Darkest Fantasies Read online

  'Are you ready, Esther, dear?'

  Madam Tisset wandered in wearing her own chosen outfit; a very slinky red rubber dress. A few weeks ago Esther would have thought her a sad woman, but now she treated the older lady with respect, combined with a surprising amount of real affection. Once, if anyone had hinted she might ever become friendly with a self-confessed whore, she would have been most indignant. But not now.

  'Yes, I'm ready,' she said.

  'Right. The first rule of keeping a slave is discipline. It's a bit like having a dog. You have to be firm to be kind. The slave must always know what is expected, because if he's confused he can become unhappy with his position. Now, for the most part we can keep him chained up - there are various interesting positions - or in that cage over there when he's not required. I prefer them chained, myself, because they have a certain decorative quality. I also like to keep them gagged to stop them from inadvertently irritating me with silly questions and demands, but you can always remove it if you're in need of some really serious grovelling.'

  Esther's giggle was part shock, part amusement, part excitement. Ben now stood in a stretched star in the middle of the large room, his wrists chained to a spreader above his head, his ankles locked into a spreader attached to the floor. His mouth was propped open by a rubber bit.

  'Now, dear,' Madam Tisset went on, 'he's all yours... aren't you, Ben?'

  Ben nodded, and mumbled something.

  'What did he say?'

  'Thank you, Madam. Slaves are grateful to be noticed, whether you wish to speak to them or simply abuse them. And if they forget, then you must remind them in such a way it doesn't happen again. Slaves must never be allowed to forget their manners.'

  Esther stood hesitantly, wondering what she should do, and Madam Tisset tut-tutted. 'You've got the costume on, girl. Become it! Do what you want. Examine him. See what he's made of. Take his pants off and have a good look at his penis. I doubt you've ever looked at Kevin's that closely, have you? Once you know what you're dealing with you can stop being afraid of it. It's not magic the way his silly tool gets big, it's blood pressure, and the biggest weapon you have is knowing how to control his valves. Once you've done that, the next thing to learn is where his pleasure centres are. They're his weak points. With that knowledge you will never feel small again. Now, go ahead.'

  Not feeling at all dominant, Esther reluctantly stepped forward, and once again Madam Tisset took charge. She spread her hands out and rubbed them all over the chained man's torso and thighs as though she was rubbing down a horse. 'Like this, dear, now join in. Even this surface rubbing has a reason. You see, it brings tiny blood vessels to the surface, makes everything more sensitive, so when you hit him later it's far more effective.'

  Growing more confident as time went on, Esther smoothed her hands firmly across Ben's hard chest, twiddled his nipples firmly, then ran her hands down to the top of his shorts, thinking how much hairier he was than Kevin. She rubbed her hands up and down his hard thighs, slipping a finger under the rim where the shorts tightly encompassed his flesh. Then she walked around him and, getting more familiar, ground herself against the tiny buttocks to make her own leather garb creak against her, creating strange erotic sensations to flood her middle. After a while Esther found that touching the man all over when he could neither reciprocate or argue made him less of a human being, more of an object to be played with and manipulated.

  She grew braver, stronger. Then she ran her fingers up his tapered back, along the ridges of muscle on his broad shoulders, felt the raised blood vessels pulsing under her hands. Walking around the front once more, she slid both hands up the thickness of his neck, pushed her fingers into the wiry mass of his hair and pulled her thumbs down over his cheeks, sliding them under the web of straps that held the bit in place. Then she went one step further and fed a finger into his mouth above the bit, pushing his tongue this way and that. He groaned, and she realised with shock that the penis was no longer flaccid. She had made the man rampant. Was it really that easy?

  When she made love with Kevin she sometimes had to knead him into fullness before he could make love to her. She didn't like having to do that, it was as if he wasn't really interested in her as a woman, that simply being there wasn't enough to make him fancy her. She now knew she was right and was slightly saddened that she might have gone for the rest of her life without realising this simple fact.

  But why was this man so rampant when she was touching anything except his penis? Then the penny dropped. Anticipation. Oh, goodness. The answer had been there all along. All the years of her marriage she'd been trying to milk Kevin like a cow, when what he needed was other stimuli. Yet why hadn't he told her that? It was this Victorian double standard at work again, she realised. One thing for the whore, but the wife was supposed to lie back in the dark and think of England. It wasn't really fair, was it?

  But one thing that did happen, with all that touching and with the fellow, big as he was, chained up like that, she realised she felt nothing but superiority over him. He was vastly her superior in the muscle department alone, but at that moment she was the boss. She could do to him whatever she wanted. Now she wanted to see him all.

  She discovered the shorts were held in place by a buckle on each hip. She released them one by one, only to discover the shorts held more surprises than the man's body alone. In the front his balls were encased in another tight leather pouch, which she had to release, and at the back a dildo slid out of his anus when she pulled them from him.

  She made a tiny noise of shock and looked over at Madam Tisset, who was now lounging in a torture chair with her legs crossed. 'Does he enjoy stuff like that?' she asked, indicating the shorts.

  'The more uncomfortable you make his privates, the more he can't take his mind off them. And if it begins to hurt, so much the better. You see, pain is as near to pleasure as you can get. The slave will get more pleasure from his erogenous zones being respectively constricted, forced apart or beaten, as he will from the final act of ejaculation. The trick is to make him feel a whole multitude of emotions, ones he cannot control or escape from or assist in, hence the immobilisation. Over the session these will amalgamate into a single massive experience which his pea-brain will later tell him he has enjoyed.'

  She uncurled from her seat. 'Right, now you're relaxed about it all, we'll look at the various sexual aids. To start with we'll go through the insertion tools, go on to the constriction devices - do find out which ones excite you, never mind what he likes at this moment, he's there to please you, no more - and once you've done that you can try out the paddles and whips.'

  'But what if I hurt him?'

  'I'll add it to his bill. Right, Ben?'

  Ben nodded and mumbled again.

  Esther was slightly shocked. 'But I thought I was going to have to pay him.'

  'Good God, no,' Madam Tisset scoffed. 'He's not getting all this for free. What do you think I am, a charitable institution? Now, have a look at these.' She pulled out a drawer full of stainless steel tools which would have done justice to a surgeon.

  After some instruction, and with a little trepidation, Esther practised. She took the flaccid penis into her hand and tentatively began to insert one of the long slender tools. Ben's whole body tensed and quivered as she found the entrance to his urethra and slid the tool in. There was a small groan from behind the gag. She moved the probe around, prodding and pulling so the curved end touched various places inside him. He tensed, and the penis became huge.

  'Is that right?' she asked uncertainly.

  He nodded, gasping and shuddering, and a small dribble of liquid slid over her fingers.

  'After a while that can be quite painful. Especially if you make him drink lots of water and instruct him to hold it,' Madam Tisset said, pouring herself a cup of tea. 'They can find that quite nice. And that tube there is quite a good one. If you push that in, then use the bulb to pressurise it, you can stop them from peeing at all until you release it. They use
that in hospitals for people with incontinence. It takes a bit of practice to get it in, though, so perhaps we should leave it until later.'

  'And this?' Esther asked, becoming more intrigued by the array of implements.

  'Oh, that one does the same thing at the rear end. You can blow it up like a balloon inside him, cramp his bowels up something lovely. Go on, have a try. You might need to use some lubricant - the finger is the best way of doing that. I've already flushed him out, given him an enema, so he's not going to do anything nasty. Now, I've got to go and make some calls to clients. Get on and enjoy yourself, and just call if you need me. That's an impressive erection you've got there,' she added admiringly.

  Esther found herself distanced from reality. She was in a room where a man she had never seen before was strung up in chains for her pleasure. Not only had he allowed it voluntarily, but he was paying for it. Madam Tisset was talking about him as if he was a piece of meat, and she, herself, was sticking things in his private places, which he seemed to be enjoying immensely. It made her feel very powerful and important.

  She lubricated his anus as Madam Tisset had told her, and pushed the plug in. There was a faint resistance before it was sucked into place. She then proceeded to blow it up. At the first few pumps there was no reaction, then he made gasping noises, then he made groaning noises. When he made little strangled noises in his throat and began to convulse against the chains she thought she had gone far enough, so released the pressure and began all over again. It was a bit like winding up a toy and watching it go.

  When Madam Tisset came back in a while later, Ben was covered in a sheen of sweat, his balls sported a weight of rather impressive size, and Esther was beating his buttocks with a short cat-o'-nine-tails made of rubber. His penis was pendulous and leaking, and every so often the tips of the whip would catch the back of his balls and send him writhing.

  'Very good,' Madam Tisset complimented. 'Of course, the one thing that would make this all slightly more exciting for him would be to put a blindfold on him. Then he would have no idea where the next lash will fall. If he can't anticipate, he can't stop himself from reacting. But that's enough for now, dearie. Ben has to go to work in a minute, so do you want to have a go at finishing him off, or shall I do it?'

  'How would he want it to be done?' Esther said hesitantly.

  'My dear, it doesn't matter what the slave wants. That's not what this is all about. You're the mistress here. You're supposed to be doing what you want. Have you enjoyed yourself? Has it made you feel exceedingly randy, so that you want to go home and leap on Kevin?'

  'Yes,' Esther said with feeling. 'I feel all wound up and nowhere to go.'

  'Excellent. Then finish him off, like this - then let him down and send him to me in the office when he's showered.'

  Esther used her hand as Madam Tisset had shown her.

  'Thank you, Madam,' he gasped as she took the gag out of his mouth. 'Can I visit you again, please? You're very good.'

  And so the self-confidence lessons progressed.

  Chapter 5

  Several weeks later Kevin arrived home on a Sunday evening to greet Esther with a quick kiss and a large sigh. 'Hello, darling. Sorry I'm later than expected. It's been the most trying week. Working all hours, staying at that damned hotel all weekend for the conference.'

  'You poor dear,' Esther said sympathetically. 'Perhaps it's time you had a little holiday. Anyway, you're home now. Come and have your dinner. I've only been keeping it warm for an hour or so.'

  He sniffed appreciatively and thought how nice it was to have plain English cooking after the excessively rich food in the hotel. 'Roast beef, just like mother made. Essie, honey, you're a wonder!'

  'Slip your shoes off, sit down and have a glass of wine, darling. You must be absolutely knackered. You've been working far too hard lately, you know. You're hardly ever here.'

  'Honey, you're a wonderful little wife, you know that?' he said, relaxing under her sensitive ministrations, and swirling the pale liquid around in the glass before throwing it down in one. 'I knew I was on to a good thing when I met you.'

  'I try to be a good little wife,' she said dutifully, and knelt on the floor to massage his feet. 'I'm learning new things all the time.'

  'Aah,' Kevin sighed, stretching luxuriously, not hearing the extra sugar in his wife's tone. 'Is this part of what you learned at those classes?'

  'Uh-huh. This and much, much more.'

  He patted her head absently. Esther smiled secretively, and rose to serve the dinner.

  'Have you been shopping, Essie, honey? Did you manage to get me some new shirts?'

  'Sorry, darling, I was busy sorting out the garage. You know I've been meaning to do it for months. I'll get your shirts tomorrow. I'm intending to go shopping.'

  'Find anything interesting in the garage?'

  'An awful lot of rubbish and an army of spiders.'

  Kevin shuddered. He had a morbid fear of spiders, and if anything was calculated to keep him out of the garage, that was. If Esther wanted him to help out in there, no way. 'What are you cleaning the garage out for, anyway?'

  'I was thinking of turning it into a sort of utility room. You know we never bother to put the car in there, so we won't miss it.'

  'Won't that cost a lot?'

  'Apart from scrubbing it from head to toe, a lick of paint is all it needs, and I can do that myself. It'll be well worth the effort and will free up some kitchen space, make it easier for me to iron your shirts.'

  He glanced up and thought for a fleeting moment that Esther's tone had a slightly sarcastic note to it, but realised he must be mistaken; she wore her normal placid expression. Somehow, before they were married, she had been stronger, had more vitality. He couldn't help wondering where that had all gone. Still, one couldn't have everything. He grinned to himself; at least, not at home. Cleaning up the garage was a good idea; it kept Esther busy if nothing else, and the busier she was, the less she was likely to sit around and worry about where he was. He turned his attention to the perfectly roasted, if rather dry, potatoes. Yep, she was a good little wife all right.

  When he'd finished eating he slouched into the lounge, dropped into his favourite chair, stretched his legs, and interlocked his fingers behind his head. He smiled at Esther. 'You know, it's at times like this I really know how lucky I am to have you.'

  As Kevin wallowed in complacency, Esther glanced around the neat room and suddenly realised how sterile it all seemed. There was nothing of her here. Nothing of Kevin, either, when it came down to it. Just a perfect show home for when people called. Not that they very often did. He had few friends at work, and she seemed to have drifted from hers over the years.

  She had been feeling slightly fainthearted during the day, thinking that perhaps her plans were a bit drastic, but found her courage buoyed by the thought that she was saving their marriage. Another year or so down the line and it would simply be too late; there would be nothing left to save. She fetched his glass and flicked the television on.

  'Here, have some more wine and watch the match while I wash up. I recorded it for you, as you've been working so hard lately.'

  'You did? Honey, that was so thoughtful.' Recollecting what he had actually been doing, and knowing how much she hated football, he had the grace to look slightly guilty, but what the hell. It was nice to be pampered, and it was time he called it a day with Alicia; she really couldn't excite him any more.

  Esther looked back around the door, 'Oh, I'm just going to pop over to Jenny's for coffee. I promised her I'd go round for a chat, and just forgot about the time.'

  'That's fine, honey. See you later.'

  From the kitchen Esther watched Kevin through the open door. He really was a fine specimen by anybody's standards. Even now she recalled the thrill of attraction that gripped her when she'd first met him, and somehow he had grown even more sexy in the last couple of years. And she knew she was special to him; she had seen that cold arrogance with which he treated o
thers, and thanked God it wasn't ever directed at her. She knew he could be a right bastard with people he didn't like very much. But whatever he was like at work, when he was impressing the directors or wangling deals out of others, at home he was getting set in his ways, complacent as an old sofa.

  She felt her anger building at the sudden thought of that rather pretty young thing called Chrissie something-or-other who had accosted her at the business function. It didn't take much imagination to know what she and Kevin had been to each other at some time. Yet whatever that woman now had against Kevin, Esther didn't care any more. Madam Tisset's business card had been given to her in the true spirit of spite, but it wasn't going to wreck her marriage, it was going to save it, even if the manner of achieving it was going to be one hell of a shock to dear Kevin. Esther hummed as she washed up, and found herself getting very excited.

  Twenty minutes later, hands on hips, she surveyed her dearly beloved. Kevin would have been shocked at the expression on her face - had he been awake to see it. The potion Madam Tisset had given her had worked a treat. He was lolling back in the chair, arms draped over the edges, television forgotten, and the empty wine glass on the floor beneath his hand. Esther picked it up. 'Naughty boy,' she said softly, seeing the little damp patch of wine on the carpet. 'Madam is going to have to punish you for that.'