Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Envy

   Part 2

   By Videll Dais

   The next morning was cold, grey and dull, the sky holding promise of a
lot of rain.  I arrived at the house early.  Not knowing what kind of
reception to expect, I was feeling kind of twitchy, nervous; a bit on edge
to say the least.  In his infinite wisdom, Junior Holt had given me a key.
I let myself in, made my way to the kitchen and proceeded to make coffee. I
saw no one, heard nothing, so assumed the family were still asleep. 
Slightly uncomfortable at being in someone else's home alone, I sat at the
breakfast bar to drink the coffee and ponder on how the day would go.  It
wasn't Junior that bothered me.  Nothing would give me greater pleasure
than to actually tell the prick to his podgy face that I'd fucked his
lovely wife right under his little piggy nose.  No, my main concern was for
Mrs.  Holt and how she would react towards me when we bumped into each
other again.  Half of me wanted to avoid the inevitable encounter but, at
the same time, the other half of me desperately hungered for it.  I
finished my coffee and, deciding it was an indoor kind of day, thought I'd
get on with a few jobs here on the ground floor so as not to bother the
family until they were up and around.  It was hard to stay focused, to
concentrate on what I was doing, but I forced myself to keep going and get
things done.  After about an hour or so, I heard a car start outside.  I
looked through a window and watched Junior Holt's Merc glide off down the
long drive.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  I always did when I knew the
dick brain was out of my way.  Feeling more relaxed now and, if I'm honest,
not a little excited at knowing I was in the house alone with the delicious
Mrs.  Holt, I thought it time to grab another coffee.  I was disappointed
to find the kitchen empty.  I made the drink and again sat at the breakfast
bar wondering why the place was so quiet.  It crossed my mind that after
witnessing what I had of his treatment of his wife yesterday, Holt had
probably instructed her (and, no doubt, the rest of the family) to avoid me
at all costs.  My heart leapt when the kitchen door suddenly opened.  I
turned expectantly only to be confronted by none other than...Leanne, the
six year-old.  When she saw me, she stood stock still, a look of scared
astonishment on her otherwise vacant little face.  "Good morning, Leanne,"
I said, giving her my broadest, friendliest smile.  The kid just stood
staring at me, startled eyes wide, mouth agape.  Jesus, I fervently hoped
she wasn't about to scream or something.  That was the last thing I needed.
"Hey, are you ok?" I asked.  "Don't you remember me?  I'm your Daddy's
friend.  We met yesterday.  I'm here to mend your house." Leanne appeared
to churn this information over in her confused mind for a moment, before
slowly nodding her copper blonde head.  She was still in her nightie and I
couldn't help but notice that underneath it she was naked, her young body
clearly visible through the almost transparent material.  My eyes were
drawn to the juncture of her thighs and the inverted V of a creamy smooth,
plump pubis and neat little split.  Unbelievably, out of nowhere, came the
thought that I'd love to lick it for her, and I felt a positive stirring in
my loins.  Somewhat disgusted, I wondered what the fuck the matter was, me
looking at a little girl's sex, wanting to do dirty things to her?  I shook
my head, looked away, and tried to push the perverted images from my mind
and grab at something more rational, more - normal!  "Why aren't you in
school today?" I asked, fixing my eyes on nothing other than her sweet,
innocently angelic face.  Leanne didn't answer, but the tension seemed to
melt from her and she slowly made her way into the kitchen.  She stooped
over and opened a cupboard.  My gaze wandered to the lovely rounded curves
of her bottom.  Oh, God.  I quickly looked away and took another sip of
coffee.  "Where's your Mum, Leanne?" "Bed.  Sleep," she replied, in her
oddly backward manner of speech.  Again standing upright, she noisily
closed the cupboard.  "Mummy sleep." She had a box of cereal clasped in her
tiny hand.  She turned and, frowning, gave me a sort of helpless, pleading
look.  "What?" I said.  "You want me to help you?  Shall I get your
breakfast ready?" She almost gave me a smile, but seemed to change her mind
and nodded instead.  "Ok, no problem.  I can do that for you." Not being
too familiar with the kitchen, I had to ferret around in different
cupboards for a bowl, sugar and stuff.  I found what was needed and did the
necessary, placing the bowl, sugar, milk and spoon on the breakfast bar.  I
took the box of cereal and filled the bowl.  "There you go," I said,
smiling down at her.  "All done." Leanne seemed to be having difficulty
negotiating the bar stool which, for her, was quite tall I suppose.  "Here,
let me lift you up." I placed my hands on her small waist.  She felt as
light as a feather...and soft and warm.  She giggled as I lifted her up.  I
don't know what came over me, what made me do it, but I cupped her small
bottom with one hand, the tips of my fingers nestling in the hot crease,
and took my time lowering her onto the stool.  Through the silky nightie,
the shape and feel of her bottom seemed to burn into my palm, scorch my
fingers.  Blood pulsed in my veins, and I was stunned to realise I had a
powerful erection.  "Comfortable?" I said, placing my hands on her small
shoulders.  Leanne nodded.  Reaching for her spoon, she began to eat with
some gusto.  The nightie made her skin feel slippery smooth...  and
wonderfully warm.  I felt a desperate need to run my hands all over her. 
"You eat up all that and you'll soon be a big, strong girl." As I spoke I
deliberately but, I hoped, not too obviously pressed my groin against
Leanne's tight little bottom and smoothed my hands down her arms and around
her lower back.  There was absolutely no reaction from her at all to my
touches which served only to fire my blood to furnace temperatures, and
make my erection ache with intense need.  'Jesus, Ray, control yourself,' I
thought.  'Get a grip on it and stop this.  What the hell are you playing
at here?' This was dangerous, unexplored territory that, whilst playing
sheer havoc with my nerves and emotions, made my heart pound with a rare
and very special excitement.  It never entered my head that, at any second,
Mrs.  Holt or the other kid could walk into the kitchen.  I didn't give a
damn about the risks involved.  This was Junior Holt's youngest daughter,
one of his treasured (albeit, a disappointing treasure, according to him)
possessions, and she was now here with me, under my control - with no one
else around, no one to interrupt or interfere.  I felt I could do anything
I pleased with her, just like yesterday with Mrs.  Holt.  Right now, Leanne
was mine; I owned her.  And, like yesterday, the turn-on was instant and
fiercely intense.  As she ate her breakfast in blissful ignorance and
innocent naivety, I stood quietly behind her and continued to gently hold
and touch her in ever more intimate and daring ways.  I slid a hand under
her arm and gently caressed her flat chest, tweaking her little nipples and
lightly brushing my fingers over soft belly while my other hand stroked the
length of each smooth, bare thigh, pushing the flimsy nightie up till it
bunched in her lap.  Leanne remained unconcerned by anything I did and
focused only on eating her breakfast.  The more I touched her small, soft
body, the more I wanted to touch her.  I couldn't stop myself.  I had no
control over what I was doing.  Whilst fingering her small nipples and
caressing her soft skin, I muttered silly nothings in her ear.  "You are a
beautiful little girl, Leanne.  I like you a lot.  Do you know what?  I
wish I had a sweet little girl like you.  Your Mummy and Daddy are very
lucky to have someone as beautiful as you around the house.  I think I'd
like to take you home with me." I gently pulled Leanne's nightie up and
eased her unresisting thighs wide apart.  Boldly, I eyed her delightful
nakedness and traced a finger over the smooth, fatty bulge of her pubis
then down further, lightly following along the soft puffy lips of her slit.
God, her little cunt was perfect, so perfect.  Trembling with excitement, I
eased the smooth in-roll of her labia folds apart and explored the
delicate, slightly moist, pink interior.  She wriggled a little, but raised
no protest.  When Leanne finished eating, I turned the stool around so she
faced me.  She didn't seem to notice my erection which blatantly tented the
front of my jeans only inches from her spread thighs.  "My word," I said,
"you did really well there.  You must have been starving.  Look's like you
dribbled milk down your front, though.  It's all wet.  Here, let me take
off your nightie.  It must be uncomfortable.  Lift up." "Wet," Leanne said,
and grinned.  Without hesitation, she raised her arms.  I raised the
garment and slipped it over her head.  Her coppery hair tumbled around her
narrow shoulders.  Quite unabashed by her nakedness, she looked up at me,
her eyes vacant, her wide mouth slightly agape, lips moist and healthily
pink.  I think it was right then that I knew what I was going to do.  "Sit
there a moment." I said.  "Don't move, ok?" She slowly nodded.  I went out
into the hall and stood at the bottom of the wide staircase listening for
any signs of activity.  I could hear absolutely nothing and, deeming it
safe, returned to the kitchen where Leanne still perched innocently naked
and inviting on the tall stool.  I stood directly in front of her.  My
heart was thumping in my chest and I was trembling with excitement.  "Show
me how you can suck my finger," I said.  She leaned forwards and my finger
was suddenly enveloped in moist, sucking heat.  "Look up at me while you
suck, Leanne.  That's it.  Good girl.  Very good.  Keep doing it." As I
spoke, I unzipped my jeans and, in seconds, had released my throbbing cock.
I reached for one of Leanne's hands and wrapped her small fingers around
it. God, her innocent touch alone was almost enough to make me cum there
and then.  With my hand covering hers, I showed her how to wank it for me
as she continued untiringly to suck on my finger.  "Use your tongue,
Leanne," I whispered, gently moving my finger over the moist, slightly
raspy surface.  "Lick the end of my finger like it's an ice cream.  Yes,
that's it...  That's right.  Nice.  Good.  My word, you're a clever little
girl aren't you?  Did you know that men and boys have cocks between their
legs?  They don't have little splits like you've got.  You're touching my
big, hard cock right now and I like it.  It pleases me.  You please me,
Leanne.  You're such a good girl." After another minute or two, I removed
my finger from between Leanne's eagerly sucking lips.  "Open your mouth
nice and wide," I said.  The compliant child trustingly did as I asked,
following my instructions to the letter.  I put a hand on the back of her
neck, applied a little pressure to make her lean towards me, and placed the
head of my cock to her lips and eased it into her willing mouth.  My knees
almost buckled.  The sensation was exquisite.  "Look up, Leanne," I smiled
down into her beautiful eyes, watched eagerly as her mouth stretched into a
wide O around the girth of my shaft, engulfing the bulbous head completely.
"That's it.  Keep looking up at me.  Now - I want you to suck on my cock
like you did my finger, understand?  Good girl.  That's it, show me how
well you can suck my cock." Leanne was certainly a game child all right; a
perfect pupil.  In a moment, I was gently sawing half my cock in and out of
her warm, wet, willing mouth, fucking her face in a slow, steady rhythm. 
"Use your tongue, Leanne," I whispered, urgently.  "Lick all around the end
of my cock as you suck.  That's it.  Wonderful.  Good girl.  Good.  You are
so good I'm going to let you drink some nice cream, my milk.  When the
cream comes out just keep sucking.  Don't stop, ok?  Swallow it all and it
will make you into a big strong girl." Such was the feelings coursing
through my body, my whole world, my entire life, became centred on the two
or three inches of tingling gristle being almost greedily indulged by the
young innocent.  Though I would've liked to have kept going for another
hour, I was right on the verge of coming.  The sensation of Leanne's mouth
on my cock, her delicious, inexperienced sucking, was just too much to bear
for any great length of time.  My balls were tingling and tight.  I pressed
her small head into me and, a moment later, my cock was pulsing on her
bobbing tongue and as near to the back of her dilating throat as it was
possible to get without choking her.  Such intensity!  Such an orgasm!  I
gasped with pleasure.  "Agh, There...That's it, Leanne," I panted. 
"There's my cream.  Drink it!  Suck...  Suck!  Good girl...Swallow. 
Good...Oh God!  Wonderful!  Wonderful!" A ribbon of pearly cum trickled
from one stretched corner of the young girl's mouth as she diligently
endeavoured to meet my demands.  My knees were quivering.  I held her on my
cock for another delicious minute and then released her.  She coughed and
spluttered for a bit, but soon recovered enough to lick her lips and wipe
them with the back of her hand.  She watched curiously as I reluctantly
tucked my shrinking cock back into my jeans.  I thanked her, handed her
nightie to her and, after praising her some more whilst gently massaging
the spilt cum on her belly into her soft skin - and giving her plump little
cunt lips another gentle fingering - told her to go upstairs and get
dressed.  The enormity of what I'd done, the terrible risks I'd taken just
for a moments pleasure and a teaspoonful of cum, didn't hit me till a good
hour later.  The disgust, the guilt, washed over me, but soon passed as the
memory of how Leanne's lips and mouth had felt around my cock came to
dominate my thinking.  I intended a repeat performance as soon as possible.

   ***

   I didn't see Mrs.  Holt till after I'd had lunch.  She was coming out of
her bedroom as I was on my way to the loft.  She was wearing a short,
cream-coloured silk robe belted at the waist.  Her long legs were bare. 
Eyes like dull emeralds, her face devoid of make-up and sleep-webbed,
looked as alluring and beautiful as ever.  Her hair draped her shoulders
like a fall of liquid fire.  My heart leapt into my throat at the sight of
her.  "Good afternoon, Mrs.  Holt," I said, praying I sounded casual and
cheery, though, with thoughts of little Leanne still occupying every dark
corner of my brain, in truth I felt anything but.  "Good afternoon," she
replied, haltingly.  Obviously embarrassed at been discovered in her
present state of attire, a deep blush coloured her cheeks.  Delightful. 
"Are you feeling all right.  You look a little pale, if you don't mind me
saying so." She held a hand to her throat, gathering the robe tighter to
her long neck and cast her eyes to the carpet.  "Oh, I'm fine," she
replied, her voice soft, quavering, the lie not very convincing.  "Just a
headache...  but, it has almost gone now." "Are you sure?"
"Y-Yes...Really." Mrs.  Holt appeared to shrink against the door frame. 
"Can I ask you a personal question, Mrs.  Holt?" "Yes...Yes of course."
"Does my being in the house bother you in any way?" "Dear me, Mr.  Dean. 
N-No, of course not." "Oh, that's good," I smiled.  "I would hate to think
I was the cause of any, well...'discomfort', shall we say?" The gorgeous
redhead seemed to mull over the word 'discomfort'.  I wondered if the
events of yesterday could actually be termed discomfort, whether or not she
could again feel the lashing belt stinging her up-turned arse; the
thrusting of my cock into her deliciously tight, wet and welcoming cunt;
the surge of her gut-wrenching orgasm.  I certainly could.  Every lecherous
detail.  Did she know?  Did she have any idea that it was me who had fucked
her so furiously, so anonymously?  I could still taste the delicate flavour
of her copious juices, her exquisite, excited flesh on my tongue and at my
fingertips.  What the hell had I been so worried about earlier?  This woman
was so docile, so afraid of her own shadow, even if she did know it was me,
she would never raise a complaint or confront me about it.  Husband Mathew
had done a real thorough number on her.  She was a born victim, a compliant
submissive, whose sole purpose in life was to be hubby's plaything, to be
used and abused by him in whatever way he chose.  Not for the first time
today, my cock stirred in my jeans.  "Dis...comfort?" Mrs.  Holt stuttered,
blushing an even deeper shade of crimson.  "I'm not sure I understand what
you mean, Mr.  Dean, but no...You don't make me feel...uncomfortable at
all. The robe clung to her full breasts like a second skin.  She obviously
wore no bra and her erect nipples were more than evident.  I couldn't take
my eyes off them.  God, what a body this woman had.  My mouth was as dry as
the Arizona desert.  Just for a second she raised her eyes and, suddenly, I
didn't give a damn.  I let her see me openly admiring her ripe curves with
more than just a passing interest.  I wanted her to see my need, my lust
for her, blazing in my eyes.  Her response was as I suspected.  She quickly
looked away, looked at anything, anywhere except at me.  I watched a pulse
in her pale neck and the flush of embarrassment colour her cheeks.  "Do you
find it uncomfortable talking to me?" Mrs.  Holt didn't answer or look up,
but shook her head no.  I was tired of beating around the bush any longer.
I wanted to fuck her again, to enjoy her in every way possible, and now was
as good a time as any.  I threw all caution to the wind.  "You know..." I
kept my voice low, calm.  "I saw you.  I saw what Matthew did to you
yesterday, how cruel he was.  I saw him beat you...  Six times.  I heard
him say he was punishing you for 'speaking' to me.  Is that true?  Does he
take his belt to you often?  Do you like being tied up, being helpless;
being strapped across your naked rump?  How would you like me to do that
for you?" Mrs.  Holt just stared at me, the colour visibly draining from
her face.  Without warning, she spun against the bedroom door, pushing
against it, fumbling with the handle.  I watched the full, rounded curves
of her buttocks quiver beneath the silk robe.  She got the door open and as
she stepped over the threshold, I stepped in close behind her, pushing her
further into the room, shutting the door as I went.  "Wha-...?" Mrs.  Holt,
clasping the skimpy robe to her neck, gaped wide-eyed at me, words failing
her as she backed away only stopping when she was pressed flat against a
huge double-mirrored wardrobe.  I saw the A-frame still in the same place
it had been yesterday.  Images of this beautiful woman bent over its padded
top flashed behind my eyes like a pornographic movie playing at double
speed.  "I'd just like to remind you, Mrs.  Holt," I said, quietly, "there
is just you, me, and the two girls in the house.  We are alone.  I think it
would be somewhat imprudent of you to make too much noise.  Don't even
think of screaming.  Do you understand?" Not taking her eyes from me, as if
in a trance, Mrs.  Holt slowly nodded that she did.  "Good.  Now come
here." I pointed at a spot on the carpet about a foot in front of me.  She
hesitated.  "Mr.  Dean...Please..." I spoke more abruptly.  "Come here! 
Now!" Her shoulders sagged in resignation and, taking a deep breath, she
slowly came towards me.  She stopped almost exactly where I had told her
to. She looked at me pleadingly, her bottom lip quivering.  "P-please... 
Please, M-Mr.  Dean...  Don't...  hurt me.  Please don't hurt me." "Be
quiet," I said, sternly.  I felt a vein throb in my temple.  This was fun.
My cock stirred in my jeans.  "Stand up straight, shoulders back.  That's
better.  Now don't move unless I tell you to.  Do you understand." Again,
she shook her head.  "Answer me, Mrs.  Holt." "Y-yes...  Yes, I-I
understand." "Not good enough.  When you answer me, I want the proper
respect.  You will call me sir.  Is that clear?" "Yes...  Sir." God, I
couldn't believe how easy it was to completely control this woman.  I felt
so powerful, so potent.  My turgid shaft now stood at full mast, tenting my
jeans.  I didn't care if Mrs.  Holt saw my arousal or not.  In fact, I
wanted her to see it, wanted her to know just what to expect in the not too
distant future.  I stepped up close to her.  "Stick your tits out.  Come
on. Right out.  You have lovely tits.  Those nipples are so long, hard and
suck-able.  Stick them out.  Be proud of them.  You are a very beautiful
woman, Mrs.  Holt.  I've wanted you ever since I first laid eyes on you. 
Did you know it was me who licked, fingered and fucked you yesterday
afternoon?  Yes, that's right: Me.  Remember?  I licked you - everywhere! I
made you cum after Ray had finished giving you six lashes of his belt and
-" I paused for effect, "there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it
was there?" Tears flooded Mrs.  Holt's eyes.  She shook her head and her
auburn locks rippled.  "Did you like it?" I went on, adding to her
humiliation.  "Did you like the feel of my tongue on your clit?  Did you
like me licking your tight little arsehole?  And how about my cock?  I'm a
big guy; bigger than average.  Bigger than Matthew, right?  Did you like
feeling it opening up your cunt, stretching you, sliding in deep?  Well? 
Answer me.  Did you like it?" Mrs.  Holt trembled, making her breasts move
temptingly, a gentle wobble of firm flesh beneath the thin robe.  She
closed her eyes and a tear trickled down her flawless cheek.  She remained
suffering in silence.  "Answer me.  Did you like having my cock in you?"
Again, a meek attempt at rebellion, of defiance, Mrs.  Holt shook her head.
She cleared her throat and muttered a pathetic, "N-no." "Answer me again
and show proper respect." "N-no - sir!" Mrs.  Holt bit her bottom lip. 
"Better, but the wrong answer.  You're lying.  Now, I want the truth.  If I
don't get it, you might have cause for some regret.  Did you like my cock
fucking your tight little cunt?" Mrs.  Holt's trembling shoulder's sagged.
She hung her head in shame and tears fell to the deep-pile carpet. 
"Please..." she whimpered.  "D-don't do this to me.  Don't." I slowly
stepped around and behind her.  "You're slouching.  Stand up straight."
Without warning I slapped the prominent curve of Mrs.  Holt's right buttock
with a flat, open palm - very hard.  The robe fluttered as my hand made
contact with her firm flesh and her whole delightful arse rippled with
shock.  Her whole body jerked to attention, trembling breasts thrust
forwards, shoulders, back and thighs tensing like a coiled spring.  Mrs. 
Holt yelped once and gasped several deep, rapid breaths.  "That's just a
taster, Mrs.  Holt," I said, coldly.  "I want the proper respect. 
Remember?" "Y-Yes, sir." This time, there was no hesitation.  "That's good.
Much better.  See how easy it is?  Now, you'd better get my lessons right
first time because I can keep this up all day.  Or - until your husband
walks through the door and discovers you in this very compromising
situation.  Somehow, I can't see Matthew being too impressed can you? 
Think about that.  Think about which you'd prefer: Dragging this unpleasant
episode out.  Or behaving yourself, pleasing me and getting it done.  The
choice is yours.  Now, no more fucking around.  Answer the question: did
you like my cock up your cunt yesterday?" "N-no...Sir!  I-I hated every
minute of it.  Y-you...  you raped me!"

   ***

   "Stand still," I said.  "Don't you move a fucking muscle." I placed my
hand flat on the back of Mrs.  Holt's warm, hard thigh then slid it up
under the robe till I touched her clenched bottom.  She was wearing brief
panties, almost a thong, so sheer I barely felt them.  Taking my time, I
lazily explored her delicious, taut curves, both full, round cheeks and the
hot, deep crease, before dipping lower, following the crease with my
fingers to where her trembling thighs met.  She was breathing through her
nose, inhaling and exhaling like she'd just completed a five-mile run. 
"Relax.  Open your legs." She hesitated, but only for a second.  I
teasingly extended a finger and slipped it under the thin, protective strip
of the gusset of her panties, and on along the soft crevasse towards her
cunt.  She was trembling from head to toe, made a kind of whimpering noise
back in her throat.  My fingers bunched tight.  "A little wider." She bent
her knees slightly.  Her trembling thighs parted further and I slid a
finger to her pussy.  She was wet.  She was on fire.  I slipped my index
finger easily into her velvet-soft cunt, followed up quickly with my ring
finger.  God, she felt so hot.  Her cunt seemed to contract and suck on my
fingers.  Mrs.  Holt drew in another sharp breath and groaned.  "So," I
said, my voice barely a whisper.  I continued to slowly finger-fuck her hot
quim, making her juices squelch a little.  "You didn't like having my cock
in you?" "N-no.  Sir." "Like you don't like my fingers fucking you right
now?" "N-No, sir." I watched her breasts rapidly rising and falling with
her heavy breathing.  "Sure you're being honest with me?" "Yes...sir." I
withdrew my fingers from her cloying heat.  "I think you're lying, Mrs. 
Holt.  Go and bend over the frame.  Now!" "Oh God...  Don't...  Sir, please
don't." "Get over that frame now!" "Oh God," Mrs.  Holt wailed as she
turned to cross the room.  Heart pounding with excitement, I watched the
short robe cling to every curve of her narrow waist, slow-rolling buttocks
and quivering flanks, as she walked elegantly across the room to the A
frame.  What a beauty.  I undid my jeans and stripped them off along with
my jumper and boxers.  My naked body was reflected in the large mirrors
and, apart from a little extra padding at the waist, looked pretty good for
someone my age.  My thickly-veined cock stood in eager anticipation of the
fun to come, as stiff as the collar on a freshly starched shirt, the fat,
purple helmet swollen like it was about to explode.  I strutted the room
and stood close behind Mrs.  Holt.  "Take off the robe and bend over the
frame." "Please, Mr.  Dean - sir, don't make me do this.  Please...  I have
to see to the children." "Well, the quicker you do as you're told, the
quicker you'll be free to do what you have to do.  Where does Matthew keep
his belts?" "Ooh, God!" Mrs.  Holt again wailed her torment.  "Stop that
and tell me where to find Matthew's belts.  Tell me because if I have to
search for them the worse it'll be for you." "Yes...  sir.  Over there...
In t-the left-hand side of...of the wardrobe." I slid open one of the
sliding mirrors and there, hanging in a row, was about a dozen belts of
various sorts and colours; wide, medium, narrow; something for all
occasions.  I chose a medium leather in black.  It felt cool and smooth
with enough weight to make my point.  In the mirror, I caught Mrs.  Holt
watching me from the corner of her eye, not actually me but my erect shaft.
I pretended not to notice, turned and went back to the frame.  "Why haven't
you done as I told you?" I flicked the belt and, like a striking snake, the
tip cracked across her buttocks.  She jumped and gasped both at the same
time.  Her hands fluttered at the tie, it loosened, and with a shrug of her
shoulders the robe whispered to her feet.  She stood naked except for the
delicate, tiny, almost non-existent panties.  They were pale pink and did
nothing to conceal her charms.  I loved them.  "Now - assume the position.
You know what you have to do.  Bend over the frame.  Right over.  That's
it. Good.  Reach for the bottom rings.  Good girl." God, every movement
made her taut, flawless flesh tremble in all the right ways.  Needing no
artificial support, her breasts jutted from her rib cage, the nipples long,
stiff nubs, begging for my attention.  Her bottom was stretched high into
two perfectly rounded hillocks and, though her thighs were flexed tightly
together, the smooth bulge of her panty-covered cunt-lips peeked out
between them.  The scarlet fingerprints where I'd slapped her showed up
livid against her pale skin.  She looked so vulnerable, so helpless,, so
very - ravishing, which was good because 'ravish' was what I had in mind.
My cock was hurting with a real urgent need.  I knelt and fastened her
wrists to the O-rings with the leather straps that were fixed to the frame,
then I stood up and took a step back.  "Well, Mrs.  Holt, I'm getting a
distinct feeling of déjà vu here.  Are you?  If not, you soon will be. 
Spread your legs." I fastened each of her ankles in the same manner as her
wrists.  I picked up the belt from the bed and, without even a pause for
thought, flicked the end fast and hard right on that neat little cunt
bulge. Mrs.  Holt's head jerked upwards.  She yelled, and every muscle in
her gorgeous body tensed.  Her arse clenched and the soft flesh of her
inner thighs trembled violently.  "Yell again, Mrs.  Holt and I shall be
forced to gag you.  Do you want that?  Do you want me to gag you?" "N-No,
sir...  Please, no." "Well, you'd better keep it quiet then.  If I don't
gag you and you make too much noise, one or both of the girls might hear
you, might come in here to find out what's going on.  The door isn't
locked. I'm sure you wouldn't want them to see you like this would you?  Or
me - naked, my cock all hard and sticking up.  No, not a good idea.  Best
keep it real quiet." I raised the belt and strapped both left and right
arse cheeks in quick succession.  The cracks of leather kissing flesh were
like gunshots in the silent room.  I'd never belted a woman before.  I
loved it, loved the way it sang and played such a wicked tune on Mrs. 
Holt's tender skin, loved the way it made every muscle, tendon, sinew and
nerve convulse and dance.  I flicked it twice more, stinging little bites
low down at the tops of her thighs.  She moaned and made strange,
choking-type noises in the back of her throat, but she didn't scream.  I
wanted to get to her breasts, but it wasn't a convenient position.  I made
a mental note to tie her in a different position next time.  My cock felt
huge and was leaking copious amounts of pre-cum.  I was breathing hard and
a fine film of sweat beaded my brow.  Two more hard, flat swipes and I took
a break.  "Now, Mrs.  Holt," I said, reaching between her thighs, cupping
her hot, moist sex in my palm and gently stroking a finger along her
cunt-lips, easily discernable through the thin panties.  "I'm sure the belt
has given you time to re-evaluate your perception of yesterdays events, so
I'll ask you the same question I asked earlier.  This time, I want you to
be really honest.  Did you like my cock up you, fucking your tight little
cunt?" Mrs.  Holt, her breathing ragged, raised her head, sniffed, and
muttered, "Yes...sir.  Yes, I did.  I loved it." "You loved it did you? 
Loved what?" "Y-Your...  your penis...  sir," she gasped.  "I-I loved
your...  penis." "I want you to use the words I do.  What did you love?"
"Ooh God..." Mrs.  Holt wailed like a wounded soul.  "I-I loved your
c-cock, sir.  I loved your...  big cock up me, sir.  F-Fucking my...  my
cunt." "That's a good girl.  Very good.  Wonderful what a few belts to the
arse can achieve isn't it?  Clarifies the thinking and that's a fact."
Fisting my shaft, I stepped closer to her.  I grabbed the thin strip of
panty from between her arse cheeks, pulled the material tight against her
pouting quim, let it slacken then eased it aside.  Her pale, puffed, labia
gaped wetly.  If ever a woman needed fucking, Mrs.  Holt was positively
gagging for it I stroked the leaking helmet of my shaft along the soft
cleft, pausing at her clit, rubbing it in circles around the oily nub, then
back through her gaping lips to the puckered star of her anus.  Mrs.  Holt
trembled and moaned low in her throat.  I was tempted to fuck her arse, but
that pleasure would have to wait for a while.  I really needed to get deep
into the core of her womanhood right now.  I gripped the fleshy pads of her
hips, quickly found her sopping entrance then gave her a little rimming,
before thrusting my hips forward and giving her the full length.  God, her
velvet innards were hot, clasping.  I sawed into her with long, vicious
strokes.  "Ooh...Oh, yes!  Fuck me, sir.  Fuck me!" Mrs.  Holt creamed in
less than a minute.  It took me a little longer.  When I came, I spurted my
full wad against twitching her cervix.  Later, when I'd had time to get my
breath back and my shit in order, I told Mrs.  Holt in no uncertain terms
about what I expected of her tomorrow.  "Yes, sir," she said.