Set in Victorian London, Lord Devlyn is a man with an agenda…
Lord Devlyn sat in his drawing room in his favourite chair, book in hand, deep in thought. He unconsciously smiled to himself as he thought about how he would soon have his revenge on Earl Cunningham; the following day he would have the documents from within his safe, proof of his underhanded dealings.
His reverie was broken by Patsy, his maid, who came in to tidy the fireplace. Patsy came into his service when he ‘rescued’ her from an overly amorous drunk who was attempting coitus in a back alley. She was only just fighting him off, and Devlyn would not have normally interfered, but he recognized the fellow: he had won a considerable amount from him earlier in the evening. Devlyn had felt cheated, so thought it only fair that he cheat the rather odious man from his ‘prize.’ The fellow didn’t know what hit him as Devlyn’s cane came crashing down against the back of his head, and down he went, crumpled, to the floor. The girl just looked at the downed drunk, and then at Devlyn: he could see the fear in her eyes. He could have easily taken her there and then for his own pleasure, but he wanted to be clear before the drunk came around, so he simply doffed his hat, and strode home. He soon realized the girl was following him, and despite his efforts to lose her, she was surprisingly adept at keeping his tail. In the end, he relented, deciding her skills could prove useful to him at some point.
“I’m sorry, sir. Shall I come back later?” she asked, gently bobbing in a curtsey, a cheeky smile on her face.
Devlyn just waved and nodded.
He watched as she walked over to the fireplace, hoisted her skirt, and knelt down. He noticed a flash of flesh as she did so, and realised she had foregone some of her undergarments. She gently swept the ash into a dustpan, wiggling her derriere teasingly as she did so. She was a slight girl with small breasts and hips, not Devlyn’s usual taste. But she had proved a willing accomplice in both his covert, and carnal, affairs. He would, of course, have to punish her for the misdemeanour, but that would have to wait until after he’s attended to some business.
The doorbell rang; Devlyn put down his book and flicked a lever; something akin to a periscope popped out of the table beside him. He looked into the viewer, and recognised Stevens: Excellent! He sat up straight, restraining his excitement, flicking the level back to remove the viewer.
“Shall I answer the door, sir?” Patsy enquired.
“No. You carry on as you are. Benson will answer it.”
He knew Stevens lusted after his faithful maid. Sometime he might allow him to have his way with her, as he watched on, of course.
The door to the drawing room opened and Benson appeared.
“A Mister Stevens -”
“Yes! Yes! Of course! Show him in directly!”
Devlyn could hardly contain his excitement, gripping the arms of his chair before standing, then changing his mind and sitting again.
Stevens entered the room, his cap in hand.
“I have the package you requested, sir.”
Stevens’ eyes glanced at Patsy as she cleared the fire grate.
“Could you take it up to the attic room? Discretely, of course.”
Stevens left the room. He was a good fellow, Stevens. Very able.
As the door closed, Patsy turned her head to face Devlyn and pouted.
“Later, my dear. Later.”
Devlyn could hardly wait until Stevens and Benson were out of the way before he raced upstairs to the attic. Once inside the room, he saw his delivery slumped in a chair: the Countess Cunningham, still unconscious from the ether that Stevens had used. Unsure how long he had before she would awaken, he hurriedly set up his special chair. It had been meant as an aid for gynaecological inspection, but he had adapted it to suit his own purposes. Then he stripped the Countess to her undergarments up and carefully placed her in the seat, strapping her in securely. She was heavier than Patsy, but Devlyn didn’t find her too much of an effort to lift, and the chair could support, and had done before, the weight of three fair sized people.
With his prey fastened in place, he sat and waited for her to wake.
After around 20 minutes she began to stir; he stood beside her as she came to.
“Ah! It’s the devil-in-Devlyn,” she said, far too calmly for Devlyn’s liking.
“Countess Cunnilingus,” he replied with a smile.
It was well known in society that since her older husband was wheelchair bound, she enjoyed having oral performed on her, usually by some young fellow who wished to gain favour in her husband’s financial affairs.
“Touché!” she countered, smiling back at him. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Revenge,” he said, wheeling out another contraption he’d acquired from the medical community, and again adapted to his own ends.
“Is this some sort of torture device? Will it make me scream?”
“Madam,” he laughed. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”
He’s already primed the device with spirit. He lit the fuel, and slowly, the engine began to whir. He engaged some gears, and a piston, capped with a phallus, began to move back and forth slightly. The Countess strained to see what was happening, but her head was strapped back to the headrest of the chair.
He moved the device towards the chair, and angled the phallus to begin to tease her clitoris. The Countess moaned.
“This is nice,” she said, mockingly. “How do you intend on getting your revenge on my husband?”
“I’m going to steal the papers which show all of his dealings.”
The Countess laughed.
“They’re in his safe. You won’t get in without the combination.”
He adjusted the device, and the Countess bucked suddenly.
“Oooooh. You won’t get me to tell you,” she said, her voice beginning to tremble.
Devlyn just smiled, watching her. He was confident in his operation of the toy, having had plenty of practice with Patsy, a more than willing volunteer. He made a slight change to the settings, which elicited a sudden gasp from her.
“Are you intending to torture me with pleasure?”
Devlyn smiled again.
“I’m just getting you warmed up.”
He adjusted the angle of attack and slowed it right down before moving the device to just penetrate her. He then, slowly increased the speed and length of stroke.
“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed, as her buttocks tensed and her hands grasped the arms of the chair.
Devlyn left the device running at a pace and depth he was happy with, while he moved to her side to unclip her corset, first watching her ample bosoms heaving against their constraint. Once freed, he admired her breasts in their natural glory.
He traced his finger down her naked abdomen, and over the soft curve of her belly, the result of her lifestyle of expensive wining and dining; he found it alluring.
“Please!” she gasped.
“You want me to stop already?” he asked rhetorically. “I’m only just starting.”
“No!” she spoke between gasps. “I… want… you… to… fuck… me!”
Devlyn laughed out loud.
“Madam. I will have you beg much more before you get your wish.”
The Countess moaned, pushing her head back against the headrest.
Devlyn traced around her nipples, one at a time. They responded to his touch, a shortly afterward, tremors raced through her body; she groaned again.
He went back to the machine, and increased its speed and thrust length a little. With each thrust, a squeal escaped her; her hands gripped the armrests even tighter. Devlin stroked the inside of her thighs, pushing her stockings down as he did so, and watched the phallus plunge in and out of her vagina. His finger slowly traced along her thigh slowly moving towards her groin; when he brushed past her clitoris, her hips twitched.
“Do you want to see what I’m going to do to you next?” he asked, though the answer wouldn’t have made any difference.
“Ye-e-e-e-es,” she managed to reply.
He moved to her head, adjusted the headrest so her head was up, looking down her body; she would just about see part of the phallus at the nadir of its stroke. He then moved away to pick up another piece of equipment. They looked like a pair of tiny bell jars, linked to rubber piping leading to a small box with a handle. He lubricated the rims of the jars, placed them over her nipples, and then began to wind the handle; almost immediately, her nipples began to swell within their containers as the vacuum inside increased.
She tried to arch her back, but the restraints stopped her. Her breathing became faster, and she tried to shift around. Devlyn knew at once what she was trying to do, and went again to adjust the artificial penis, slightly changing its angle.
“Oh… oh… thank… you…” she gasped, her eyelids flickering.
Devlyn smiled wickedly before again adjusting the speed and length of stroke. She began to scream with each thrust.
“Please! Please! Please! Please!” she demanded.
“You’ll have to do better than that, Countess,” he said, laughing.
He flicked a switch on the vacuum box, and her nipples receded a little within their containers. He carefully removed them, flicking each puffy, swollen nipple as he did; she flinched both times. Then he closed off one of the pipes, and placed the other tiny bell jar over her clitoris, ensuring a good seal, and began to wind. Her body shuddered, and continued to shudder as he sucked her clit out, making it swell: she groaned, and he teased the insides of her thighs with his nails.
“Stop! Stop! Please! Stop!” she moaned.
Devlyn leant over and increased the speed of the phallus; she could take a little more before he would move on to the next stage.
She screamed, and juices began to pump out of her; Devlyn stepped back, surprised. He’d heard about such things, but never seen it before. She writhed against the restraints. Devlyn moved over and held her wrists down; the leather wrist straps would have held her down, but he didn’t want her chafing herself them against them.
Once her screaming and squirting subsided, he slowed the machine down, gradually bringing it to stop outside her. He released the vacuum jar, and watched her clitoris throb for a little while before moving his equipment out of the way.
“Well, sir,” she said breathlessly. “What have you in store for me now?”
He grabbed both of her breasts, and began to squeeze and massage them. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone as ample, as voluptuous as this, and he was going to make the most of it. She flinched when he passed over her nipples, still tender from their being machine-sucked, but he liked to see a woman in pain and pleasure. He roughly tweaked them, and ran over them with his thumbs.
“You’re not a gentle man at all, are you?”
He bent over her, and tongued one of her nipples; again she flinched, exhaling afterwards. He began a torrent of flicking with his tongue, watching her face twitch with every pass. He squeezed her breast tighter, enjoying the feel of her soft, warm flesh in his grasp, and then moved onto the other one.
Some say more than a handful is a waste. Others, a mouthful. Devlyn always liked excess, and he devoured as much as he could with his mouth, enjoying this woman’s, his adversary’s wife’s bosoms. And she, in return, was enjoying his ministrations, moaning and groaning. He allowed one of his hands to wander down her belly and between her legs, gently stroking her soft, smooth thighs.
“Yesss,” she purred.
As he swapped breasts again, his hand lightly traced around her opening, teasing her.
“Are you just going to taunt me, or are you going to fuck me?” she pleaded.
Devlyn said nothing, beginning a long, slow journey of nibbles, licks and kisses down her belly. At times, her belly shook when he hit a sweet spot; meanwhile, his hand began to tease her by lightly brushing across her lips.
As he approached her pubis, he navigated around her hair, and continued his journey down her thighs.
“Devlyn! Stop teasing! Get on with it!”
He stuck a finger inside her, taking her by surprise. He massaged her gently, before sticking another finger, and then another into her very moist vagina. She tried to grind against his hand, but only had limited freedom of movement.
“Damn you, Devlyn!” she said, struggling against her restraints.
He stopped, and removed his hand from her pussy.
“Have you ever tasted yourself?”
“Have you ever tasted yourself?
“No,” she said unsurely, after a pause.
Devlyn knew she was lying, but he had no need to challenge her.
“Then taste my fingers,” he said, putting his damp hand by her lips.
She gave him an uncertain look, before opening her mouth and allowing his fingers in. She licked across his fingers.
“Do you taste nice?”
“Yes,” she admitted, reservedly.
“Now suck my fingers like you mean it.”
She paused for a moment, and Devlyn could almost see the thoughts crossing her mind:
What is he up to?
Is this a trick?
And then she sucked his finger into her mouth, licking around it sensually enough to make him tingle; he tried to beat down the feeling, as he wasn’t ready yet. But the longer she teased his fingers, taking each one in turn, licking each length with her soft, wet, warm tongue, the more difficult he found it to resist rising.
He withdrew his hand before it became too distracting, and moved back between her legs.
“At last,” she cried.
He adjusted her legs to allow him better access, and he began to demonstrate his oral skills, at first licking around teasingly, and before flicking, licking and probing her with his soft tongue. At first, she complained.
“I can get anyone to do that…”
But then she relented.
“… but you do it so well,” she sighed.
He looked up at her face as he worked away; her eyes were closed and her breathing deep with an occasional sharp intake. She moaned softly as his tongue softly stroked her clitoris, whilst his fingers gently massaged within her.
“I do hope you’ll finish me off like a man,” she said, almost resignedly.
He stopped, and stood back; she complained.
He adjusted her legs again, this time they were right up, her ankles as close to her head as they would go.
“What are you trying to do to me?” she said. “I’m not a contortionist you know!”
Indeed, she was not as flexible as the ever-willing-to-please Patsy, but he’d got her legs up far enough for his purpose. He unfastened his braces, and allowed his trousers to fall, stepping out of them; he was already erect.
“Oh my!” she said, her eyes open wide, admiring him.
He guided himself to her opening, and then, grasping her thighs tightly, he thrust all the way in; he thought her eyes might have popped out, as they opened even wider.
“Oh! God! That’s… in… so… deep!” she gasped.
He remained there for a moment, before pulling out slowly, and then pushing back in. He began to build up a rhythm, becoming quicker, thrusting harder and deeper; she squealed with every push; he found the way her belly and breasts wobbled with each stroke strangely fascinating.
He could feel pressure surging within himself, and tried to contain himself. He moved one of his hands to massage her clitoris with his thumb; he was determined not leave her wanting before he exploded.
Watching her bosoms bounce seemed to trigger some more base, animalistic urge in him, and he fell forward to feast on them, greedily nibbling nipples, as she groaned louder with each and every one of his thrusts.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
And then she fell silent; he looked up, her eyelids were fluttering as she slowly exhaled. He stopped, and felt her muscles convulsing around his cock. He remained in situ for as long as he could before withdrawing, and raced to her head; he intended to own her by ejaculating over her face.
He hurriedly adjusted the headrest to have her head tipped back, before massaging his manhood.
“In my mouth!” she shouted breathlessly. “I want it in my mouth!”
Surprised, he pushed his penis deeply into her now open mouth; she sucked hard, her tongue massaging his shaft. It didn’t take long before he tensed and released his load into her throat.
She moaned, which seemed to spur him on, his cock twitching a few more times within her warm, moist mouth. His legs trembled, and he grabbed the chair to maintain his balance; asphyxiation was not part of his plan. He stayed there for a few moments, before gently removing himself from her.
“Kiss me!” she demanded, still panting.
He obliged; her soft, slightly salty lips against his sent a warmth through his reputedly cold heart. Her tongue pushed its way into his mouth, and they parried; he felt his loins stirring again. This woman! This wretched woman! This wretched, wicked, wonderful woman had ensnared him.
Their lips separated, and he began to recall his purpose.
He readjusted the headrest to make her comfortable, and dressed himself.
“Countess. I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you there for a little while longer, as I have a pressing appointment with your husband’s safe’s contents.”
“Devlyn!” she called, as he went to leave the room. “I would as gladly give up the combination to the safe, as I would give myself to you. But I’m afraid I don’t know it. So please stay, and we can enjoy each other’s pleasure.”
Devlyn smiled, and called for Patsy. Then he turned back towards the Countess.
“My dear. I already have the combination. Taking his wife in a way he cannot was a sweet bonus in my revenge.”
Patsy entered the room.
“Patsy. Would you be so kind as to keep the Countess entertained in my absence.”
“Certainly, sir,” Patsy said, as she curtseyed.
“I believe the Countess would be especially grateful of your oral skills.”
“Of course, sir,” Patsy replied, taking her place between the Countess’ legs.
“Thank you, Lord Devlyn, but before you leave, I must ask…”
Devlyn stopped and turned.
“What has my husband done to injure you so?”
Devlyn heaved a sigh, his eyes downcast.
“He killed my beloved Lucy.”
The Countess frowned.
“I’m so sorry, my Lord. Was she your fiancée? Your sweetheart?”
Devlyn paused again, in thought, and turned to the door before answering.
“When I was a child… Lucy was my Spaniel.”
Devlyn began to walk away.
“Sir! Go take your revenge.”
Devlyn turned to look again; he could hear Patsy’s tongue lapping against the Countess, and the Countess lay there, eyes closed, her breathing becoming irregular; Patsy was always quick to get a response once she started her task.
He briefly considered staying to enjoy the contrast between the two ladies, but his long awaited vengeance was overdue. He left the lovely Countess in the very capable hands, and mouth, of his faithful maid.