Helena

Helena
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ISBN:  9781780801124
Author:  Leo Barton
Word Count:  43,765
Format:  eBook

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Deceived and EnslavedDeceived and Enslaved
Latin SubmissionLatin Submission
The MaestroThe Maestro


Everything was blanked but ecstasy: there was no consciousness, no Gregory, no London, no Freddie, no Helena, just this sweet heat searing my skin, my flesh, my consciousness.

In this quality erotica for women by Leo Barton, from her strict religious upbringing as a clergyman's daughter and then wife, Helena is liberated by an enigmatic Italian who teaches her to explore the needs and desires of her own body. He leads her to the brink of both pain and pleasure, transforming the timid girl into a most voluptuous woman.

We departed early in the morning and Jean-Claude drove us straight along the warm, sundrenched coast to a little harbour where his yacht was moored. We lunched and the effect of the wine made me feel a little sleepy, once we had sailed out of the distance of the shore. I had changed into my little bikini and was taking in the sun, lying on a lounger, my eyes and my mind half-closed, the former against the brightness of the sun, the latter against the turmoil in my head. I was thinking about the immediate future, of Gregory's return and the necessity of preparing a damage limiting speech for all our sakes. I slept deeply to wake to a golden sunset falling over the harbour. I looked for Simone but she had gone.
   That night, Freddie, was it planned? I never asked Jean-Claude or Simone whether it had been preconceived that she should go off alone and leave me to be pleasured by the two men. And how, Freddie!
   I was wearing that sumptuous black halter-neck that I bought in Kensington that you said you admired so much. We dined alfresco, on the beautiful balcony overlooking the sea. We stayed that night in the villa of some friend of Jean-Claude. Frank had made the most delightful meal, succulent fish and fresh herbs.
   The conversation was light, occasionally we found ourselves discussing you, at other times the seeming vast superiority of the continent to smug little England. The atmosphere was so congenial, the luxurious wine glided down my throat, my skin seemed to tingle with anticipation. I could not believe that we would all just go to bed to sleep without anything occurring between the three of us, especially as Simone wasn't there.
   "Helene," Jean-Claude began.
   I tilted my head and gazed into those beautiful eyes of his.
   "We want to experiment a little with you tonight." A brief glance passed between the two men.
   "Experiment? What kind of experiment?"
   "We'd rather it was a surprise, but you know that you trust us, and that we would never do anything to harm you. You do know that don't you?"
   "Of course." I did know it. I trusted these two men implicitly and I knew that I would willingly give myself up to them in just about any way that they desired. The thought of somehow experimenting with them made me very wet indeed.
   Jean-Claude began clearing the table as Frank took my hand and trailed his finger first on the outstretched material that covered my breast, before slipping the tips of his fingers inside my dress, and then my brassiere, tweaking hard on my already swollen nipples. All the time he stared into my face, watching to see how I would react as he pinched hard on my nipples.
   Eventually he began speaking: "We would like you to do everything that we tell you. Absolutely everything! We want you to submit to us, even if we ask you to do crazy things. Think of it as a kind of game, a role-play if you like. Will you do that for us, Helena?"
   The idea seemed so shocking, that I would totally give myself up to anything at all that they wanted me to do. I felt my heart race with excitement.
   "What do you want me to do?" I asked in breathy anticipation.
   "Well, first, we would like you to bend over the table.
   I must admit that I actually gulped at the proposition.
   "And another thing, Helena, we don't want you to say anything at all unless we ask you to do so."
   As Frank pulled his hand away after tweaking me again hard on the nipple, I stood up, noticing that Jean-Claude had also returned from the kitchen and was staring lustily at me with his intoxicatingly penetrative eyes.
   Oh, Freddie! How can I even begin to explain the excitement that seemed to pulse through my whole body! Thinking of these two handsome men staring at me as I bent over the table until my breasts pressed against the polished wood of the table, and my bottom plumped up before their eyes. I felt their hot gaze on me as I looked dreamily into the darkness of the distant waves.
   It was Frank who pulled up the hem of my dress until my panty-clad bottom was revealed before him. He gently ran his fingers along the cleft of my bottom before prodding his finger into my anus through the silky material of my underwear. I wanted to turn my head to look at the two men, but something told me instinctively that I was not permitted to do so.
   My panties were firmly tugged down. I thought again of my childhood fantasy with Terrence, but it didn't matter this time if they saw how excited I was. My panties were very moist by then. I lifted up my stiletto heels to aid their removal.
   In my dreaming, wild imagination I had never anticipated what they were about to do next. Then came the swish of a cane through the air before the crack of it on my firmed bottom flesh. I jolted upright, emitted not a scream but a whine, before I had even sensed the burning heat of pain the cane had made on my buttocks.
   Hadn't this been one of my oldest fantasies, Freddie? How did they know? I had never talked to them about it before. Of that I was sure. Maybe they had assumed from my behavior my own submissive tendencies.
   Just as in my ancient fantasies with Terrence, the pain suffused to a warm burning glow before I received another firm stroke of correction. Isn't that what it is called, Freddie, correction? That was how it felt too, as if somehow in this blatantly masochistic act I was somehow correcting myself of all those errors of timidity and half-heartedness.
   "You like that, Helene, don't you?" Jean-Claude asked me, and I could tell from the breathiness of his voice that it had been he who had administered the strokes on me.
   "Oh yes," I said, my voice barely above an enthusiastic whisper.
   "Would you like me to hit you again?"
   "Oh yes," I replied equally breathily.
   The cane came down again on the meat of my bottom.
   "OH!" I screamed in my perverse delight. Again, "Oh! Oh!" as I was caned twice more.
   This time I knew what they had planned for me as I felt Frank stretch my buttocks apart, revealing the little hole of my anus opening up before their eager eyes.
   The stroke this time was incredible, right across the crater of my anus, the pain immense, shot through me, my voice wailed into the empty night. I felt weak with pained excitement. They had told me that I had to trust them, that I couldn't say anything, and I knew that they would be incredibly disappointed with me if I was suddenly to tell them that they had to stop. I couldn't do that, Freddie. It seems incredible doesn't it, but I would have felt that I was letting them down. There was something else, too, Freddie. Part of me - I suspect it was the essential part - didn't want them to stop. I wanted them to take me to the limit of pain, to even go beyond it.
   Another crack of the cane!
   "OH!" I whimpered again. My whole bottom was stinging with the pain.
   I felt Frank's hands on me, untying my halter-neck dress, and then liberating my firm and heaving breasts from my brassiere.
   "Now kneel on the floor," Jean-Claude commanded.
   It was almost disappointing to do so. They hadn't taken me to the limit yet.
   "Put your hands behind your back."
   I passively did so, feeling the silken scarves being wound around my wrists then fastened in a tight knot that I knew I could not untie without their help.
   As my wrists were being fastened tightly together, my eyes stared at Frank as I watched him disrobe until he was completely naked, his majestic cock in full erection.
   The cane lashed me on my bottom again. I knew what the game was this time, what exactly they expected me to do. Using only my knees I was to move towards Frank's cock and sink my mouth onto its pulsating head, while Jean-Claude caned me from behind.
   Frank positioned himself on the floor, so that my bottom was plumped up to Frank's delicious view and the mighty thwack of the came.
   How exquisite a sensation this was, to slide my ruby mouth along Frank's slicked tool while Jean-Claude administered his firm punishment. Frank was grabbing me hard by the crown of my head, pushing me further onto him, until my lips almost reached the base of his shaft as Jean-Claude increased the force of each blow of the cane.
   Frank felt that he was about to come so I eased the pressure of the grip my mouth had on him, until he had eased me off him altogether. I tongued him, dragging the tip along the length of his shaft before licking and then sucking on his balls.
   After a few moments he placed my mouth firmly onto him again. This must have been a sign to Jean-Claude. Maybe they passed a knowing glance at one another I don't know, but that was when I felt Jean-Claude's slicked fingers slide into my anus. He slid his fingers further and further up, twisting the tips around, pressing hard on the stretched flesh. He was greasing my bottom, preparing me for what was about to come.
   It did not last long. I felt his thick helmet press against the taut surround of my anus, before he gained access to my most intimate place. It felt as if my whole body had been spiked on him. Both of his legs were placed either side of my hips as he lowered himself harder and harder into me. Oh, it was such a stunning experience, to have his hot burning cock stuffed up my bottom like that, pressing out the tight flesh. It hurt, Freddie, it hurt me so much, but at the same time I was so excited, and the pain felt so exquisite. As Frank roughly pulled my mouth harder onto his cock, Jean-Claude fucked me mercilessly, as if I was some mere object, a fleshy toy.
   "Do you like that Helena?" Jean-Claude panted. "Do you like my hard cock up your ass?"
   "Mmm," I moaned, my mouth full of Frank's cock.
   "Do you want it harder? Do you want my hard cock to fuck your ass harder?"
   Not being able to speak, I simply nodded. I wanted him to fuck me so hard, to hurt me, to make me squeal with pained delight. His tensed hips slapped against my burning skin. He clenched my upper thighs tighter and fucked me in the ass remorselessly.
   First Frank shot his load into my gaping mouth, holding my head firmly so that all I could do was swallow every drop of his sperm, and then I felt the burning heat of Jean-Claude's jism as he orgasmed inside me. My muscles contracted immediately and I felt one of the most intense orgasms that I had ever felt in my life.

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