It only took Julian d’Alveda and me a few days to prepare Candle Street Hall for a visit from the Devil. All the equipment we needed was already there, among the gear needed for the estate, except the hoof-shaped boots that were essential to the plan. Those Julian purchased from an online company dedicated to providing kinky footwear for transvestites, because we needed the right shape but nothing made for women would fit. They were black leather and knee length, with zips to do them up, easy to get on and off. I knocked off the heels and fixed my carefully carved hooves to the soles, with brilliant results.
Not only did Julian leave footprints like those of an impossibly large goat walking on its hind legs, but he looked amazing. He was over six foot anyway, but with the boots on he was nearer seven and had to walk with a long, open stride, more animal than human. Watching him come towards me through the woods in the evening gloom was eerie and, if I hadn’t known it was him, I’d have run – and kept running until I was in Norwich, or preferably London. As it was he made me feel small and vulnerable, but in a very sexy way, so much so that I insisted he take me then and there, with me kneeling in one of the windows of the folly with my bottom pushed out at the right height for him to enter me. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it felt great, with my head full of images of him stalking me through the woods, catching me and fucking me to leave me pregnant with the Devil’s child.
I told him what I’d been thinking about afterwards, which had him laughing and grinning, well pleased both with our work and with me. That night I told him more, admitting to my fantasies about being caught by Vanessa, if not the juicy details. To my surprise and delight it turned him on as much as it did me, only without the guilt. I got taken again, this time hard and fast, because I’d got him so turned on he couldn’t hold back. I had hoped he’d take his time and be rude with me, but there was still a happy smile on my face as I drifted towards sleep with his arms still around me.
We’d tried to leave some hoof prints, but it hadn’t rained in over a week and the ground was too hard to take a good impression. All we had were a few scuff marks among the leaves on the path, too faint to be spotted by accident. We needed a wet night, and the right group of people not too long after, leaving both of us keyed up and expectant as one dry, sunny day followed on the heels of the next.
Everything else was perfect. I’d been drunk and horny when I’d told him about Vanessa, but even then I’d been worried he think I was unfaithful, or a slut. His reaction had surprised and delighted me, making our relationship more open, and he’d taken to talking dirty to me during sex, describing how I looked in whatever rude position he’d put me in and what would be showing to Vanessa if she caught us. Once he went further still, describing what Vanessa would do to me, but it was only to lick her, which gave me a lovely orgasm but fell far short of the filthy details I’d been imagining.
The weekend was busier than any other I’d known, with both Julian and I struggling to cope with two full coachloads of tourists, most of whom were German. They left us exhausted, and once the last of them had gone we fell into what had become a regular evening routine more gratefully than ever, drinking cold white wine at the kitchen table while we prepared dinner together. A second bottle followed the first, leaving me feeling mellow and ready for bed. It was still light, but we went up anyway, sharing the shower and drying off together before tumbling onto Julian’s bed. I was face down, and he began to massage my neck with his fingertips, something I could never resist.
He knew I was tired and he took his time, not saying a word as he soothed the muscles of my neck and shoulders, moving lower only when I’d begun to sigh with contentment. Even then he concentrated on my legs and back, bringing my pleasure very slowly higher until, at last, I wanted more than he was giving and had begun to push up my hips. Seeing how excited I was, he gave a soft chuckle.
‘Be patient, Chloe.’
As he spoke he slapped my bottom, not hard, but that didn’t matter. That single gentle pat brought my fantasy of being spanked back, more urgent than ever, and I was too drunk and too horny not to respond.
‘Go on then.’
‘Go on what?’
‘What you just did. Do it again, if you like.’
He did, no harder than before, then moved back to massaging my back. I gave him an encouraging wiggle but he ignored me and, with that, I gave in to my need.
‘Spank me, Julian.’
My words were a whisper, my voice full of embarrassment, which grew sharper as he replied.
‘Spank you? What, as if you’ve been a naughty girl?’
‘Yes. Please, Julian, spank me, spank my bottom, just as if I’ve been a naughty girl.’
He gave a soft chuckle and his hand moved down to touch me where I wanted, and to spank me, stroking and squeezing at my cheeks, giving me a sudden, sharp smack, stroking and squeezing again, smacking again. Now it was hard enough to make my skin tingle, a lovely sensation anyway but so much better for the thoughts in my head, the way he’d called me a naughty girl, and how what he was doing might become a punishment or be done to humiliate me in front of Vanessa, or by Vanessa. Now I could tell him.