Stephanie's Trial Read Free

once to look over his shoulder, down over his
plunging buttocks and into the mirror beyond. What was the Baron
doing? He would be able to see everything, see the slave's cock
ploughing into her, his balls strapped tightly in black leather,
its shaft running with her juices. He would see the way her cunt,
the lips of her cunt made thin now by being stretched, closed
around the cock, just like a mouth, sucking it in. He would see her
legs, up-ended, the suspenders pulling at the nylons, her feet
still crammed into the black high heels. Was he wanking while he
watched, bringing himself off in time to James's strokes? The idea
sent another thrill coursing through Stephanie's body and she let
her head fall back onto the bed.
    'Fuck me,' she
said unnecessarily, just wanting to hear the words.
    She could
think of nothing but her pleasure now. The engine of her orgasm had
started to turn, a giant flywheel moving slowly at first but
inexorably, gathering momentum until it spun faster and faster with
unstoppable power, propelling her down deeper and deeper into her
own body and her own senses, until all she could feel was herself
and there was nothing in the world but the exquisite sensations of
her climax.
    As she came
she felt the head of James's cock buried against her womb,
hammering at it relentlessly, the curve of his pubic bone hard
against her clitoris, the neat package of his strapped-up balls
tight against her arse. It all made her come, driving her orgasm on
and on, extending it, making it go on for so long she thought it
would never stop.
    And just as
she thought it was subsiding she felt James's body tense, his
muscles lock, arching his body like a bow to get his cock even
deeper into her as his spunk suddenly spat uncontrollably from his
spasming shaft. The feeling of his spunk filling her renewed her
orgasm, made it peak again, threw her nerves into yet another rigor
of pleasure.
    Eventually,
after what seemed like forever, her body released its grip on her
mind, sensation gave way to thought, and she opened her eyes.
James's cock had softened and was squeezed out of her cunt. Its
departure produced a shudder in her, an aftershock, an echo of the
shattering orgasm she had just experienced. It was extraordinary,
she thought as James rolled off her, how her sexuality had grown
and developed. Before she had started to plumb the depths of her
sexual psyche, not having the slightest idea of how fathomable it
would be, before she had strangely, unaccountably decided she must
take a journey through the highways and byways of her own
sexuality, a personal odyssey, she had had virtually nothing to do
with sex. She had experienced it, but it had not moved her or
bothered her or even interested her for much of the time.
    All that had
changed, changed suddenly and dramatically through two men. Martin,
whom she had wanted more than any man in her life up to that point,
had shown her that sex was more than a physical act and introduced
her for the first time to an undergrowth of sex, to fantasy and the
pleasures of the imagination. With Martin she had experienced
pleasure she had never even dreamt of. Like the lightning that
brought Frankenstein's monster to life, Martin's mind as well as
his body had shocked Stephanie into sexual awareness. But if it had
been Martin who'd opened the door for her, it was Devlin who had
given her the means and the opportunity to explore the corridors
and passages that lay beyond, the passages that led to where she
was today.
    Devlin had
brought her to the castle and the cellars. Devlin had allowed her
into his life and, in the end, wanted her to control it. Though he
had built the castle, though he had constructed the cellars and
staffed them with slaves from his vast empire, it had been
Stephanie, Stephanie's imagination, that had for the first time
given Devlin the sexual pleasure he craved. Stephanie was mistress
of the castle now and Devlin, for all his wealth and power, was her
hopeless, fawning