She suffered so beautifully. I fell a little bit in love with her when she took that whipping. I wanted to touch her and hold her and comfort her, but at the same time I wanted to tell her she deserved it and she’d get more if she didn’t behave herself. She got tears in her eyes around the ninth stroke and I was so jealous of Peregrine I had this mad moment of thinking I’d get up and snatch the cane off him and finish her off myself.
But he got to do it. Besides, I’d probably have done it all wrong, not being an expert in those days, and injured her.
He got to hold her and kiss her and tell her everything was all right now.
And he got the traditional thank you, of course. Her luscious mouth around another man’s cock now, easy and difficult to watch at the same time.
There were tears on her cheeks while she sucked him. He asked her if she wanted to stop but she shook her head.
After he’d filled her mouth and she’d swallowed, Sofia gave her a long hug and kiss and then the pair of them disappeared up to the bedroom.
That left me and Peregrine.
It was a bit awkward, I must say. The experience we’d just shared, well! Intense wasn’t the word. Plus I was painfully hard and had no idea what to do about it, apart from cross my legs and think of the fiscal cliff.
‘So,’ said Peregrine, making with the whisky again. ‘Do you think it’s for you?’
‘What? All the kinky stuff?’
‘Yes. You seemed to enjoy yourself.’
‘I did. Yes. I think this is my, uh, niche. Very much so.’
‘Excellent. Another partner in sex crime for me.’
‘Well, I’d stop short of crime.’
‘Figure of speech, Richard, figure of speech.’ You know how he talks. All jaded and royal. ‘You can thank me whenever you like.’
‘Thanks! Obviously. I’m very glad you invited me here this weekend. Very.’
‘My pleasure. You’ll have to come to my club when you’re back in town.’
We chatted for a while, about the scene and things he’d done, but it didn’t do much to calm down my raging erection and I had to excuse myself in the end and take a medicinal shower.
Poor old Julian was still in his corner when I came back down.
Supper was interesting. It was a warm evening and we got a table out in the back garden and ate there. The film director and his boyfriend cooked – out of this world, the food was. Everyone was dressed for dinner, you know, cocktails at seven, dinner at eight, kind of thing. Peregrine’s a stickler for all that. I expected Celia to be shy and embarrassed about what we’d done with and to her that afternoon, but she couldn’t have been more different. Life and soul of the party, full of stories, most of which might land me in court if I repeated them. No, Al, I won’t be pers
uaded. No.
And she was a flirt! Bloody hell, she flirted with me outrageously. I thought Sofia was going to read the riot act, but she was fine with it. Once we’d done liqueurs and Peregrine had started chain-smoking again, Sofia suggested Celia and I take an evening walk through the village.
‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Such a gorgeous night. The sunset’s going to be incredible. Take a walk down to the ruins, along the river.’
Celia seemed up for it, so I went along with the idea.
I was still a bit starstruck, to be honest, and everyone we passed gawped – a few came up and asked for autographs – so the conversation was a bit smalltalky at first.
‘Sofia’s right, it’s a perfect evening for a walk.’
‘Sofia’s always right.’
‘Yeah, she seems like that type.’
(Autograph hunter.)
‘She’s a sweetie under that tough domme exterior.’