Given to the Club by Emily Tilton
Chapter 23
Helena
“By all means,” Gerard said. “She should have it again while she’s still bound in place, I think. Since you proposed the idea, sir, you shall avail yourself of this tight pussy.”
“Look at me, you young whore,” said the magistrate, who I realized had taken a stand to my left side. Surprised, I obeyed, to see that the magistrate had begun to remove his clothing.
It was, I realized with a jump of my heart in my chest, the first time I had seen a man disrobe. When Gerard had taken me in the chamber of pleasure, I had kept my eyes forward, my face burning. Now, with my guardian’s hand still between my thighs as I saw Justice Warren’s broad, bare chest and hard stomach come into view, and then his even harder manhood, my cheeks burned even hotter as I whimpered with need. Something about watching it happen, about seeing the handsome older man’s stern face and his taut body as he prepared to fuck me, brought on the start of another orgasm. I shuddered, and part of me wanted to close my eyes, but the thought that Justice Warren might punish me for it only made the intensity of that approaching climax seem greater.
Then, to my dismay, I felt Gerard turn down the governor. The orgasm receded, and, desperate, I could not help riding my guardian’s hand harder, bouncing shamefully atop the saddle, though to no avail.
“Oh, no,” I sobbed. “Please… sir.” I looked at the naked magistrate, watched him stroke his cock in his hand. Gerard took his hands away, moved out of my sight.
Justice Warren said, “You turned her down, eh?”
“Indeed,” replied Gerard. “Six, for now. I’ll turn her up as a reward if you say she’s a good fuck. Perhaps she’ll even earn another climax.”
I felt my face crumple as my hips jerked lewdly at the mere thought of that promise. Justice Warren began to move to take a position behind me.
“Do you think you can learn to be a good fuck, you treasonous little whore?” he asked in an amused voice. “You’ll be a very valuable acquisition for your master, if you can please his friends as you should.”
I felt his right hand on the belt, keeping my backside in place as he put the head of his cock to the aching cavern where I needed something, anything. I wanted Gerard’s cock there so badly, yes, but suddenly I understood in a hot rush my essential whorishness, because I also wanted Justice Warren’s cock, and Mr. Miniver’s—and Jones’. I wanted the manhood of any other gentlemen, or servant, as well.
I needed a fuck, and I wanted to be a good fuck for the men my master chose for me. The knowledge that I had given up my secret, and it had done no harm, seemed to have released me at last to yield to the needs Gerard had discovered in me.
In what these men said, and in particular in what Justice Warren had said a moment before, I thought I could hear hints of some unexpected life as an acquisition. The humiliating idea seemed to take hold of me, to make my pussy ache even more, so that I felt the governor control me continuously, my bottom squirming as I tried to impale myself on the magistrate’s cock despite the firm hold on the belt that kept me in place, waiting for his thrust.
I cried out with need, and I heard all three gentlemen chuckle. As the heat suffused my face at that masculine amusement, Justice Warren pressed the head of his manhood inside me, and I gave a soft moan, thinking he would drive it deep inside me in just a moment.
Instead he murmured, “Do you need this, Helena? Do you need this cock?”
I whimpered. I didn’t want to say it. Justice Warren put his other hand on the belt, so that he controlled me completely. He began to withdraw his penis, as if I had lost the privilege of his fucking me.
“Yes!” I cried, so ashamed and yet so aroused. “Please, sir. Please.”
The magistrate wasted no more time. He used the leverage of the belt to impale my vagina at full length, and he began to fuck me very hard, as I cried out with the muted pleasure and the need that would not resolve itself, thanks to the governor’s horrid yet effective operation.
“Oh, she’s tight,” the magistrate said. “And she’s learning to move well on the shaft. Turn her up a notch, if you would.”
That single notch, for just a moment, made me think I would climax, and I sobbed at the increase in my ecstasy. Quickly I understood that all pleasures were relative, though—and I grasped again just how great a pleasure awaited me if I could earn my master’s greatest reward.
Mr. Miniver took Justice Warren’s place, and I hardly even noticed. I felt the magistrate’s hardness leave me, and then my former suitor’s slightly stronger thrusting, his slightly thicker cock, fucking me just as hard as the other man had.
“Is she doing well?” Gerard asked from somewhere in the distance, over my sobbing moans as the second gentleman fucked me.
“Certainly,” Mr. Miniver replied, his voice sounding thick with his pleasure.
My guardian turned up the governor again, and again for a few moments I thought my body would explode with pleasure.
A new voice seemed to ride over that wave of delight, then.
“You rang, Professor?”
It took me a long time, as it seemed to me, while Mr. Miniver took his hardness out of my pussy, to remember the voice. When I did, I couldn’t suppress a cry of mingled shame and helpless arousal.
“Yes, Jones. Would you like a turn?”
“I certainly would, sir,” the doorkeeper replied. “May I come in that sweet cunny, by your leave? I should like the young lady to have my seed to remember me by.”
I turned, to see that Jones had already begun to remove his clothing. My lips parted to see the taut body he revealed: even the club’s livery had showed him to be a burly man, one who had perhaps cut timber in Prosperia’s forests—my world’s pride and joy—in his youth, but without any clothing on his muscular, broad-chested form made my brow furrow and my cheeks grow hot.
He alone of the four naked men in the chamber of discipline had a few white hairs among the black upon his chest and around his enormous cock. The sight of a truly older man—though Jones was quite clearly still in his masculine prime—made me feel faint with a different version of the same sort of wanton desire I felt for Gerard and for Justice Warren. In that moment I understood, with another flush of mortification at the humiliating thought, that somehow I had never realized one part of my true need: as independent a young woman as I wanted to be—and as independent as I had made myself—I still craved a strong man to take care of me in every sense. I needed a strong man, a guardian, to teach me and, yes, even to discipline me when I made such mistakes as had led me here.
The doorkeeper smiled at me with a wicked, hungry smile that still seemed to have in it a respect and tenderness that warmed my heart as well as my pussy. Next to him, Gerard stood, smiling as well, his eyes seeming to tell of his own comprehension of precisely the knowledge I had just grasped: he knew my needs, and the silver controller he had in his hand would help him satisfy them.
“Don’t make a fuss, now, miss,” Jones said, as he advanced, his huge, hard penis in his right hand. “I know it’s big, but it will feel very good once you get used to it.”
“Helena,” said my guardian, “I wish you to consider how lucky a girl you are to live on a world as merciful as Prosperia—not only will your treason be forgiven you, but with me as your master here at the club, and perhaps someday something more…”
My lips parted, and then I swallowed hard. Could he mean what I thought he must? A different sort of marriage, one suitable to my particular character, but a marriage nonetheless and a way back into my world’s society. Even as my guardian spoke, the difference between me and a more conventional young woman took form: Jones had laid his left hand upon the belt and put the head of his enormous manhood at the opening where I needed that throbbing, hard tool so very much.
My eyes, however, had gone to Gerard’s face, and I saw there that yes, my guardian spoke of a sort of life I had never imagined, because I hadn’t even understood myself. Yes, he had the controller of my governor, as he should. But unlike the sort of bride I had thought I would inevitably become, I wouldn’t have to choose a single suitor.
The doorkeeper’s other hand moved to the belt, and then, with merciful slowness that nevertheless made me turn my head forward and down, made me arch my back as I tried to accommodate his thickness and length, he drove his cock into my pussy.
“I’m going to turn her up all the way,” Gerard said. “Helena, you will come on Jones’ penis, now.”
It happened only a few seconds later, the first time the enormous penis slammed into me, and the doorkeeper’s sinewy lap came up against my punished bottom. My climax began, and I screamed in its throes for what seemed long minutes. All the while, Jones murmured in my ear, his voice a soft growl.
“There you go, miss. Such a fine young lady. Such a nice ride in a tight cunny. There you go.”
I could feel how this shameful, dirty talk inflamed his passion as much as mine. I could feel his virility increase inside me, his penis growing even harder, even bigger. I sobbed at the sensation, and came again, and then suddenly Jones grew rigid and held still. He grunted once as he shot his seed into my womb, and then he patted my flank like a satisfied equestrian.
“Good girl,” the doorkeeper said. “Professor, I congratulate you, and I thank you kindly for this gracious favor.”
“Would you release her, please,” Gerard said, “before you go? You may put her on her hands and knees on the mat. We’re going to have her together.”
“Of course, sir,” Jones answered, beginning to pull his penis from me. I whimpered at the sensation, the aftershocks of my climaxes still traveling through my muscles like sparks of electricity threatening to set me alight again.
I felt, distantly, his strong hands on the clips of the leather cuffs, then on the straps that bound the belt to the punishment horse. At long last I let go of the horse’s mane. Everything seemed at a remove from reality—and not in any way a frightening remove, but rather, with Jones in charge of me and Gerard directing him, a wanton and yet delightful remove. The doorkeeper picked me up as if I were a feather, and carried me a few steps over to a place where the hardwood floor had been made as soft as a cloud and yet as firm as a board, it seemed to me.
The perfect surface on which to have a young lady,my mind said from far away. My thoughts seemed to have ceased to rebel. Something in the prospect of an unconventional marriage to my guardian… or in the assurance that I had not actually betrayed my ‘friends’ in the resistance… or perhaps even in the terrible comeuppance I had received… or all of it together had left my heart, my mind, and my body in harmony for what felt like the first time in the long months since Gerard had first awakened me over his desk.
He, my guardian, my handsome bearded protector, my master, came to kneel beside me on the mat. He put his hand on my bottom, on my pussy, and he leaned down to kiss me gently. Then he drew his lips away and looked into my eyes.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
I bit my lip, my brow creasing hard.
“Will you… sir…?” I looked my plea into his eyes.
Gerard smiled. “Yes, my darling. I’ll leave your governor all the way up.”
My heart leapt with a sort of shameful, shameless joy. I wondered if someday, if I’d been terribly naughty, my master might have three men fuck me… one of them Jones… so hard, and with my governor turned all the way down. Not to zero, but to one, perhaps… because I had to learn.
I shuddered at the tiny fantasy, my hips jerking as it made the walls of my vagina clench. For a moment I tried to understand how that could possibly be, that the thought of no pleasure could create such a need for pleasure. Then I put it down to the effect of the governor.
My governor. Gerard’s governor.
Gerard slid under me. My guardian took my poor punished bottom in his hands. He lowered me, and I cried out as I had his hardness again where I needed it most. Dimly I sensed Mr. Miniver and Justice Warren coming to stand nearby, but I had closed my eyes so that I could feel the cock in my pussy.
“So lovely,” I heard Jacob Miniver say. “She’s better this way than as a virgin bride, isn’t she?”
“Indubitably,” said Justice Warren.
I sobbed, riding up and down, riding my guardian almost as I had ridden the punishment horse, my bottom in his hands, as he spread the whipped cheeks so that Mr. Miniver could crouch behind and press his own cock against my smallest place.
Not so small anymore, I thought with a flash of heat to my cheeks. It felt tiny, though, and it made me scream as my former suitor slowly pushed inside while Gerard held me in place with only the head of his erection in my pussy.
“Oh, heavens,” I moaned. “Oh, please…”
Justice Warren, whose penis tasted of the antiseptic cleanser I had seen on a side table, stood before me to use my mouth. The men between my legs began to move me in a more and more urgent rhythm. I cried out around the manhood that thrust over my tongue and deep against my palate, and I felt fuller than I thought a girl should ever be. I began to come, and in the grip of the many climaxes that followed like trees falling in a forest, knocking one another down until the whole glade lay vanquished, I seemed to disappear entirely into a whirlwind of pleasure.
They fucked me and fucked me, and at last they, too, came inside me: first Justice Warren, and then Mr. Miniver, and then finally Gerard, his hands still on the little bottom he had caned in his study. He held me atop him, immobile as I felt his cock spurt, and then he rolled me over so that he could look down upon me, the way I imagined a traditional bridegroom might have done. He kissed me tenderly. The other gentlemen had, I gathered, left the chamber of discipline at some point. I imagined them back in the morning room, reading their papers, and I almost giggled.
“Am I a good girl now?” I asked him, when he broke the kiss.
“You were always a good girl,” Gerard replied, smiling. “And you were always a little whore, who needed to be given to the club. I admit I didn’t realize it the first time you came to see me—or not fully.”
“You whipped me,” I said, making my voice petulant. “Even though I was a good girl.”
“Yes, I did,” my guardian replied. “You needed it. Perhaps it made you commit treason, but you did need it, didn’t you?”
I bit my lip, and then I told the truth. “Yes, sir.”
The End