Free The Black Widow by Lisette Ashton Page A

would have to play with herself to relieve some of the pent-up feelings this encounter had caused. As she turned her head back to Derek’s cock, she stole a hand between her legs and dared to tease her sex. A finger brushed over her clitoris and pleasure began to course through her as she worked her tongue over his shaft.
    ‘You know,’ Derek said suddenly, speaking to Arthur. ‘We really ought to offer this service to some of our more prestigious clients.’
    His words, and the hint of future submissions that they alluded to, were too much for Poppy. It was not only the pressure of her fingertips against the pulsing bead of her clitoris. The euphoria of this threatened humiliation left her squealing as the thrill of another orgasm swept over her. After this, she wondered if her fortnight’s holiday might not seem like an anticlimax.

Four
    ‘Bloody hell!’ Wendy whispered. She had been about to leave the east wing’s storeroom, her duties there concluded for another day, when the sudden movement caught her eye. She stepped towards the window and peered through, wondering if she had been mistaken. With her face pressed against the glass, she stared across the empty lawn towards the partially blinded window in the west wing.
    The health farm’s main building had been constructed with two great semicircular wings. In the tip of each lay unused rooms almost forgotten by the staff and clientele, and seldom visited. From the pane in the east wing’s storeroom, Wendy had a clear view of the scene in the west wing.
    ‘Bloody hell!’ she gasped again, equal measures of shock and excitement colouring her works. ‘That’s obscene.’ Without another thought, she rushed from the storeroom, determined to investigate.
    It took he less than tow minutes to sprint through the building, her pace hurried by a dark intrigue that had not touched her for months. A handful of early-risers greeted her as she trotted briskly through the corridors of Elysian Fields and she acknowledged each with a polite but cursory nod. If she had seen Bryn or Allen she would have encouraged them to join her but the masseurs were not scheduled to start work for another hour. Not giving her own safety any thought, Wendy made her way to the west wing alone.
    ‘Please. No. No more.’
    She could hear the man’s pitiful cries of protest as she neared the west wing’s forgotten room. Normally she would have associated wails like that with pain, discomfort and agony, but this tone sounded different. There was a suggestion of enjoyment in the pleas for leniency and Wendy felt her curiosity deepen. She could recognise John’s voice beneath the unfamiliar cries for mercy and she knew he was with the woman they were calling the Black Widow. The only thing Wendy did not know was what the pair of them were doing. She approached the closed door with the stealth of a natural voyeur. Her heart was pounding and she could feel her mood being coloured by the delicious flush of arousal.
    ‘I promise I won’t say a word. Not to the police. Not to Faye Meadows. Not to anyone. I promise.’
    Wendy stepped closer to the door, wishing it had been left ajar. There were no internal windows to the room and the only glimpse inside was afforded from the eye of the mortise lock’s keyhole. Kneeling in front of the door, she pressed one eye to the keyhole and tried to make sense of what was going on. Barely aware that she was speaking aloud, Wendy whispered, ‘Bloody hell!’
    ‘I thank you for your promise, John. It’s nice to finally hear some compliance in your tone. But the truth is that I can’t trust you. That’s why I’m going to have to take this measure.’
    By squinting, and using a little guesswork, Wendy was able to make out the scene in the room. She could see John was secured to a contraption that looked like a birthing-stool. Towering over him, with a padlock in one hand, the Black Widow was smiling ferociously.
    Allen and Bryn, the health farm’s male