Fun And Fornication Ch 06

I have had doubts about whether this fits with the other parts I have uploaded in this series, hence the delay in uploading. Please feel free to comment either way and let me know what you think...

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Katherine lay in the dark, uncertain as to how long she had been there. She was not even sure if it was still daylight beyond the blindfold, so cunningly had Mr Blackwood fastened the cloth to her eyes. Left for so long to herself, she thought back to the earlier events which had led to her captivity.

It would be dishonest to suggest that her visit to Mr Blackwood's home had started with honourable intentions. After all, their tumultuous acquaintance had long since given up, at least in private, any claims of propriety. Her current predicament, however, was wholly unexpected, at least to Katherine, for Mr Blackwood it may be presumed had not acted entirely without forethought.

Katherine had arrived shortly after noon, slipping unannounced through a side door in a vain effort to surprise Mr Blackwood. Whether he had anticipated her arrival, or whether he was in constant readiness was beyond Katherine's knowledge, but as she entered the large hallway of Morton Hall, she saw through the open library door Mr Blackwood calmly set down his book and rise. He smiled knowingly and walked towards her, his hands casually sat in the pockets of his jacket.

Kissing her passionately, his lips burned onto hers and she barely noticed as his hands gripped her wrists and forced her arms behind her back. It was only later that she realised why his hands had been in his pockets, but it was now that the cord he had retrieved from them bound her wrists together behind her back, the hard fibres cutting into her tender flesh. Her soft cry, blending pain and desire, melted into her lover's mouth and she felt the familiar warmth spreading from her loins through her entire body.

Her desires were to remain unsatisfied, at least for the moment, for after securely binding her eyes with a cool, smooth length of silk Mr Blackwood lifted Katherine and picked her up, carrying her to another room. Here, she felt herself laid onto a hard surface, a table where she lay awkwardly on her pinioned arms for just a moment before she felt the coldness of a knife blade slide between her wrists, giving them the illusion of freedom. It was but a second's passing though, before each arm was again secured, this time separately fastened over her head, stretched towards whatever solid object Mr Blackwood had chosen to hold her in place.

She shivered with anticipation and desire as a warm hand grasped her ankle and began to make its way higher, sliding under her dress towards an already wet, throbbing welcome at the summit of her thighs. But the hand was to disappoint her as it reached no higher than her knee before retracing its path to her ankle which soon had its own noose fastened around it, stretching it out to one side.

Shortly her other leg suffered the same fate, and Katherine found herself in a most undignified position, stretched on what she could only assume was the dining table, her arms helpless above her head and her legs forcibly spread, exposing her to any attack Mr Blackwood might choose to inflict on her. She felt the blood coursing through her body, her body which longed for his touch, yearned for his passionate attack.

She pressed her head against the table trying to dislodge the blindfold enough to see what her amorous assailant would subject her to next, but to no avail, his skill in tying it being superior to her efforts. She had not long to wait, though before she felt cold metal against her cheek. It was a knife blade, perhaps the very same that had briefly freed her now recaptured hands. Her breath caught in her throat. The awareness of the sharp edge was more chilling than the coolness of the blade itself; after all, despite their fervent exchanges she had only been acquainted with Mr Blackwood for a short time. Little in their exchanges suggested a man to be trusted not to overstep the boundaries of decency and honourable behaviour.

The knife slid down her cheek and she felt the sharp tip scratch softly but threateningly down her throat, pressing just hard enough to be felt, but not hard enough to draw blood. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she felt it pause for a second just where her pulse was pounding through her smooth skin.

As the steel continued down into the valley between her breasts, she felt a hand grasp the neckline of her dress, immediately followed by the scratching sound of the knife cutting through the fabric, exposing her delicious body to his amorous gaze. Although the knife continued cutting from the neck all the way down to her feet, not once did Katherine feel the touch of his hand on her eager flesh, the touch her inflamed body was so ready for.

Once her body was fully exposed, Katherine was sure that Mr Blackwood would ravish her. She could feel the wetness seeping out of her tight cleft and she was sure he would not be able to resist such an invitation. Her wait was not yet over, however, as Mr Blackwood showed his intentions of completely exposing her body by slitting open the sleeves of her dress, still without laying so much as a finger upon her.

After cutting open her dress, Mr Blackwood had pulled the ruined fabric from under her now feverish body, leaving nothing between it and the wooden tabletop. The sweat from her ripe behind glued her to the smooth surface but any discomfort was drowned beneath the desire to be taken by Mr Blackwood's sumptuous member.

It is impossible to describe the disappointment Katherine had felt when she heard Mr Blackwood's footsteps receding, leaving her alone, aroused and unable even to stimulate herself to the release her body craved.

This was the situation in which Katherine now found herself. She was no less inflamed than when Mr Blackwood had left her an unknown time ago. From time to time she had heard footsteps of someone approaching and she had hoped each time that this approach would herald some activity which might allow her climax, but each time she was disappointed. Sometimes the footsteps would approach and there would merely be a pause, as if she was being scrutinised, before more footsteps receding would signal the start of a further wait. A few times she felt a light hand brush her skin, the delicate inner thigh, the curve of a breast and her heart would leap, her nipples instantly harden into tight peaks as her body smouldered, and she could feel the seeping from her swollen hole increase to what felt like a flood. But the touch would go no further, leaving her ravenous as ever. Once she felt hot breath on her thigh, rising up to tease the source of her frustration, but as she arched her back to try to force some contact, even this ephemeral union was lost and once more the footsteps leaving the room left her more desperate than ever.

It did occur to Katherine that Mr Blackwood might not be the only one enjoying her predicament. He had, after all permitted his gardener Thomas to violate her in the past. Perhaps it was not Mr Blackwood's but Thomas' hands, Thomas' breath, Thomas' eyes which were teasing her. She could not even deny the possibility that any number of people, friends of Mr Blackwood, visitors, servants had witnessed her indelicate predicament. Shamefully, she could not even deny that this possibility increased her arousal.

Now, however many hours later, still spread-eagled to the table, her frustration was consuming her. Her mind was full of visions of lines of men, faceless men, lining up and taking it in turn to fill her ravenous hole with their hard shafts, each bigger and more satisfying than the last. The thought of all these men desiring her, aroused by her, wanting to possess her made Katherine more frantic than ever. She tried tensing the muscles inside her loins to try to alleviate some of her suffering, but everything she tried just seemed to add to her hunger.

It was while lost in one of these delightful yet unsatisfying reveries that Katherine was returned to the reality of her situation, for after being undisturbed by a knock at the front door of Morton Hall, another sound chilled her to the bone, for she heard the sound of her mother addressing Mr Blackwood, and shortly after, her father's voice also spoke. She could tell that the voices did not come from the room in which she was currently incapacitated, but she could not tell if they came from behind a closed door or through an open doorway, nor could she remember whether the last set of retreating footsteps had been accompanied by the sound of a closing door.

Katherine lay, her thoughts equally on the unsatisfied longing deep in her belly and the humiliation she would feel if Mr Blackwood were to allow her parents to behold her compromising position. She realised with relief that the door between her and her parents was closed as their voices and Mr Blackwood's drew nearer, but she was still on edge, wondering whether Mr Blackwood would amuse himself by bringing them in to see her. They were just outside the door now, and she could hear her tormentor's voice: "I hope you'll forgive our not eating in the dining room, but I have one or two items in there I'm having some work done on. Perhaps I shall show you later."

The voices moved away, leaving Katherine to her anguish. Some time later she heard the door open and footsteps approaching. She held her breath, hoping it was not her parents, but humiliatingly hoping more that whoever it was would bring her ordeal to an end and give her the release she had been waiting so long for.

She felt soft breath on her ear. Mr Blackwood spoke to her for the first time since she had entered Morton Hall: "Your parents are such delightful company. Maybe I should invite them in here so we can all enjoy a pleasant conversation." She could hear the wicked smile on his face but was too focused on fleshly matters to rise to his taunts.

Perhaps he realised her absence of mind, for she felt his hand on her breast, gently kneading the tender flesh before sharply pinching the hardened nipple. As the hand slipped lower onto her heaving belly, Katherine couldn't stop her moans escaping.

"I would remind you that your parents are within earshot, and I have neglected to close the door," murmured Mr Blackwood. "Unless you want them to come and investigate I would suggest you remain quiet." His fingers found Katherine's sopping wet fissure, sliding inside her with no difficulty. It was all Katherine could do to stop herself screaming with the pleasure of finally being given what she had hungered for for so long. Even so, she was sure that her moans could be heard all through the house.

Her body writhed and rocked, trying to rub her nubbin against his hand as his fingers eased in and out of her slippery wetness, making delightfully vulgar slurping noises.

"You really are a wanton harlot," Mr Blackwood whispered. "What a mess your lustful hole has made all over the table." He withdrew his fingers from Katherine's still unsatisfied body, ignoring her whimpered entreaties to continue, and dipped them in the pool of fragrant nectar that had gathered between her thighs. "Absolutely shameless lewdness." He smeared his fingers up her thighs, making them slippery with her own honey. "I am being such an appalling host. I really must return to entertain my guests." He forced his fingers into her mouth, making her suck her taste from them before his footsteps once again left her alone with her dreams of satisfaction.

To Katherine it seemed like hours later when she heard her parents leave and footsteps once again approach her position. This time she quickly felt someone get between her legs and with no preliminaries, a hard member drove deep into her flesh. Now with no need to keep quiet, she screamed with relief and pleasure as the hardness provided the relief she needed. A mouth sucked her breasts, bit her neck, kissed her mouth, but it was the flesh that was plunging in and out of her that was giving her more pleasure than she had ever imagined, quickly raising her up to heights that seemed outside her own mind. Her tethered hands clutched at the air, wanting to dig their nails into the back of her lover to spur him onwards, deeper inside her as her body tensed itself, tensed itself, tensed itself, and finally released in a gushing, thundering, spasming glorious rush of pure pleasure that washed through her body, rushing from her belly to the tips of her captive toes and fingers and right up into the deepest depths of her brain.

Although she was unaware of anything other than her own pleasure, her own climax must have brought on that of Mr Blackwood, for he lay on top of her, seemingly lifeless until one hand, no more, began to move and Katherine felt first one, then the other hand released from its bonds. She wrapped her arms around him, held Mr Blackwood to her, forgiven for his causing her such torment after the pleasure she had received in consequence of it. She felt the swollen bruising around her wrists: she would have to find some way to cover that up until it disappeared.

It was the first time that Katherine had slept on a dining room table, but after her exertions she spent a strangely restful night cushioned by Mr Blackwood's firm yet yielding body.