Mrs. Taylor's Excellent Adventures Ch. 05

"Hear this, you of the many times rutted cunt! Hear this, oh worshipper of Satan's filthy ass hole! You've no more coin with me, verminous slut! You're days and nights of whoring this city may end but now if I don't hear you reconsider your words for me. Think of your own flesh roasting if I touch a match to your oiled and putrid skin. Think of the stench of your own burning skin filling your nose as I watch you writhe and twist against your bonds! Once more, dear...sweet...mistress! Your wishes for me are..."

"Frieda, sweet Frieda...forgive my intemperance. My head is still bewitched by the Pastor's witch. Leave with my blessings and all you can carry. Just give me your mercies and beat me no more."

Frieda relaxed her grip and her mistress's head fell to the bench. "So much politer you are...when you're reminded of your place," she crooned. "Call me or my mother a whore once more and I'll see your brains strewn about this chamber. Call me the spawn of Satan once more and I'll roast your back while I fill your ass with this rod. Now...I'll take my pleasures of you again, and you'll be keen about your duties...or I'll beat you to death!

Frieda lifted her skirts and took her place before her mistress's face. "Again, sweet, sweet mistress...and again once more if I should so choose."

"Ahhh," she sighed as her woman's place was again the source of her pleasures.

'Frieda girl, get creative...get some heat happening here...'

"Mistress...your tongue serves me better in this task than it did with your words. Your mouth is so much softer as it does my pleasuring than as it insults. So much softer than it was as you cursed me so cruelly but moments ago. I come closer for your tongue to enter deeper. Ahhh...yes. Deeper my mistress. That which you so recently derided as my cunt...give it your full attention, mistress, lest I choose to take my anger instead of my pleasure."

Frieda leaned back to put her vagina fair into her mistress's mouth. With one hand she held the head between her legs close hard and with her other she stroked herself between her labia as she had so many times while alone. Her woman's pleasure bud was hard and wet, and she thrilled to be taking such liberties with her mistress, bound and held before her.

"Such pleasures I feel...such heat fills my loins...your tongue does finally please me, mistress. Please me well and you may yet live. Please me not and for you...all is lost. My deepest, most sinful lusts you will satisfy this night...or...a flagon of lamp oil and a candle flame will be your reward. What say you, mistress?" Frieda moved her feverish vulva back but an inch and awaited her mistress's words.

"Yes, sweet Frieda, I live to see you pleasured. Do with me as you will if it means my life is spared. Just spare my skin the burning oil and you will be well serviced in your pursuits of the darkest of lusts. All that you seek...shall I provide."

"And you will, my mistress, you will," and Frieda moved forward her inch. Her heart sang to see her mistress's tongue thrust into her waiting vagina again and again. Her hand returned to its place and sinuously rolled her hips and shoulders, the waves of pleasure driving the dance.

The peak of Venus was close and Frieda was loath to find it too soon. 'I shall dally a while, and what I miss in quick release shall more than be made up in a higher of peaks.' She moved back and considered her dalliance. 'Yes,' she mused. 'I shall,' and turning away from her mistress, she resettled with her buttocks fair hard against the face of her trussed mistress. In a gesture of both contempt and dark lust, she reached her own cheeks and spread them wide to move her very anus into that face. "Now, my mistress...hear me well. Do to my dark orifice as you have done so well to my woman's place. Fail me and you shall be...anointed with oil."

The threat made its mark and she felt the tongue against her anus, pushing and licking. Frieda was amazed at how she felt. Instead of the revulsion she had envisioned at the touch of a tongue to her anus, she felt a rush of passion, of a quality she had never experienced before. While the fingers of her mistress and her fine lady friends had caused her to quiver in shame and degradation, this touch was wondrously different.

'Ain't it so, girl...ain't it so...'

Frieda final felt the pleasures of the touch in such a dark and forbidden way, that she writhed in illicit passion. As her mistress was forced to use her tongue where before she had forced her fingers into Frieda so unkindly, the sensations were most welcome and sought. She moved her buttocks up and down, side to side as she relished both the heat flowing from her anus and also the heady powers of knowing her mistress was now deeply debased as Frieda herself had been, so often before.

"Yes, mistress, lap at my anus, lap like a dog! In with it! Yes! Again! Again!" she commanded and gave a most unchristian moan as her order was fulfilled.

"Stop and you shall burn! Sweet Mother...why does this pleasure me so! If it pleases you to have me lust after this most defiling of ravishments...then so be it and I will!"

Frieda had one hand under her body, stretching to reach herself and was rocking her clitoris onto her fingers. "Such raptures! Such raptures! Harder, mistress! Harder! Fill my anus with your tongue! Yes! Yes! I die and die again! Holy Mother...I...I..." and she was again stretched over the Peak of Venus, her body tensed and shuddering.

"Sweet...sweet...Jesus!!" she called out and was falling down that precipice of carnal release. "Fucked!...Fucked!...I am fucked!" she gasped as the shocks of release coursed through her body. As she rubbed her last pleasures from her vulva, she felt a wetness she had never produced before.

'What magic is this...what illicit and carnal black magic causes such a wondrous discharge from my feminine orifices?' Her mind was not yet settled and she thanked her real Mistress. 'Sweet Mother...such a gift you have bestowed upon me. Such carnal raptures I never believed could possibly flow from such untoward desires. May our Lord bless and keep such raptures flowing...Amen...' and she rested without moving.

"Now, sweet Frieda, you must release me and let me attend...to the arrest of the witch...the Pastor's false wife...as she is clearly now the bride of Satan. You see yourself, what bewitchment she has brought unto you. Release me and we will both attend to her trial and burning. Now, sweet Frieda...before her bedevilment takes you again!"

Frieda smiled softly and murmured, "Me thinks not, good lady. For you are no longer my mistress and I am no longer your housemaid. The Pastor's wife plays no part in these events. They are of your making, and I have but begun to drink from this new chalice that you yourself have prepared. Nay...you shall remain bound for as long as I desire, as you have left me bound...over many long nights...until dawn finally had you sending me to other duties. Now I take my leave of you for other pleasures. But worry not, for I shall return to take from your most carnal and precious chalice again. Question not my wants for the jar of lamp oil the kitchen holds is full...and the candles still burn. I shall have your silence or...I shall have your life!"

'That's right, Frieda. Nothing like the threat of death to get her thinking your way.'

Frieda slowly rose and with a long, wilful gaze at her captive, bade her consider the foolishness of dissent. Satisfied at the silence she strode from the chamber and climbed the stairwell into the kitchen. Through it she walked into the parlour and took seat in one of the plush chairs. She felt strangely content, despite her recent delvings into the most forbidden of pleasures. She closed her eyes and thought of her escape. Knowing she must flee and never be seen in these parts again, she took her stock and made her plan.

Gold and fine jewels she now had in abundance but how to take them and herself to safety? And what other plunder would she need to acquire to make her life one of ease and pleasure? She rose and took advantage of her new station, pouring herself a goblet of fine brandy from her once mistress's crystal decanter. The liquor had never passed her lips before and she carefully sipped its heady and fiery golden draught.

"Ummmm..." she murmured. "So this is the drink of the gentry. Such warmth and comfort. Such intense and delicious flavour. A fitting drink for my new station. But I must take care." She knew how little of this liquid would turn her head to nonsense, having witnessed its effects so often when her once mistress partook of it.

Frieda had seen to the cleaning and arrangement of the house for two years and knew its contents like she knew her own breasts. Its finery and costly accoutrements were amongst the most opulent in the city. The late man of the house had prospered greatly and his widow lacked for nothing.

'It's mine to take...all of it...but...I must choose wisely. I will take only what I can secret away without suspicion. And I must have a ruse to confuse any who might otherwise question my doings.'

Frieda looked at the most wondrous of the room's contrivances, a clock of opulent and cunning design. The hour was not quite midnight. 'I must flee upon the morrow, but how?' she pondered. 'Yes! That will do with perfection,' she thought as a sly plan came into her mind.

Outside the street was quiet but not deserted. Men shuffled home from the taverns and a woman of the night plied her trade, offering her body for a moment's pleasure. Frieda heard her sultry entreaties given to a drunkard who stood and swayed. "Venus for ten Pfennings, good sir. Perhaps you'll accept from me what you lack in your own house. Horseback or the pleasures of dark places. Come, good sir, ten Pfennings for what you see," and with that, Frieda watched as the whore opened her corselet to expose her breasts.

The man just stared and then reached for the proffered breasts. He took them and roughly fondled, before letting out a crude laugh. "Such tits are for sale the next street over for five Pfennings and yours are so spent, they would fall to your cunt if you let them. Away with you, and go fuck some other!"

'Good sir, if it's finer breasts you seek...my daughter...just thirteen...with breasts just filling and...and...her cunt...never filled by a man before...never...yours to deflower for twenty-five Pfennings...such a bargain, good sir..."

"And my cock would rut where one hundred others have gone before! Away with you!" and with that he struck her on her face and lurched off.

Frieda's heart went soft for the woman, forced to eke out an existence in such a cruel fashion. She knew full well that the daughter had likely been rutted in one hundred times or more, forced like her mother to earn her daily bread by accepting the seed of many men each night. She shuddered at the thought of herself in such a life. While her body had been the source of many women's dark delights, at least she had a proper roof over her head and food to eat.

"Good woman! Come here. I have need of you," she called to the whore. At the beckoning, the whore crossed the street and walked up to the house.

"So, my little pretty...it's a woman's touch you seek. Or are there men in the house who feel the needs of release?"

Her face was haggard and coated in thick make ups. She was missing several teeth and the rest were black and rotted. She reeked of lack of bathing and of cheap scents. Frieda could only imagine what poxes she gave freely with her ten Pfenning fucks.

"No, good woman, you are mistaken. I only want you to deliver a message." Frieda pressed a silver coin into the whore's hand. "Go to the station house and tell them prepare a coach for a long journey. My mistress bids me meet her in Frankfurt with supply from this house. Go and tell them be here upon the dawn. And...here's another coin for your haste." She pressed a second into the whore's hand.

"Bless you, m'lady. Bless you." And she was off.

Frieda now had the night to prepare. But first, she felt another thirst for the chalice that had so well serviced her desires. Closing and bolting the door, she turned and made for the chamber. Stopping only for fresh candles, she walked down the stairwell and stopped to view her captive.

'That's my girl. Have a good look. And don't forget to poke and prod a little.'

The lady Marzner was still young by the standards of most widows. But Frieda knew the Merchant Marzner had taken her as his third wife, after his second had died in childbirth, just as had his first. Marzner had no surviving children and he had taken the woman not out of affection, but to give him a son to carry on his name and business. Frieda also knew that the woman bound before her came from a family of high birth but reduced circumstances, having lost their lands to the Prussians in one of the endless series of wars and skirmishes that periodically swept over Europe. Marzner himself had died in a fit of apoplexy and left his young widow a very wealthy woman. She was fair enough and her body was untouched by childbirth or fevers. Undoubtedly, Marzner had enjoyed his efforts in trying to carry on his name. But to no avail and now his name and wealth belonged to the naked woman bound over the bench. 'Well, his name for now' mused Frieda, 'and what wealth I leave behind!'

"And so, Widow Marzner...long have I dreamt of this...having you as you have had me...naked and hapless...mine to enjoy...mine to explore and touch...to penetrate and fondle..." Frieda's fingers were at her clothing, slowing and sensuously removing them, running her hands over her body as each part was unclothed.

Frieda walked around the woman and ran eyes over her. "But a moment...while I light more candles...the better to illuminate your secrets...the better to cast light on what I shall gaze upon...as you have gazed upon me..."

"Frieda, sweet Frieda...you have had your pleasures with me in my reduced state...now...release me and let me...please you properly...as one woman to another..."

"Oh, my lady...must you keep up in your wasted pleas...or must I thrust a gag into your mouth to protect my ears from your vexing whining? Trouble me not with your empty promises. Or I'll take a whip and carve my name upon your back..."The bound woman went silent and held her head low to the bench.

"Ahhh....such an improvement in your place, my lady," Frieda crooned as she ran hands up and down the oiled back. "Such fine skin you have...and such a shame to have it scarred...if you continue in your blitherings. I shall not warn you again, fair lady. Your silence is your life!"

Frieda rejoiced in the sensations of her hands caressing and massaging the skin under her fingers. Taking long moments, she ran hands over the woman's back and buttocks, thighs and vulva, shoulders and breasts. At her breasts, she tarried, running soft finger tips and cupping them, fondling them and lightly squeezing nipples. The woman's breasts were fuller than her own, well figured by her advanced age but still firm and ripe. She sighed as she fondled with passion, as if the breasts in her hands were a child's delight. Then she lowered her self and ran her own breasts up and down the woman's back, over her buttocks and down her thighs. Thrusting her held breast to the cleft before her, she moaned as her nipple traced over the woman's anus. 'Sweet Mother, this pleasures so...' she thought as she continued in her efforts.

Then with a well oiled finger she gently probed its depths, moving as if she wanted the woman's pleasuring and not her shame.

'Go, girl...that ass belongs to you now. Fuck it with your finger...or whatever else is at hand.'

"I wonder...could it be...could it possibly be?' she mused as she thought of the heat she would feel if she took the woman, willing or unwilling, up the mountain and over the peak, to see her falling in nature's passions after her body was wound up like a clock spring. 'Yes...I think I shall amuse myself with this study.'

Frieda eased her fingers under the woman's vulva and softly stoked her lips. Never had anyone softly stroked hers, other than herself and she proceeded as she would want to be pleasured. The oil on her hands made the woman's vulva easy to move against and Frieda continued to keep one finger in the woman's other place.

The touching of the woman in such intimate sexual fashion soon had Frieda feeling a rising warmth that slowly filled her with the desires of Venus. Resisting the urge to commit one hand to self pleasuring, she concentrated upon taking the woman up and up the mount. It was minutes but Frieda thrilled to feel the woman start to move and help herself to climb. She eased two fingers into the moist and warm vagina and continued to move her hand. "So, my fine lady, how feels it to have my fingers...fuck in you...in such fashion?"

Frieda had never said that word, except in the very throws of carnal passion. Now she said it easily and it felt the word to use. 'Yes...I fuck the woman,' she thought. 'I fuck her vagina like I would fuck my own...and how she approves of my efforts...her twisting and pushes show a want of more...enough to take her to peaks and then some.'

"Does this please you, my lady?" Frieda asked, part in truth and part in scorn. "Do my touches have you seeking more...or do they repulse you and make your soul quake in indignation?" Frieda continues to pleasure the woman as she would have done to her self. "Come now, my lady...I must decide...to leave you to your peace...or continue this journey to pleasures...what say you, good lady?"

'I...I...yes, sweet Frieda...I want to...continue...in this...I would die if you were to...stop this journey to pleasures...I would die...go on, sweet Frieda...please...go on..."

"Then I shall, sweet lady...I shall..." murmured Frieda and continue she did.

Frieda was straddling the bench, close behind the woman and she felt the urge to self pleasure. 'But my hands are thus occupied, in the task I have set myself...how then may I also enjoy this debauch?' she mused. 'Ahh! Yes!' as she eyed the rod. Taking her one hand from the woman's vulva, she reached to take up the rod and she put it on the bench under her.

"Ummm..."she murmured as she felt it press to her as she rocked upon it. 'This will do its duty,' she thought, 'and I too shall partake of this climb.' She felt the rod pressing to her clitoris and with cunning and subtle movements, Frieda was awash in shuddering pleasures. She returned her hand to the woman's vulva, who eased her body up to accept. In went the two fingers and Frieda returned to her duty of bringing the woman to her peak.

"Don't forget your own, Frieda, sweetheart. Never forget your own.'

'Such wonderment,' thought Frieda. 'I thrill as much to the touching of her as I thrill to my own pleasuring. Despite her cruel treatments, now that I have her hapless as she had me...it's so much a difference, so much of a want...and so much of a rising heat it causes...'

She slowly rocked herself on the rod, images of it being a young man's sex, filling her mind. She stroked her wet fingers in and out of the woman's vagina, wanting to see a man thrusting his turgid sex organ in its place. She closed her eyes and imagined that organ under her, impaling her to her tortured soul as she rocked it, feeling it move in her, stretching and filling her vagina until she cried out and took the pulses of his seed. 'Soon...soon...' she told herself. 'Soon I will be away and free to catch the fancy of a young man, full of youthful zest and passion, possessed of a sex tool to fulfill my every carnal desire...'

Her thoughts returned to her present situation. The woman, bound by hands and feet to the rings at the base of the bench, was moving more forcefully, her loins seeking deeper touch and more forceful rubbing. Frieda was awed at her wetness. In her own dark bed chamber she had felt her self wetting as she played her own violin, but this! This was a flow she had never experienced.