The Mansion of Lust Part I

Warning!  Adult sexual content.  You know the drill … you must be of legal age to read this blog.

The Mansion of Lust Part II

The winding road was pitch black.  Andrew* had his high beams on and still couldn’t see a thing past the twists and turns ahead of us.  The thick forest of trees blended overhead to blot out the full moon in the night sky.  He kept looking straight ahead, looking for a private mansion in the country.

“Where are we going again?” I asked.  All I knew was he had paid for a couples weekend at a “retreat” for Dominants and their submissives.

He didn’t bother to respond, as he was too busy navigating the tricky road.  It was obvious someone took great pains to hide this retreat.  I may as well have been blindfolded for the ride.  Eventually the thicket of trees parted and we landed at the edge of beautifully manicured lawns.  We turned into a mile-long driveway past wrought iron gates which automagically opened.  Hills of grass were unbroken until you reached the edge of the main building.  The landscaping was a stark contrast to the dark stone of the house.  A thick wall of trees squared off the east side of the building, but we could faintly make out twinkling lights within the oasis.  All the flowers in front of the grand entrance and to the sides were white, beaming in the moonlight, as if to offer hope in the night.  But … just a touch.

I shivered and wondered what lay ahead for me.

The Mansion was something to behold. Gothic is all I could think of.  Three towers of varying heights rose up in the night sky.  Turrets and spires pierced the sky.  Ornate stonework and gargoyles punctuated the ledges.

As soon as we pulled up to the grand entrance, a valet appeared.

“Your keys, sir?” he simply asked and placed his hands out to receive them.  No need for a ticket.  He would remember which car belonged to which private guest.  Our bags would be delivered to our room.

Always a gentleman, Andrew went around to the passenger side of the car to open the door for me.  I wore a black silk gown with black stilettos.  My black collar was around my neck.  My hair was pulled back and clipped with a bun.  Vibrant red lipstick was slashed across my lips.  I gave him my hand – covered in black silk gloves up past my elbow – and smiled.  His eyes met mine and smiled … a touch of reassurance and a touch of that devil-may-care attitude.  I shivered again.

What had I gotten myself into??!

He took my elbow and guided me up the stairs.  As we approached the ornate double doors, the entranced opened.  Damien, our host, welcomed us.  He looked imposing in his black leather pants and black shirt.  His silver grey hair was longer than Andrew’s.  Damien clasped my hand warmly to welcome us.

“Andrew, so good to see you.  And this is Lisa?” he enquired.

I tentatively smiled back, not quite sure what to think.  He placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned in to kiss both of my cheeks.

“Welcome!” he said.  “Please come in and join us for dinner.”

The summer night was warm so we had no coats.  We were ushered from the main hall into a large dining room on the right.

Andrew and I would be intimately seated at a long dinner table with nine other couples.

They all looked up expectantly … we were the last two to arrive.  I looked questioningly at Andrew as we walked inside the room to two empty seats.  I just wasn’t sure what to make of the arrangements … nor what was expected of me.  It felt like a “Professor Plum did it in the Library with a candlestick” kind of dinner.  Just how far would this go?  He knew my boundaries.

One gorgeous blonde looked trim and sexy in a clingy white dress.  Her eyes flicked a look of appreciation in our direction.  Her dinner companion was her opposite … dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin and a dark suit.  They made a strikingly sexy couple.  A redhead shimmered in a silk green gown while her companion looked sexy in tuxedo.  Ten lovely ladies with ten dashingly handsome men awaiting the night’s games.

The table was long and narrow with five couples on each side.  Each end at the head of the table was reserved for our host and hostess.  As befitting the banquet, the table was ornately set.  A black tablecloth over the bare wood.  Ornate black and white china placed at each setting.  A formal arrangement of plates, goblets and silverware.  Black and white tulips lined up in rectangular vases in between black and white candles.  Individual trays of white salt and black pepper were laid out for each diner.

Two servants appeared out of nowhere to seat us.

We sat down and said good evening to everyone … no formal introductions were made from the other dinner companions.  This was not information that needed to be shared tonight.  Half of the room knew why we were here.  Half didn’t.

Each of our private waiters came forward to pour a glass of wine.

“If there is anything you would like Master, please don’t hesitate to ring.  I am trained to listen for your bell alone.”  the little waif said to Andrew.  I admit my claws were coming out … she was paying far too much attention to my man.  My eyes flicked a warning at her while I smiled.  Meow.

With that she bowed and backed away.

Plates of delicious appetizers were served with the wine.  Just as we settled back to enjoy the food and drink, our hostesss – Damien’s wife arrived.  He introduced her as Dawn.  She was stunning in a red strapless gown.  Her dark hair tumbled in curls around her pale face.  She wore a diamond collar.

“Ladies!” she announced as she clapped her hands.  “If you could all follow me, we will change so that we may serve our Masters.”

One by one, we put down our wine glasses and followed her.  Dawn took us to another room at the back of the mansion, which was outfitted with large and ornate change rooms.  Each room had a wing chair and a full sized framed mirror leaning against one wall.  Each lady had a maid who assisted us in undressing and donning the costume our partners had chosen for us.  Our gowns would be drycleaned and placed in our rooms.  The maid who had looked at Andrew a little too long was mine.  She smiled as she handed me a skimpy costume.

It was a french maid’s outfit.  A white “pouf” of cotton barely covered my breasts and my waist was squeezed tiny with a black lace up bustier.  The black skirt barely covered anything and bounced over my ass with a frothy white tutu.  With one finger, she handed me a tiny g-string.  I slipped on black stay-up fishnet stockings with little white bows on the front and placed my feet back in my black stilettos.  My collar remained around my neck.  The maid clipped a short black leash to the front and gave it a tug.

Each lady came out of her changeroom.  Most were in maid outfits similar to mine.  One was a nurse.  Another in a latex leotard.  The blonde was in a seethrough body stocking.  The redhead was in a police officer uniform, complete with handcuffs.

Dawn waited until we were all assembled then spoke.  Our men had paid for a weekend of our submission.  We would all fully submit to their wills and wants.  We had each signed the contract.

We were allowed our safe words.  We were not allowed to refuse.  That meant “end game”.  Who would be the first out?

Each lady would serve her man dinner.  He would decide if she ate.  Or not.  He would decide what the rest of the evening held … Dawn informed us that the Mansion was eqipped for pleasure and pain.

Back in the dining room we lined up beside our men.  Andrew looked at me appreciatively and beckoned for me to stand beside him.  His hand slid up my skirt.  There was barely anything stopping him.  I was embarrassed.  My cheeks burned red as I tried to recover from the shock as other people watched.

The staff placed the first course on serving tables … Lobster Bisque.  Rich, creamy soup made for royalty.  I served Andrew then he invited me to sit next to him.  He nodded his approval as I served myself soup.  I tummy growled in hunger and I ate quickly.  His hand reached over to catch a creamy drop on my lips.

“Looks like cum.” he said with a grin.

Soup gave way to salad.

Salad plates were replaced with entrees of Cabernet Filet Mignon, Garlic Potatoes and Buttered Carrots.  The carrots were extremely large … and cooked whole.  I imagined my ability to swallow would be tested … so I didn’t bother to cut it.  With a smile I pierced the large end of the carrot and tilted my head forward slightly to take it in.  All the way, then backed off to take a bite.  I placed the carrot and fork down to chew politely.

All eyes at the table were on me.

“Good girl.” Andrew smiled his approval.

I got up and asked Andrew if he would like his wine refilled.  He nodded and I refilled our goblets.

The plates – though several courses – were not large, but delicious.  Empty platters were removed and replaced with cherries over cheesecake.  Rich coffee with cream was also served.

Andrew was impatient and kept reaching in between my legs as the gentleman seated to my left watched.

“Take your time,” our host said.  “There will be cheese and fruit platters scattered throughout the dungeon tonight.”

Dungeon?!  I turned to look at Andrew.

He smiled, raised his wine glass to me and drank.  I picked up my glass … and gulped.

Andrew leaned over my shoulder and scooped his fingers though my cake.  He put both fingers in his mouth and sucked.  I closed my eyes and purred.

I reached over to scoop some with my fingers to feed him.

Our host clapped his hands and announced dinner was over.  “You’ve each been assigned a room according to your … tastes.  Whatever you need.  Whatever you’ve asked for.  Is beyond your door.”

We arose from the table and followed him down the steep, spiral stone stairwell.  Andrew grabbed my arm to steady me in my high heels.

“Are we going to hell?  Or is this someone’s idea of heaven?” someone ahead of me asked.  I wondered myself.

He pulled out the heavy iron key I had been given and opened the steel door to Room 22 and pushed me inside.

The room was heaven and hell.  Large cut stone made the walls.  Torches with real flames lit the interior.  There was a heavy oak unit brimming over with all the toys to tempt and torture.  Chain link cuffs for arms and legs were bolted to the wall.

The ceiling was domed and painted to resemble an angry night sky, partly cloudy on one side.  In one corner of the mural, the sun tried to peek through.  In the opposite corner, a full moon was trying to set.  Small pieces of shimmering mica embedded in the paint gave the illusion of stars.

The fireplace was banked low … just enough to keep the chill out of the air.

The stone floor was bare except for a bear skin rug.  The bed was custom made.  Certainly larger than necessary for two people … it looked like it was built for more.  Piles of cushions and pillows were arranged by the headboard.

A large glass dildo was sitting like a tiara on one cushion in the middle of the bed.

Andrew pulled me towards him and we embraced, hungry for each other.

“Get undressed.” he demanded.  I obeyed.  Each strip of clothing came off … except for my collar.  I laid the maid’s outfit on a chair.

“Undress me.” he commanded.

I pulled away and began to undress him.  Unbuttoned his shirt.  Pulled it off.  I slid to my knees to untie his shoes.  Carefully, I helped him step out of each shoe and sock.  When I stood up – tiny in comparison to Andrew – I undid his belt and held it out for him.  He would want that for later …  I then undid his pant button and slid his zipper down.  His pants pooled down to the floor and he stepped out of them and kicked them away.  I peeled his black underwear down and slid to my knees.  As I looked up and smiled, I stuck out the tip of my tongue.  His head rolled back in pleasure.  Such a fucking turn-on.  His slave had pierced her tongue for him.

He called me his beautiful sex kitten.  I closed my eyes.  He grabbed his red, swollen cock and positioned it in my mouth, rubbing the tip in between my teeth.  With one hand, he grasped my hair and held as he pushed me onto his cock.  Once it was in to the hilt, he began to slowly fuck.

I gasped and choked but never gave up.

Andrew looked up at the wrist and ankle cuffs chained to the wall.  He backed away and put his hands out to pull me up.  My man walked me over to the wall, spun me around and closed the clasps over each wrist and ankle.  Spreadeagled against the wall.  Helpless.  His.

He grabbed my hair again and yanked roughly as he slid into me.

“Bitch!” he said.  “You are going to take it against the wall.”

I stood there and let him fuck.  I would not be allowed to come until he said.  So I thought of something else.  It was ooooohhhh sooooooooo hard.  Because I love fucking him.  But I played the part as the unwilling lover and turned away.

Andrew roared like a lion when he came.  Once his orgasm had crashed to a halt, he pulled out, cum seeping out of me.  He blew a load, having to wait so long for this fantasy-cum-true.  He grabbed his pants and put them on.  Andrew left the room, casually saying he wanted more wine.  And left me chained to the wall …

Dutifully your slave,


*Name(s) changed to protect the guilty!

Read the Fox Blog:  hear what the Fox really has to say

© FoxFresh 2017


4 Comments Add yours

  1. Jes says:

    Wow! This is so amazing! So very well written! I LOVE it! By far, the best thing I have read in a long time! I was excited and turned on, clinging to the edge of my seat the entire time! Love it!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Lisa says:

      Thank you! Stay tuned for Part III!


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