Oct 042006
 

Foxglove Manor was three stories of Southern Gothic inhospitality. Resembling a fortress more than a home, it stood surrounded by a moat of trees that grew uncomfortably close to the house, crowding in like soldiers forming ranks. Its tall dark-brown frame soaked in the fading light, a little of which reflected off the many narrow windows that were either outright opaque or tinted gray.

“Stewart! The house is huge!” Annette declared. There was an ugly accusation in the tone of her voice. Things had been kept from her, and she did not like it.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Stewart said with the easy manner of one who had been saying those words for a decade.

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Virginia Hershey shook her head and then stopped herself before her clients noticed. Insulting the clients directly was sure to be a no-no at Kendall & Sons. This was Virginia’s first assignment without any sort of supervision, and the young lawyer reminded herself to be on her best behavior. She didn’t have to like Stewart and Annette Foxglove; she just had to play nice for the next 12 hours or so.

“Stewart, why didn’t you tell me your aunt and uncle were so well off?” Annette demanded. The tall woman hugged herself as she waited for the answer. A strand of blond hair came loose from the immaculate coif arranged on her head. Annette hadn’t noticed it yet, but Virginia wondered if the wife was going to blame her husband for that as well. The woman would have been beautiful if it weren’t for the constant sneer on her face. Virginia suppressed a giggle as she imagined the woman haranguing her husband during sex.

“Remember, dear,” Stewart began lazily. He started to clean his glasses so he wouldn’t have to face his wife’s disdainful eyes. “My family didn’t have anything to do with Uncle Jonathan and his family. Dad said that Jonathan was a cruel older brother and that he was happy when Grandpa disowned him. Dad wouldn’t even tell me why Grandpa disowned him. I was surprised to find that he lived so close to me. If it weren’t for that car accident that killed both him and Aunt Eleanor, we would never have known they existed.

“You can hardly blame me for not knowing that Jonathan did quite well for himself. For that matter, I don’t even know why he left everything to me.”

Virginia waited to see if Annette would blame her timid husband, anyway. Stewart seemed like a nice enough man, but his deference to Annette was a little creepy. The man was a head shorter than his wife and already balding. His short, thin brown hair, hunched shoulders and emerging gut reminded Virginia of those sad professors who’d haunted her old school. It was as if Annette were draining the vitality out of her husband. Virginia was prepared to like the man, but she kept catching him leering at her legs. He had already made a joke about her last name and being sweet. It would just be a matter of time before he made a pass at her using a candy-bar reference. The slender brunette found herself wishing she hadn’t worn a skirt today.

The haughty wife and the small husband paused before approaching the house. Virginia had seen it earlier in the week, but it was still quite the sight. They stood there quietly for a few minutes as they absorbed the sight of Foxglove Manor.

Annette turned her annoyance to their lawyer chaperone.

“This is insane,” she said. “Ms. Hershey, are there at least any servants to wait on us tonight?

“No,” Virginia said. She hated how timid her voice sounded compared to Annette’s. “Everyone on the staff left right after your uncle’s accident. I tried to contact them, but they disappeared rather quickly. Most of them even refused the large amounts of money that were left to them.”

“Really?” Annette said. “Where did that money go if they refused it?” A flush of color appeared on the tanned blonde’s cheeks despite the cold of the October afternoon.

“Well, at their refusal, it reverts back to you along with the rest of the $3.8 million,” Virginia said.

“If we fulfill our obligations first,” Stewart interjected. “Remember, dear, we won’t see a penny until we do as Uncle Jonathan asks and spend a night in Foxglove Manor. I suspect the man didn’t want us to sell his home without at least giving it a chance.”

Annette snorted. “I already despise the place. Making us spend the night here and trusting us so little as to require that a lawyer watch us has put me in an unpleasant mood. I can see your uncle had more wealth than your small job at the university could provide, but it hardly excuses his bad manners.”

Virginia sighed, and this time, she didn’t care that both Stewart and Annette turned to look at her. This was going to be a long night, and it hadn’t even started yet. The will required them to spend from sunset to sunrise in Foxglove Manor, and Virginia could only hope that the three floors would give her space from the harridan and her pet.

“We should get inside,” Virginia said. “The sun is beginning to set, and I’d rather we were inside before dark as the will requests.”

She opened the double doors into the manor. The small man tried to take his wife’s hand, but she complained that his was too cold. There was a chill when they entered the foyer: The temperature was strangely colder inside than outside. Annette complained about turning on the heat, and Stewart mentioned something about microclimates. Virginia listened to them with a half-smile until both of them stopped and gaped in awe at the foyer.

She had wondered how long it would take them to notice the decorations. When Virginia had inspected Foxglove Manor earlier, it had taken three hours for her blush to fade. Little was known about the Foxgloves, but Virginia found it easy to guess that they were not shy people.

For one thing, there were the two marble nudes at the bottom of the staircase. The statues were of women, their hands and ankles bound to the bottom rung of the staircase. Their mouths hung open in decadent silent howls. Strange green symbols with a distinctly erotic shape were painted on the bellies of the statues. The detail of the statues was amazing and lifelike. Virginia thought the one of the left had nipples to die for, but the one on the right had better calves.

At first glance, the floor appeared to be laid with simple white tiles, but when your eyes rested on one, you noticed that there were faint illustrations on the tiles. Stewart noticed them first and actually bent down on one knee to examine the picture. His cheeks burned brightly, and he stood up quickly. Virginia remembered how shocked she had been to find an orgy on every tile.

Annette, meanwhile, had discovered the Oriental vase that held the umbrellas. The green pottery was beautifully painted with what at first appeared to be a domestic farming scene. It didn’t take long for the woman to notice that every person depicted on the vase was nude and wearing chains. Chained men pulled plows like oxen, while bound women were milked like cows. Annette’s gasp of understanding echoed through the quiet manor.

“What kind of sick house is this?” she said.

“I don’t know,” Stewart said. “I think it has character. I kind of like it.”

“Shut up, Stewart,” Annette said. “Well, Ms. Hershey, you’ve seen the rest of the house. Is it all decorated like a brothel?”

Virginia smiled. She was enjoying Annette’s discomfort. “No, I believe some of it is decorated like a dungeon, and one part looks like an Arabian harem.”

Stewart chuckled, and Annette silenced him with a glare. When Annette’s back was turned, he winked at Virginia. The lawyer barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

“Let’s survey the rest of the house,” Annette said. She let out a long sigh of disappointment followed by a fake smile. Virginia had seen that smile in courtrooms before. It was the smile of someone who wanted to communicate that they were being the better person, while inside, they thought you were a piece of refuse. Virginia returned the smile.

They performed a casual inspection of the kitchen. Annette was bored, but Stewart looked delighted with the abundance of appliances. Virginia was not surprised to discover that Annette didn’t cook. Stewart had to be forcefully pulled from the kitchen but not before promising to make a “sweet delight” later in honor of Ms. Hershey.

Next was what appeared to be a sitting room. Aside from a table, a full-length mirror and some bookshelves, it contained with some odd chairs. Two were very elegant, but the other three were of dubious purposes. The most suspicious chair had a wooden top on the back of the chair that resembled a pillory or stocks. Another had handcuffs permanently attached to the sides of the seat. ; a thick ebony phallus that made Stewart feel inadequate stuck up from its seat. The last odd chair had an open hole in the seat. Annette, for some reason, choose to focus on the last chair.

“Oh, God, I hope this isn’t some sort of sick bathroom toy!” she said.

“No, I think it’s connected to this cabinet,” Virginia said. She opened the cabinet doors to reveal a dozen whips and paddles hanging within.

“That would explain why the legs of the chair are adjustable,” Stewart said. “See, you can raise or lower the chair as you need.”

Annette glared at her husband until he stopped demonstrating the assets of the chair. Virginia amused herself by flipping through a book of fetish pictures that had been left on the coffee table. Stewart turned his attention to the collection of books on a shelf until he realized that all of them were concerned with various matters of the occult. He made several pointed comments about the superstitions of the elderly. Annette declared that the whole room was unsalvageable and would have to be redecorated.

The dining room was a different matter. The oak table that seated twelve was impressive, and the china cabinet filled with elegant silver was a real treasure, but the Foxgloves were a bit concerned about the other china cabinet, which held sterling silver chains and dog bowls. They were even more disturbed when Virginia reminded them that the former owners didn’t have dogs or cats. The look of distaste on Annette’s face reminded Virginia that life was worth living.

The strange centerpiece on the dining table fascinated Stewart. It was a green statue of a man bound in chains to a rock. The man sported an immense erection and was bound so that his erection was the highest point of the statue. The centerpiece was made of a porous material that was flaking onto the table. Stewart examined it for a few minutes before coming to a startled conclusion.

“Oh, my!” he exclaimed. “This is a rare depiction of the Rape of Eros! Scholars have been talking about this for years!. There are only three known artifacts depicting this scene, and none of them are as large as this piece!”

“Eros?” Virginia said. “You mean Cupid, right? I don’t remember a story of him being raped.”

Stewart stared at the statue as he answered. “It was mentioned in passing on a crumbling piece of pottery unearthed in Athens. Apparently, Hades and his wife, Persephone, chained Eros to a rock and had their way with him. There are clues on the pot that imply he might not have been so unwilling. It helped explain a few odd items that had been discovered over the years, but this, this statue is magnificent if it is authentic.”

“Is it valuable?” Annette asked.

“If it’s authentic,” Stewart said. “It’s a shame it appears to have some red and white stains on it. Why would they keep such an important piece on the dinner table where it could get dirty? I’ll call the college tonight and see if Professor Gheric can come over. He’d love to see this!”

Virginia shook her head. “Tomorrow. The will is quite specific that only you, your wife and a lawyer may be present tonight.”

Stewart scowled. Virginia was amused to see the first sign of real passion in the man. She still didn’t like the way he kept checking out her ass, but at least he had a spine. Even Annette refrained from browbeating him when he was admiring the statue.

Next was the game room. There were no odd statues or antiques to excite Stewart, but the obscene pictures on the billiard balls amused him. Annette was delighted by the chess set. The figures were mythological creatures performing lewd acts, but each piece appeared to be made of gold. Annette was sure that they would fetch a good price.

Their eyes were eventually drawn to the huge painting above the fireplace. It was of a striking pale woman with long black hair. Around her neck was a black leather collar complete with spikes. The only other apparel she was wearing were a gambler’s visor and diamond studs through her nipples. In one hand, she held a pool stick, and in the other, she held two dice. The painting was of photographic realism, which made her nudity all the more disturbing.

“Who is that?” Annette asked.

Virginia had been waiting for this. “I believe that is the chauffeur who was driving when the Foxgloves had their fatal accident. She died as well. The Foxgloves adored her. If she had survived the crash, she would have inherited everything.”

“What was her name?” Stewart asked. He was leering at the painting like he leered at Virginia’s legs: shamelessly.

Virginia had been waiting for that. . “According to court records, she had her name legally changed to ‘Painslut’ five years ago.”

Stewart blushed, and Annette simply glared.

“It comes down tomorrow,” Annette declared. Noticing that her husband was still staring at the painting, she added, “Stewart, I’m hungry. Can you start dinner?”

“But, dear, I wanted to tour the rest of the house with you,” he said.

Annette folded her arms and didn’t answer. Virginia, unable to watch, examined a risqué billiard ball. Stewart recognized the resolve in Annette’s eyes and gave in.

“Sure, I’ll see what they have that’s canned and see what I can whip up,” he said. “They only passed away two weeks ago, so the kitchen won’t be that neglected.”

He kissed his wife on the cheek and tried to catch the eye of the sexy lawyer, but Ms. Hershey was looking at the billiards table. Stewart took advantage of her distraction to get another good look at her legs. God, for a short girl, she had such sleek, firm legs.

As he went into the kitchen, he heard the two women going upstairs. Daydreams of Ms. Hershey’s legs climbing the stairs ran through his mind as he assessed the stock of the kitchen. Stewart had to put aside his fantasies of the lawyer in order to concentrate. He really enjoyed the manor, and he wanted their meal here to be special. Maybe if he cooked a fantastic meal, Annette would let him keep the place.

The kitchen held a few surprises that he hadn’t noticed earlier. There were small rings set in the floor in front of the sink and stove. These puzzled him until he found a set of manacles that ended in rings that matched the ones set in the floor. It brought new meaning to the phrase “slaving away in the kitchen.” Stewart suppressed a shudder as he imagined Annette using these on him.

He couldn’t find a pantry at first, but he saw a door that had eluded their notice. He opened it to discover a set of stairs leading down into darkness. The man smiled. It looked as though he was going to get a chance to do some exploring after all.

Finding a candle in a kitchen drawer, he lit it on a burner and descended the stairs with the flickering light as his guide. When he finally reached the bottom, he saw chains set into the wall. It looked like a collar, a set of handcuffs and a set of chains for someone’s ankles.

“Kinky,” he said. He tried to imagine a woman chained down here in the darkness. The idea of Ms. Hershey waiting down here in chains came to him, and he felt a warm glow. He thought of his wife down here instead and found himself enjoying that thought even more.

There was another set of chains a few feet down. Another set was beside those, and another still further down. Stewart walked along the basement wall in wonder. He counted up to 12, and there were still more chains! How many people had his uncle and aunt kept in here?

Stewart’s imagination filled in the details with an unsettling certainty. The captives would have been blindfolded and kneeling in servitude. On the opposite wall would be where the men were kept. The owners of the house would have come down here and literally picked a mouth to fuck. Stewart could visualize the kneeling slaves opening their mouths, their tongues lapping the air in need.

“Mr. Foxglove?” said a woman’s voice from upstairs.

Stewart shook his head, and the vivid fantasy flitted away. At first, he thought it was Annette calling him, but a thrill ran through as he realized that his wife would have called him by his first name. It must have been Ms. Hershey. Why would she be calling for him? Several possibilities ran through his mind, and all of them were entertaining. He climbed the stairs quickly to see what the alluring young woman needed him for.

Ms. Hershey was in the study, standing next to the chair with the phallus embedded on the seat. The sun had gone down, and a very weak lamp had been turned on. Stewart stood in silence as he watched Ms. Hershey grip the phallus and slide her fist over its length. Her back was to him, and he didn’t think she knew he was there.

“Hello Stewart,” she said over her shoulder. “Your wife said she had a headache and needed to take a nap. She said to let her sleep for two hours.”

Stewart swallowed. That sounded like Annette. She often displayed her displeasure with naps. A nap was Annette’s way of telling the world to get its act together before she woke up.

“At first, I was surprised,” Ms. Hershey said. She was looking right at Stewart as she stroked the thick phallus. “I didn’t think a wife would leave her husband alone with a younger woman in a house like this. On the other hand, she does have you pretty whipped, doesn’t she?”

Stewart was too stunned by her dismissive tone to answer. Ms. Hershey looked at him as she stepped behind the chair and leaned on the back of it. She reached down and ran her finger over the tip of the phallus. Stewart forgot about her cruel comment as he watched her painted fingernails flick over the tall phallus.

“I thought you were attractive when I first met you,” Ms. Hershey said. “But after seeing your wife ride you, I doubt you are adventurous enough for a quick affair.”

“Excuse me?” Stewart finally managed to say. This was too good to be true and moving too fast for him.

“Annette is a bitch,” Ms. Hershey said. “As much as I would like to fuck you, I think you’d go running to your wife the first chance you got and then she could cause me to lose my job. If I’m going to have an affair with a married man, he needs to be a brave man. Understand?”

Stewart nodded. He didn’t know how he’d gotten to this point, but if this lovely young woman was thinking of fucking him, then he was going to say or do whatever it took.

Ms. Hershey kept flicking the phallus with her finger and occasionally rubbing her thumb over it. Stewart just watched the beautiful woman in admiration and tried to summon his courage. He looked at Ms. Hershey’s short brown hair, which was parted simply down the middle. The style was a contrast to the complex styles Annette preferred. He bet Ms. Hershey wouldn’t mind having his fingers run through her hair like Annette did.

“Prove to me you’re a man,” Ms. Hershey said suddenly. She stopped playing with the phallus and rested her chin in her hands. A taunting smile lit on her face.

“How can I prove it?” Stewart said. A delicious thrill ran through him as he crossed the line and implicated himself.

“Take off your shirt,” she said.

Stewart was quick to comply. His hands fumbled with the buttons as he opened his collar. As he moved down to his belly, he felt a moment of shame at his large gut. Ms. Hershey said nothing as he hesitated, but he noticed a smug grin on her face. She resembled Annette. With a fresh surge of courage, he removed his shirt.

“Very good,” Ms. Hershey said. “It is only fair that you be rewarded for showing me your unsightly belly.”

Before Stewart could object to her insult, she began to unbutton her jacket. His protest died on his lips as the lawyer slipped out of her jacket to reveal the sheer peach blouse underneath. This too she removed until she was down to a white lace bra. Stewart was amazed by how full her breasts were. He could have sworn from all of his leering that they had been smaller than the full cleavage she was showing now. He waited for her to remove her bra, but he was disappointed.

“You haven’t earned my tits yet,” Ms. Hershey said. “Now take off your pants for me.”

Stewart nodded obediently. He had never had an affair although he had often prayed for one in his ten-year marriage to Annette. If there were rules, he was happy to play by them. He kicked off his shoes and pulled down his pants. Ms. Hershey laughed when she saw his erection bulging from his underwear. Stewart blushed a deep red as he stood there in his briefs and wondered if she was laughing at the erection or the size. Annette was often dismissive of his penis, and he hoped Ms. Hershey didn’t share his wife’s opinion.

The young lady couldn’t have cared less about his fears. Ms. Hershey was already rewarding him for his courage by unzipping her skirt. Stewart sighed as the skirt fell away to reveal her creamy white thighs. He was delighted to discover she was wearing stockings instead of pantyhose. Underneath her white lace panties, he could just make out the dark bush of her pubic hair.

“You are braver than I thought, Stewart,” Ms. Hershey said. “Take off your underwear for me.”

He hesitated. He wondered about Annette and how deeply she was sleeping. He worried that Ms. Hershey might not like his cock for some reason. Deep down, he also wondered if he really did have the courage to fuck her.

“Now, Stewart!” Ms. Hershey said.

The man obeyed. He clenched his eyes shut and pulled his underwear down. His cock sprung from his underwear, swinging heavily between his legs. Stewart forced himself to stand up straight as Ms. Hershey stared at his crotch.

“Small, but not bad,” she declared.

Despite the insult, Stewart’s cock twitched. Ms. Hershey laughed at his desperate need.

“Here is your reward,” the lawyer said. She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra. Stewart held his breath as the young lady removed the white lace to reveal her magnificent bosom. He was surprised to see that her nipples were pierced with the same diamond studs he had seen on the painting of Painslut.

“Like them?” Ms. Hershey asked. She cupped one of her tits and pinched her nipple. The diamond sparkled in the low light.

“Yes,” Stewart managed to spit out.

“Good,” she said. “Now, Stewart, I have a difficult request for you. I only fuck real men, men who have balls and courage. Are you willing to do what I say?”

Stewart could only nod.

“We’ll see,” she said. “In the cabinet over there, look in the second drawer. There’s a gag in there. I want you to put it on. When I ride you, I don’t want your screams to wake up your wife.”

Stewart trembled as he looked in the cabinet . and found a red ball gag with a leather thong. He felt odd putting the red ball in his mouth and odder still tying it onto his head, but he obeyed.

“Now, I want you to sit in that chair, the one with the stocks on top. Sit down and put your hands behind you. In fact, I want you to put your wrists into the slots and pull the top down on top of your hands.”

He sat down as she’d asked and reached behind him. The stocks were cold to the touch, but he obeyed the topless lawyer. He had to curl his fingers over the stocks in order to pull them down. As he was about to lock his wrists in place, Stewart hesitated once more. He didn’t want to be locked into place completely nude where his wife could discover him. What if she woke up early from her nap? He was almost ready to back out completely when he heard Ms. Hershey sigh with disgust. That was when he pulled the stock down on his hands with a final “click.”

“It’s about time, Stewart,” she said. She stood in front of him and looked down at him. With his eyes on her, she slipped her fingers under her panties. Slowly, almost unbearable slowly, she pulled her panties down to her ankles. Stewart moaned as she stepped out of her panties and away from him.

He tried to ask where she was going, but the solid red ball gagged him completely. All he could do was whine piteously.

“Your cock is a bit small,” Ms. Hershey said. “I thought I would have a warmup first.”

The nude lawyer returned to the chair opposite Stewart. The large phallus mocked Stewart with its girth. Ms. Hershey turned around so that she was facing Stewart and spread her legs to either side of the chair. She held the lips of her sex apart in a lewd manner as she lowered herself onto the phallus. The lawyer gasped as the large toy pushed her open and slid up into her.

“Oh, God, Stewart,” Ms. Hershey moaned. “It’s so damn huge! Not like you at all. I feel like it’s splitting me apart.”

Up and down Ms. Hershey rode the ebony phallus. Her mouth hung open as the immense girth of the toy penetrated her. She gripped the sides of the chair as her heavy breasts bounced with each thrust. Her diamond studs twinkled in the low light, catching Stewart’s eye. Occasionally, she would smile decadently as she rolled her hips from side to side. She wanted every bit of her sex filled by the toy, and she wanted Stewart to know it.

He could only moan. The stocks on the chair held his hands tightly as his cock throbbed. He squirmed on the hard wooden seat while the young lawyer fucked herself. He wished he could beg her to come over to him, but the gag choked any plea he could make. He could only watch as the beautiful woman impaled herself in front of him.

“Like the view, Stewart?” Ms. Hershey taunted. She moved faster on the phallus until her breasts were in constant motion. Her hair fell in front of her face, and she bit her bottom lip in pleasure. Her firm thighs vibrated as they struggled to keep her moving. Trickles of sweat flowed down her legs, and Stewart wondered if some of that sweat was from her sex.

“I’m going to climax, Stewart,” Ms. Hershey said. “I’m going to climax on this thick cock, and then I’m coming for you. My hot, wet pussy is going to sit on your cock and pump you till I break you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Stewart couldn’t answer because of the gag, but he shook his head vigorously in agreement.

Ms. Hershey tossed her head back and screamed. Stewart winced at the loud shriek and worried about his wife waking up. The lawyer didn’t care. She was gasping from the power of her orgasm. Stewart watched in fascination as her sex clenched visibly around the phallus. She lowered herself onto the cock until she engulfed it completely. She parted her hair out of her eyes and smiled at Stewart.

“Have you been watching me in the mirror?” she asked.

Stewart forgot about the full-length mirror. He turned to see what other angles of her beauty he could see and then froze in confusion. The mirror showed the chair with the ebony phallus, but there was no sign of Ms. Hershey in the reflection! He looked back at her, and she was still there, impaled on the phallus. She laughed at his bewilderment as he kept looking back between her and her missing reflection.

That was when the small lamp clicked off. Stewart was plunged into darkness. He tried to scream through the gag but all that came out was a muffled whine.

He was alone, naked and bound in the darkness.

To be continued

  9 Responses to “Fiction: Haunted House of Bondage: The Sitting Room”

  1. That was such a nice break from all my exams and school work

  2. Spooky sex, spooky sex!
    I love spooky sex!

  3. Oh wow… very nice.

    Want more :)

  4. Mandy- That’s what we are here for.

    Madame X- All spooky all month long!

    Jaenelle- Next part will be posted Moanday.

  5. Stories featuring large phalluses (phalli?) are always appreciated.

  6. Oh how excellent. Love it.

  7. wordslut- lol, noted.

    Goose & Gander-Thanks :)

  8. very hot, bondage, vampires maybe, chairs a girl has to love, all good

  9. Oh God!! You’re killing me!!

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