Jenny's Curiosity

Frustrated, she eventually fell asleep.

Sometime in the late hours of the night, she woke up to find the covers thrown back and her body covered in sweat. Her knees were pulled back and open rather obscenely, she thought.

She'd never had a dream so vivid.

It had started out indistinctly, as dreams often do. Jenny had been on a wooded lane near her home. Someone stepped out of the brush and it had been him: Sir Archibald, dressed like he'd been in the portrait. Introducing himself, he'd asked if he could walk with her.

Jenny looked down shyly and nodded her head. After a while, they were at a stream and Archibald asked if she'd like to soak her feet in the cool water. She'd taken off her sandals and sat down on the grassy bank. He'd joined her.

Soon he'd leaned over and began kissing her with soft, gentle lips. His kisses became more insistent. She'd been swept away in the moment, and soon he was taking even more liberties, touching her breasts, pulling at her nipples through the thin cotton of her dress.

Without realizing the way it had happened, she found him on top of her, kissing her feverishly and humping his body against hers.

"I want you, Jenny. I want you," he said into her ear.

"What are you going to do with me?"

He slid down her body and propped himself on his elbows. His dark eyes flashed at her. "Will you let me send you to heaven?"

"Depends. What do you want to do?"

"This," he answered, as he pulled up her dress.

Pulling her knickers aside, he sank his tongue into her slit. He was right! The pleasure that shot through her from head to toe was indescribable. It felt like heaven.

Her rapture lasted too brief a time as she'd been wakened by a noise outside. This time, though, finding herself again drenched between her legs, her nipples hard points of desire, she reached down, wetted her fingers and began pulling at her swollen clitoris. Jenny came in a thunderous climax, the strongest she'd ever experienced, forcing her to bite her pillow to keep from screaming out.

As she pulled up the covers and drifted off to sleep, she again heard Sir Archibald's gentle voice: "I can send you to heaven."

Next morning, despite finally giving herself an orgasm during the night, Jenny was oddly tense. At breakfast her mother told her she was "like a flea on a hot griddle". No matter what she did, Jenny couldn't get the happenings of the last day out of her head. She felt tired and drained by her disturbed sleep, but keyed up.

Up in her room, trying to read her latest fashion magazine, she found she could barely concentrate. Unbidden, the image of Sir Archibald and his dashing good looks rose in her mind. Also making her uneasy was the way she'd behaved in the dream and how that had carried over into what she had thought and said as she'd made herself cum.

"I am not a slut," she told herself firmly. "I shouldn't act like one."

Elaine wasn't around to talk to, having gone off somewhere without her. That's probably why she'd stopped by the previous evening. Jenny could have used a little distraction.

After moping around the house all day, the young woman again made an early night of it. She fell asleep quickly.

Again she had a dream about the handsome aristocrat and it seemed even more real. They again met on a road, only this time it started raining and they decided to find shelter in an old barn.

Once inside, Archibald pressed himself on her and she again gave in easily. His lips were so soft and his kisses unhurried and very sweet -- unlike Tommy's feverish snogging.

This time, he opened her dress and sucked on one of her nipples while his hand stroked and pulled on the other. She found herself rapidly overtaken by desire. He rolled partially on top of her, and she could distinctly feel his throbbing erection.

The hand on her breast started lightly sliding over her stomach, making it flutter. Jenny knew she should stop him, keep him from going further, but somehow she could not. Soon his hand slipped inside her knickers and one fat finger found her slit.

"Please don't," Jenny told him. "I shouldn't."

"You know you want to, though," he rasped in her ear. "Tell me you don't, young Jenny."

She sighed, and after a moment of hesitation he began stroking between her legs again. Her orgasm quickly began to build.

"Jenny," he said to her, "you enjoy the art of love, don't you?"

For a moment she thought he was referring to the book she'd been reading in his library. Then she realized this was his way of asking if she liked what he was doing. The feelings washing over her body were so intense, so voluptuous, that she could only answer, "Oh, yes."

His finger gently massaged her clitoris bringing her up higher, then he began using his thumb as well, pulling at it as she'd done the night before. Overcome with her lust, Jenny reached down and felt along his trousers. She could not believe the size of his manhood, lying flat against his stomach. Surely, her perception had to be distorted.

Sir Archibald's fingers slowed down, their touch on her hot clit barely perceptible and she found herself growing frustrated at him toying with her.

"Just a little longer," she whimpered. "Please let me finish."

He smiled as her. "Tell me you're all mine."

"I have a boyfriend. We're going to be married."

"Tell me you're mine," he repeated.

Her sexual urges were too strong now to be ignored. She had to finish!

"I will be yours."

"Good," Sir Archibald said, "and now your reward."

Leaning over he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth and then bit down rather hard. the pain pushed Jenny over the edge, causing her to scream out as her body thrashed around next to her lover.

The rain started falling harder, pounding onto the roof of the barn loudly. The girl suddenly became aware that it was someone knocking on the door. Coming up out of her heavy sleep, she knew it was her mother at her door.

"Jenny, dear!" What is going on in there? Are you all right?"

"Just a bad dream, mum," she answered groggily. "I'm all right."

Reassured, her mother turned and went back downstairs. Jenny looked at her bedside clock. It was only half eleven.

This time she was awake for hours, thinking about the end of her dream, as she'd been fighting her way to consciousness. Sir Archibald's voice echoed in her ears: "Come to me, Jenny. I want you and you want me. You know where to go."

Her body throbbed, still humming with desire, but she could not bring herself to do anything about it. It was as if something or someone was preventing it.

Early next morning, Jenny's hands were shaking as she fitted the key into the outside below-stairs door of Flamborough Hall.

I must be crazy, she thought. I could get in so much trouble for this! What in heaven's name has come over me?

Looking around for any prying eyes that might have seen her, she slipped inside and locked the door behind her, and stood there for a minute, trying to calm her nerves. The house was silent as a tomb.

Going quickly upstairs, she went to the library, retrieved the white book from the high shelf and thumbed to the page with the photo of the man making love to the woman in that strange chair. Staring at it, she felt certain this was indeed Sir Archibald behind the mask.

Jenny turned to the large portrait of him over the mantel. He seemed to be staring down at her with a quizzical smile on his face. She shrugged it off as a trick of the artist who'd painted it. Her eyes dropped down to his trousers and she gasped as she realized the outline of his erect penis could be seen if one looked closely. It was flat against his abdomen and reached past his belt. If the painting was accurate, it must have been enormous.

She looked again at the book. Only part of his penis could be seen in the photo, but it was obvious now that a great deal of it must be inside the woman. No wonder she appeared to be swooning!

The dreams of the past few days came back to her. She could play them back in her head like a show on the telly. The orgasms she'd experienced were like nothing she could have imagined. Could she ever enjoy something like that in waking life? The mere thought of it made her wet.

A wicked thought came into her head. If she rearranged the shelf where the book had been, spreading things out a bit, no one would ever know it had been there. Jenny was sure the person cataloguing the library hadn't gotten to that case yet. The book would be hers. It was a matter of only a few minutes work to accomplish. Her face burned hot as she put the book into her shoulder bag.

Jenny left the room and made her way below stairs. She should be going home soon, but she knew she wouldn't do that until she'd peeked inside the locked room.

Her hands had become sweaty and she fumbled with the heavy key, almost dropping it. The old lock accepted the key smoothly, making the nervous girl think of a cock slipping into a cunt.

Where had that nasty thought come from?

She grabbed the handle and pulled hard. The door barely moved. Putting one foot on the frame, she pulled harder, leaning back as the door started to swing open. It was very thick and very heavy, easily several hundred pounds.

The room had no windows so she could only see a few feet into it. Unlike the rest of the house, the floor was clean as if it had just been swept. The Reeves' must have been caring for it ever since Sir Archibald left. Why?

Jenny stepped forward to feel for a light switch. The door, obviously on a spring was pushing against her and its weight made it hard to hold back. As she leaned in a bit farther, something ran across her sandaled foot. Probably merely a mouse, but it startled her and she lifted her foot. The weight of the door easily overbalanced her and she tumbled into the room. The crash of the door slamming shut nearly deafened her.

Bugger! she thought, then realized it was utterly black around her.

Panic started to close in and she scrambled to her feet. Pushing as hard as she could on the door, she could not move it.

Jenny knew she had to have light. To be stuck alone in this blackness would be too much to bear. Groping, she found the door frame and felt along the wall farther and farther until she found a light switch.

"Please, God, let it work," she said out loud.

Glorious light flooded the room, far brighter than anything she would have expected. She turned around and gasped. There on a raised dais in the centre of the room under the brightest lights of all stood that strange chair from the photo in the book.

Fighting down her panic, Jenny turned to look at the door. It's inside was smooth and polished, so it seemed like a large mirror. The eyes gazing back at her seemed calmer than she felt. All the bright lights certainly helped in that regard.

They'll all be back here tomorrow, she thought, and eventually they'll find me. Mum is going to completely freak out over my not coming home tonight, though.

Then it hit her that they would find her in this room. How could she possibly explain her way out of it?

She slipped off her shoulder bag and began an inspection of her prison. Without the bright lights on, it probably would have been very cold and damp. That was a lucky thing considering she'd probably have to spend the entire night in here.

It was roughly 30' by 30' and the stone walls made it feel a lot like a dungeon. Jenny found out how accurate that was when she reached the far wall. Mounted into the stone were manacles and leg irons to hold three people. She shivered. What had Sir Archibald and his friends gotten into down here? Had he really been a debaucher of young ladies as Lainey had said?

One side of the room had cabinets and cupboards. Inside these Jenny found jars of exotic-smelling oils, clothing (mostly togas and the like), more restraining devices, and in one very wide drawer lined with velvet, row upon row of glass phalluses of all different shapes, colours and sizes, some in quite bizarre shapes.

Jenny idly picked one up and the air around her seemed to crackle. She faintly detected the presence of someone or something, so she quickly put it back. What she'd been finding in the room was making her uncomfortable, but also more curious about the late owner of the building.

The fourth wall was lined with beds as she discovered when she lifted the sheets covering them. It was not hard to guess what their purpose was. Mirrors were mounted on the ceiling above each.

Once again back at the door, she tried to get it to open, but it remained immovable. At least the key was sticking out the other side and would probably be very obvious to anyone. She could only hope they would get down to searching the place as soon as possible, maybe even tonight -- if she were lucky.

The room was now getting quite warm, so Jenny took off her sandals to enjoy the feel of the cold stone. Sitting down on one of the beds, she lay back and looked at the ceiling. It was also made of the same rough, gray stone. She could yell herself hoarse and not stand the remotest chance of anyone hearing her.

With nothing else to do, she retrieved the book from her shoulder bag.

Once more, looking through the book, made her feel decidedly horny. Now that she'd seen the room, she knew where several more of the photographs had been taken. A careful inspection of the book revealed that a number more had been taken in various rooms of the mansion. Maybe this book was a private printing by Sir Archibald himself since there was no listing of any publisher in the front.

She put the book down a number of times but kept picking it up to look at the pictures and read the descriptions. She recognized the velvet-lined drawer in a photo in a section dedicated to the use of phalluses. Jenny studied the description of methods used to give a woman pleasure and began to feel her face grow hot.

I have a lot of time to kill, she thought, I might as well enjoy myself a bit.

She went over to the drawer and slid it open. The phalluses gleamed in the light like jewels. Here eyes were drawn to exotically-shaped ones with knobs on the glass, huge heads, bends and the like. The top row had over two dozen of basically the same shape and design, starting with ones about 4" and narrow, to the biggest which was probably 12" and very thick. The head on it was huge. She doubted any woman could fit it inside.

One, she guessed was near the size of Tommy, so she reached out for this first. This time nothing odd happened. The phallus was curiously warm in her hands, as if someone had recently been holding it. A thought came into her mind: she needed something to lubricate it a bit. If she was going to do it with her beau, she might well use her time in this room to gain a little experience.

Soon she was back at the bed with the glass phallus and a jar of pleasant-smelling oil. The bed was covered with a beautiful counterpane and she didn't want to stain it with the oil.

Why not use the metal chair contraption? Any mess there could be easily cleaned up.

Four bright spotlights shone down on the round 12' dais it was mounted on and as Jenny stepped up, all the other lights in the room dimmed, as if she were stepping onto a stage. The chair had arms with hand grips, a thick centre post holding it up, legs with foot rests, all jointed much like a human body. The seat and back were also sculpted to provide form-fitting support.

Sitting down gingerly on it, she found it surprisingly comfortable and quite warm from the lights. Putting her feet under the bar on the foot rests, she was surprised how snugly it fit. If she moved her legs, the chair's legs followed. The hand grips on the arms were the same. Plus there were two buttons on the right hand one. Jenny quickly found if you pressed one button, the chair locked into position. Pressed the other and it released.

Very smart design, she thought. Archibald was a clever man.

She leaned back in the chair, its shape cradling her body, and slid her buttocks forward. Spreading her legs, the chair's legs followed smoothly. At that point she realized that she still needed to remove her knickers.

Jenny sat up again, moving the chair to its neutral position. She dismounted from it, slipped her cotton knickers down her legs, then picked up the phallus and lightly lubricated it and herself with some oil. Sitting back down, she moved the chair to a position where she was leaning back slightly with her legs spread and bent a bit at the knees. Locking it in place, she held the phallus with two hands began running it up and down her slit.

Ohhhhh. It felt SO nice. Would Tommy feel this good if he did the same to her? She couldn't wait to find out. The rim of the phallus head pushed at her opening so insistently and deliciously that she felt her passion quickly rise.

When she'd taken it out of the case, she hadn't intended to use it inside her. When her virginity was taken it should be taken by a real cock, not one made of glass! But now that resolve was beginning to waver. Everyone said that losing your cherry could hurt a lot and wouldn't that ruin the experience? Perhaps she could push it in a bit and see what it felt like.

Shutting her eyes to focus her concentration, she heard Archibald's voice in her head.

"That's it, my lovely Jenny. Pleasure yourself. Feel the erotic heat coursing through your body. You look so beautiful doing that."

Jenny sighed and pressed the glass rod in a bit farther. Its head hit something, then pushed through quite easily. Before she knew what had happened, it was completely inside of her, and it had been almost completely painless. Her hips began moving as she moved the phallus slowly in and out.

"Can that tiny thing in your sweet cunny really give you much pleasure?" the voice in her head asked.

"It's the size of my Tommy," she answered.

"Your Tommy can't be much of a man. There's a special one in the drawer, just perfect for you. It's on the far end of the second row. It's made of red glass."

Jenny knew the voice was right. A quick trip over to the velvet drawer and she was back with the more "endowed" phallus.

"Remove your clothes, Jenny. No one is here to see you and you wouldn't want to mess them, would you?"

It made perfect sense, so she did that, folding them neatly and putting them on one of the beds. Catching a view of herself in the mirrored back of the door, she thought she looked very, very good, sexy, in control. Imagining the handsome lord was actually present in the room made it all seem so much more deliciously naughty. Wait until she told Lainey about her experience!

Once back in position on the chair, Jenny toyed with herself a bit, running the glass tip of the phallus over her clitoris and up and down her slit. When she couldn't hold back any longer, she plunged its full length inside her. It hurt a bit in her unprepared vagina, but she soon relaxed and it felt much, much different than the "Tommy-sized" one.

"Oh yes, that's ever so much better," she told the voice.

"I knew you'd like it. I love watching a beautiful woman like you do herself."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course. You are very lovely. And you certainly raise my, um, temperature."

The voice's comment made her giggle.

Feeling as if he was actually watching made the girl feel positively saucy and she began thrusting the phallus lustily inside herself, performing in her imagination for her dashing rogue.

"That's it, Jenny. Good..."

As her desire rose, the phallus seemed to heat up and swell, feeling larger and larger inside her. She put it down to the fact that she was getting more sensitive until it actually bumped her cervix. Her fingers also seemed to no longer wrap completely around it, either.

All the while, the voice of her phantom lover urged her on, telling her again and again how beautiful and desirable she was, how no man could ever resist her. Her impressionable ego, feeding on these heady compliments, stoked the fire glowing in her loins, until all she could think about was the plunging phallus bringing her upwards and upwards.