Dr Casswell's Plaything Read Free

Sarah was pressing herself forward, straining and desperate, trying to rub her glowing, wet sex against the smooth wooden frame of the chair.
    Eight and then nine – Casswell wondered how much longer Sarah’s beating could continue. The atmosphere in the garden room was strung as tight as a piano wire.
    Ten – and a final decisive blow cracked around the crowded room and reverberated through Sarah’s flushed, perspiring flesh. As if she knew it was the last stroke, she fell forward, sobbing hard, struggling to catch a breath.
    Behind her Amelia threw the whip onto the stage and undid her victim’s handcuffs, then dropping onto her hands and knees she crawled across the stage. The submissive pose was completely at odds with the erotic scenario that preceded it.
    Casswell wondered if the entertainment was over and looked away just as a man in a long dressing gown stepped onto the stage beside Sarah and Amelia. He looked back, and realised with a shock that the man was Oliver Turner. Amelia slithered across the floor and rubbed against her master’s legs, a feline dripping with sexual promise.
    Amongst the crowd was a low murmur of recognition and approval. Their host smiled with all the warmth of a basking shark and stroked Amelia’s pale blonde locks. She purred with delight, and still nosing and rubbing against his thighs, undid his red brocade robe. It fell open to reveal that Oliver was naked beneath, his great cock arched and angry. Under the spotlight he looked better endowed than Casswell remembered.
    Amelia cradled his phallus in her fingers and began to suckle at the end where a single teardrop of excitement glistened. She sucked greedily, hungry to pleasure him, with one hand lifting to cradle and caress his heavy scrotum.
    The old man’s expression was impassive as the lithe blonde stroked herself into a frenzy, long fingers dipping into the wet ripe confines of her sex, then using her juices to smear over Oliver’s cock and balls. Moans of intense pleasure hummed out from the junction of her lips where they closed around his throbbing phallus.
    Sarah Morgan sat in the shadows, and only her eyes betrayed her passion, as bright as a flare in the intense darkness. Until she met him, she could have had no idea that things like this ever went on.
    Amelia started to pull away from Oliver, breathless now, but before she could her master grabbed tight hold of her hair and pulled her closer. She snorted and wriggled as if fighting to be free of him, saliva trickling down her chin as he forced her to bring him to release. Between her legs, her fingers still worked their own particular magic, meaning that she too was on the great spiral of orgasm.
    Casswell could sense their growing pleasure despite Oliver’s apparently unfeeling expression. Suddenly the man let out a throaty sigh and jerked his cock from between Amelia’s lips; a great arc of semen flooding out over her body, splashing across her face and breasts.
    At almost the same instant Amelia began to twitch and shudder, drowning in a great well of orgasm as her fingers worked in the sopping pit between her legs. Beyond the heady images of the couple on stage, the room was draped with a strange stillness and quiet.
    Amelia collapsed at Oliver’s feet, his cock, wet from her kisses, still jutted above her like a sword. To Casswell’s delight, Sarah climbed off the chair and crawled across the stage towards the couple – her action as erotic and glorious as it was unexpected. Dropping onto all fours beside the prone body of the exquisite blonde she began to lick the glistening semen off her breasts. Crouched over Amelia, open and excited, her richly fragrant sex was an invitation Casswell was tempted to take up. But as the thought formed in his head, one of Turner’s other guests climbed up onto the stage. The man was in evening dress, but it took him no more than a few seconds to undress, kneel and place his erect penis into Sarah’s sex. Casswell looked