subject for such ministrations as Eleanor Roosevelt or Queen Victoria.
'Thank you, miss. You are most competent.' An unruffled Amity rose and tidied her hair. 'I cannot recall when I have enjoyed myself more.'
'You’ve got a super clit.' Her mistress’s tribute was sincere. 'Do you want me to nibble your nipples until you come round again?' 'Most kind of you, miss. But I won’t be greedy. I’m most anxious to make myself available to Miss Dorinda’s skill.'
'You don’t deserve her, Amity. Not after that trick.'
'Quite so, miss. I am most cognisant of good fortune.'
'Don’t be so stuffy. You want your quim eaten and your nips nipped. Don’t sound like the chairman of the board.'
Amity eyed Dorinda with pure hunger. 'May I arrange myself, miss?'
There was only the wooden chest within the range of Dorinda’s chains. The captive girl motioned to it and gave her best barber shop smile.
'Make her squeal, love.' From Terry it was almost an order.
Amity squealed.
It was long after the squeals had lapsed into moans and the moans into gasps and the gasps into a replete silence that there came the knocks on the door. When it swung inward it disclosed the astounding vision of the perfect butler carrying a large tray.
'Refreshments ladies?' Hislop was at his best.
The butler was not an old man. He was simply a young man born with dignity of middle age. Dorinda had a momentary vision of Hislop and Amity in bed. She felt sure their passion would be contained within the confines of protocol.
'Hislop, you’re a darling!' Terry easily forgave.
'A pleasure, miss. Amity and I are most appreciative of what you are doing for us.'
'Want do you mean… us?'
'I am sure, miss, you understand I am included in the, errr, the activities. I am sure Amity…'
'You mean you expect to shove your thingummy into us?' Terry had no illusions.
'Yes, miss. But not, if I may say so, in the orthodox manner. I would appreciate a deviation from the norm.'
'Not up our…?'
'No miss. I have never approved of what you were about to mention. It is vulgar and best confined to the working classes. I had in mind the employment of your lips and tongue.'
'You want us to suck your cock?'
If Terry was seeking to shame him, she failed.
'Thank you, miss. You are most concise.'
'What have you got to eat and drink?'
'There are sandwiches, miss. Some excellent sherry and a pot of coffee.'
'You are a jewel, Hislop. Do I gnaw at you before or after?'
'I would suggest after your own contribution. I am sure I would find an intermission beneficial before yielding to Miss Dorinda’s charms.'
'Re-charge your batteries?'
'A graphic expression, miss.'
For the girl it had become a game, an intriguing game. For Dorinda it was pure farce. Absurd, ridiculous. But happening!
'How would you like me, Hislop? On my knees with you standing? Or would you like my kisses sitting down?'
'I would prefer to stand with you, miss. I will sit on the next occasion.'
'You mean, you’ll be to weak to stand,' Terry giggled. 'Don’t touch a thing, Hislop. Leave everything to the young mistress.'
Dorinda watched this one. Knowing that she herself had to provide the encore she felt the weight of her chains more heavier than ever. The thing asked of her was trivial enough. There was no emotional involvement. Yet there had been a steely compulsion… Amity had been implacable. A sense of true slavery encompassed the chained girl. She was being coerced into a sexual submission that would probably be disagreeable. The full humility would be demanded. She would give it. But without love it became frightening. A girl chained as she was chained had no will. She must obey.
Terry did everything with a flourish, superbly. Within the tolerance of her tether she knelt before the man she must serve and slowly unzipped his fly. Each motion was studied as though a camera was recording her performance. Hislop visibly quivered as she reached in extracted a most rigid member. Whilst the butler looked into some far horizon of his own she enveloped the engorged maleness with her lips and gave it her full attention. Hislop was taken to another world.
Dorinda and Amity watched enthralled.
'The Portuguese sardines are much the best. They make an excellent sandwich,' Hislop stated afterwards. He munched with relish.
'After that gollop I got from you I’m not sure I have any room,' Terry complained mischievously, but took a sandwich. 'Fellatio and fish. Quite appropriate.'
Dorinda wished she possessed such resilience.
'I must say that association with you, young ladies, is a real experience.'
'How d’you know Dorinda won’t bite your knob off?' Terry inquired.
'Miss Matson is a lady.' Hislop’s voice was frigid with disapproval.
'But honestly, Hislop old boy, you fellows do take an awful chance when you stick that thing in a girl’s mouth. You didn’t know it, but I was tempted to bite yours.'
'You are joking, miss.'
'No really. If I had something like that attached to me I’d be dammed if I’d stick it in anyone’s mouth. What would you have done of you’d suddenly found yourself minus knob?'
'I fear, miss, this is an unprofitable exploration. May I offer a glass of sherry?'
'You know what you can do with your sherry, don’t you? Sherry is just an excuse for not providing a decent drink. Give me coffee.' Terry cocked an eye at Amity. 'You are going to chain us decently?'
'Of course. One good turn deserves another, miss.'
'Will you want me to service Hislop regularly, darling?' She turned to the butler. 'I could be under the table while you were polishing the silver. Darling Dorinda could milk you whenever Mark isn’t looking.'
'Hislop is not seeking excess.' Amity’s voice was acid.
'Would you like to whip me, Hislop?'
The silence was electric. Dorinda sensed that Terry’s insouciance had touched a nerve. With a stricken look of do or die, Hislop said very simply: 'I think I would give my life for such a privilege.'
His words hung there in the dungeon. Etched in time. Immortal. A declaration.
Terry’s young eyes widened in understanding. 'Poor Hislop,' she said softly. 'I’ll let you. You can whip me. There! Feel better?'
'Hislop is fully occupied,' said Amity with decision.
'I suppose I am,' Hislop sighed. His glimpse of heaven had been snatched away.
Terry’s surprised gaze switched to Amity. 'Don’t you let him whip you? You should, y’know.'
'I cannot regard it as one of the acceptable sports, miss.' Amity like the rock of Gibraltar, if it could talk.
'Would you mind if he whipped me?'
'I would regard that as an ambition above his station, miss.'
'How about Dorinda then? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind once. You know. AS charitable act. She’s not your employer.'
'It would establish a precedent, miss. Quite wrong.'
Terry’s brow cleared. Her eyes shone. 'There’s only one answer then. He can whip you.'
Amity flinched. 'I do not care to be whipped.'
'You’re a silly ass,' Terry dismissed her and turned to Hislop. 'Give me another sandwich, darling, and then go
