and retained the tantalizing distance. By straining against his bonds and stretching his neck and tongue to the limit, he could just touch the heated, damply scented lips.

He tried to mumble with his tongue out and beg her to come closer. Yet she continued to dance over him and toy with him. For an instant, she would lower herself just enough to enable him to get a taste of her clean juices. Then she would lift up and leave his tongue waggling in the air. It was beyond a tease; it was a torture.

He wanted to please her and, in so doing, please the madame. The whole of his body ached--not only his neck and jaw but his limbs, too, as they pulled against the tight straps. And, of course, his cock. That was the greatest ache of all. He had never been tormented like this adolescent, perverted bitch was toying with him. A tight pain welled up in his throat. He suddenly felt like screaming. But instead, he moaned, a plaintive moan that echoed into the sex cavity above him. It was only then that Hope grasped his head with her hands and shoved her soaking cunt hard against his mouth.

Hudson licked and ate and sucked and groveled like he never had before. Only one imprint was burned in his brain. That was to mouth the girl with passion abnormal. His tongue was a blur, his lips a frenzy, his head a jerking, twitching thing between her flesh thighs. His face was slick and he could feel her steaming juices running down his neck and cheeks, even to his ears.

Britt Martel watched his furious cunt-licking with a triumphant leer. Yes, it had worked out far better than she had dreamed. She had not believed his stupidity. Unless, as she already partly suspected, he had fucked Hope in her absence, unconsciously wanting to be caught and grossly used as punishment. Well, that he would be. The hour was late but the night was young. She saw that his cock--huge, she had to admit--was twitching uncontrollably. That was good; it was good that he could be so virile while being humiliated. However, she didn't want him to ejaculate. Her plan was to keep his balls yearning for as long as possible. She knew the day would come, perhaps sooner than expected, when all she would have to do was kiss that erect, thick penis with the stinging tip of a whip and he would erupt like Mount Vesuvius. But that would come later. Tonight there would be no whips. Humiliation was the better start. There were many ways--one or two of which he was already ripe for. She signaled Hope.

Trembling, the girl lifted herself off Hudson's face. She had no big orgasms left in her, but the teacher's mouth had triggered so many tiny climaxes that she had lost track. God, she owed so much to the madame for allowing her this pleasure. She would even suck the man's cock if it were requested. She soon saw, though, that the madame had other ideas.

When Hope's cunt had been taken away from him, Hudson had collapsed. His head lolled back in exhaustion; his tongue and mouth were raw. He gasped and panted for breath. For a minute or so, he did not know how long, he had blacked out.

He awoke to the sharp pressure on his chest. His eyes swam in their sockets until they focused on the madame's bizarre boot planted squarely on him. His stare followed the leather up the leg. She stood near his head, one foot on the floor and the other on him. He stared past her puckered cunt and the mountainous tits to the evil grin on her face. He knew what she wanted; she was going to demand that he eat her cunt. God, he wanted to! There was nothing he craved more. But he couldn't, the girl had been too much. It was at that moment he saw the coiled quirt in her hand.

"No, no, not that!" he cried weakly. "Don't whip me ... you promised!"

"Don't be absurd," the madame sneered. "I promised nothing. Except earlier, I did promise to make you come, didn't I? All right, I think we'll attend to that."

The madame moved her booted foot up Hudson's chest. She lifted the sole and pushed the heel slightly into his chest. When he winced, she asked, "Do you like my boots?" He nodded. She jabbed the heel into him again. "Say it!"

"Yes, yes. I love your boots!"

"Good. Then you can fuck them!"

She put her foot down and stepped aside. "Hope, release Mr. Hudson."

When the straps were loose, Hudson slipped off the ottoman and onto the floor. His arms and legs were totally numb. The only part of his anatomy that had any circulation was his still-rigid, burgeoning erection. He managed to pull himself to his hands and knees, and he shook his head to ease the strain on his neck and shoulders.

"Don't get up!" the madame ordered. "You're going to be a nice stud horse. Hope, get on the horse and ride him over here . . . fast!"

Before Hudson could twitch, the girl had jumped on his back. She straddled him, pressing her still damp cunt into his skin. Her nyloned legs were around his waist and she wedged her heels up toward his groin. With one hand, she held his hair and pulled his head back. With the other, she slapped his ass a stinging blow.

"Run, horse, run!" she cried. She kept slapping his ass to urge him forward.

Finally, his numbed muscles responded. He crawled awkwardly under the weight, crawled toward the sofa where the madame sat casually smoking a cigarette and sipping more sherry.

Just as he reached her, she said, "That wasn't very good riding, child. Take the horse around the room again. If he doesn't go fast enough this time, there's a riding crop you can use to improve the performance."

Hudson lurched forward, laboring mightily, cursing Martel, the girl, himself, but nevertheless obeying and straining to obey well. He rounded the room under the stinging slaps and came to a halt breathlessly before the madame.

"Much better. This is a horse that shows promise. All right, child, you may dismount. Horses and leather go together, you know, so that's what we're going to do right now. Come closer, Mr. Hudson. That's right, on your knees. Now straighten out. Now put your hands behind your back. Hope, get the restraints and secure each of his wrists to his ankles."

The girl complied. In a minute, Hudson was bound again. This time, he was kneeling upright and facing the madame, who still lounged on the sofa.

She extended a booted foot forward and slid a sharp pointed toe underneath his balls: Hudson squirmed. She kicked her foot sharply, nearly wedging the boot toe into his asshole. "Don't move if you know what's good for you," she threatened. "And don't look so agonized. After all, you were the one who wanted this."

Hudson had no protest left. Nor would he have cared to when she extended her other booted foot and pressed the leather sole against his cock, pressing it back against his belly. God, yes! Just to have it touch something! The smooth, cool sole was like a balm to his burning prick. She moved her foot and increased the pressure. He moaned his gratification. But it was short-lived.

The madame dug the narrow, spiked heel into the base of his cock just above his balls. Hudson gasped and his eyes popped. The pain was sharp. "No, don't!" he whimpered. He might have been' pleading with a wall. She pushed the other foot up more deeply near his anus. The heel near his cock ground again. The sole flattened the penile head. The sole felt good, but the heel and toe were like sharp instruments gouging at his most sensitive flesh. Pain and relief were striking him alternately. One second she hurt him, the next she massaged him. Alternately, he would groan in pleasure or gasp from pain. And it was all happening at such a concentrated area. In a matter of minutes he was soaked with sweat. His eyes were clenched, his entire body screamed for freedom.

Suddenly, he realized that he could no longer distinguish the pain from the pleasure. They were one! His entire crotch was a fiery agony, but it. . . yes, yes, it felt good! Good!! He came A geyser of white-hot cum spurted a foot into the air. More and more gushed and spilled. Hudson sagged under the blow of pleasure from within. He swayed on his knees. All he wanted was blessed oblivion, the fadeout of ecstasy. His failing consciousness started to take him down, down, down .. .

His neck snapped violently! His eyes fluttered open, and he saw Britt Martel's cruelly distorted face close to his. She had hold of his hair and was pulling his head up. "You're not through yet, cocksucker!" she screamed shrilly. "Look at my boots!" She pushed him down so that he was staring at gobs of cum strung out on the black leather. "Lick it up!" She forced his head lower.

His mind convoluted, and he saw clearly the scene that had been played many months before--when he had splattered his ejaculation on the huge tits of Miss Carter, the librarian. And she had licked and sucked his cum. A full circle, he thought weakly. Without a whimper, he put his lips and tongue to the shiny, soiled leather and licked up his own sticky juices.

When he had cleaned the boots to her satisfaction, he was untied and ordered to dress. A black seed in his brain prompted him to plea feebly for permission to remain. The madame only laughed scornfully. "Look at you! What could you do? How could you possibly please anyone?"

"I could try," he whispered. "Do as you're told and you may get a second chance," she said haughtily. "Right now I'm going to give Hope a little whipping as the reward for being such a helpful girl this evening. Good night, Mr. Hudson. Sleep well."

He staggered down the long hall to his own quarters and fell on the bed unable to remove his clothes. He had been to hell and back. Yet, the only thought in his mind was that he had to see the madame again as soon as possible.