Slavegirl In Training 2
by John Savage
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2009 John Savage
Published by Strict Publishing International
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Chapter I
New Owner
The trip was long and most uncomfortable for Tanya. In the darkness of her coffin prison, she could only pray that she would again see sunlight. She was naked, tightly bound with ropes, and strapped down to the bottom of a coffin. She did not know it, but the reason they had chosen a coffin was so that there would be no problem shipping an undocumented young woman across national borders. A little bribery and the normal reluctance of border inspector to open a coffin, assured that the slavegirl would be delivered safely into her new imprisonment.
It was hot inside the coffin and at times suffocating. Air holes had been provided but functioned only poorly. At times she became light-headed and faint while trying to suck in the needed air. After a few hours of bumping and moving, alternating with long periods of no motion, time began to blur to the imprisoned girl. Surely she had been in there for days, she thought. At other times she thought maybe it had been only a few hours. She was hungry, tired, hurting and drifting in and out of a troubled sleep-like state.
It has been most unexpected when her Master suddenly upped and sold Tanya. Seems he found a new plaything, one that looked like a Hollywood starlet, had a drop-dead gorgeous body, and was very expensive to purchase. A little short of cash but drooling to get his hands on the gorgeous blonde, he made a call to an old acquaintance and ownership of the raven haired, lovely young Tanya was transferred.
She remembered the face looking down at her before the coffin lid closed. The strap around her neck held her head against the satin bottom so she could see only out of the corner of one eye. The woman she had seen when she was brought in to be bound and dumped in the coffin was leaning over her. “We’re going to have such fun,” she had whispered. The dark eyes that looked down at her shone with evil intent.
Memories were all that Tanya had in the darkness; memories of her drunken father one night binding her hands and selling her to that terrible man in the castle. Memories of the constant bondage she had been kept in, ropes and chains and handcuffs. She remembered her first whipping, the horrid flash of pain that seared her bottom like no pain she had ever felt in her young life. Scenes of the tortures that had been inflicted upon her body danced across the mind, each with the memory of the pain and suffering it had brought. She remembered her escape attempt, and the horrible punishment she had endured afterwards.
The thought of what life had become and would continue to be made her want to cry, but she tried to hold back the tears. With the ball gag in her mouth, it was hard enough to breath; she did not need a stuffed-up nose. But the painful memories would not go away. Like scenes from an old movie, they flickered across her mind’s eye, almost as if she were reliving the agony.
Only half conscious, she was not aware that she had ceased being moved and the lid of her coffin was being lifted. Only when bright light fell upon her face did she slowly come back to reality. Then there were hands unlocking the small padlocks on the straps and lifting her from the box. She was set down on some hard surface then left for a few minutes while the coffin was closed and taken away.
Around her, as her eyes grew used to the bright light, she could see walls of polished oak. There was the woman she had seen just before she had been placed in the coffin; the woman who she understood was her new owner. Two men entered the room. Each wore a uniform of dark blue pants and red and white striped tee-shirts. Like a sack of potatoes, she was rolled over so that she was lying face down on the table. The woman came closer.
“Oh, my! Look at your hands. They are so dark! I do hope that no damage was done to them. The trip did take longer than was expected.”
Her voice held a definite French accent and was filled with mock concern. With her arms behind her, Tanya could not see them but believed this woman that they were discolored. She could not feel from her elbows down to her fingers, and she shared the hope that there was no damage done.
The male hands began working at the knots. It took a while to work them all loose, and longer to unwind the ropes from her body. As they were unpeeled from her flesh, they left deep red indentations. When the last of the ropes came off her arms, they fell to her sides like so much deadweight. As they began working on her leg bindings, Tanya started to moan. The moans increased as circulation returned to the limbs and nerves awoke. The moans turned to cries of agony as abused nerves screamed their protest. It was “pins and needles” carried to an extreme.
Eventually the feeling in her arms and hands approached something like normal and she found she could even wiggle her fingers. Perhaps she had escaped permanent damage – this time. Tanya had proven that she was very flexible and had excellent circulation, but every woman has a limit. She was certain hers had almost come.
The gag had been left in while her arms woke up, undoubtedly to silence the cries and protests. With her hands their normal color, the gag was removed. For a few seconds she could not close her jaw. During the long trip her jaw had been forced open by the ball gag, a most unnatural position, and a most painful one. It had started with a small ache in the muscles on either side of her jaw, and progressed as time went on to an almost unbearable agony.
As she lay there on her side, tears trickling down her face to fall upon the table top, Tanya looked up to her new owner in hopes of seeing some sign of pity on her face. There was none. Instead of concern for a suffering fellow woman, there was a wicked joy at beholding the pain. Tanya lowered her eyes in despair.
“My name is Yvonne but you will, of course, call me ‘Mistress’ at all times,” she told Tanya in an eerie repetition of what her old Master had told her when he first saw her. “It is my understanding that you have been trained as a slavegirl,”she went on. “I hope that your training was not as thorough as it could be. I do so enjoy training a slavegirl in my own way.” She leaned towards the naked girl cringing on the table. “Men think they know how it is done, but it takes another woman to really get into a woman’s mind and rearrange things so that she not only obeys but wants to obey. When I am finished, you will want to obey my slightest wish. You will be eager to debase yourself, to seek pain because it will please me, and receive your greatest joy worshiping at my feet.”
What Tanya wanted to do was spit in her owner’s eye. Perhaps that showed on her tear-stained face, because Mistress Yvonne casually reached out and slapped Tanya hard enough to make her see little flashes of light for a brief second.
“Take her to the dungeon,” Yvonne commanded the two men. “But first give her a shower. She’s been sweating too much in that box.” She turned and walked out without waiting to see if her orders were being obeyed.
One man had been coiling up all the ropes they had taken off her. He put them into a drawer and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs. Tanya looked at the shining steel bracelets with disdain. One man pulled her arms to get her into a sitting position, then off the table onto her feet. The other then took her arms and pulled them behind her back to link them with one of the pairs of handcuffs. He slapped the open cuff against her wrist so that the hinged half swung around and clicked firmly shut. The second pair was then locked on her arms above her elbows.
With one male hand firmly holding her bare arm, she was led from that small room and down a passageway with windows along the left side. Tanya was surprised to see the ocean beyond the windows, with sunshine gleaming on the white-capped waves. A little farther on she saw some boats at anchor. That was when she realized that she was on a boat herself. It was most strange for the peasant girl from a landlocked country, who had never been more than ten miles from her home in her life, to now see the ocean stretching off into the distance. Having had little schooling and no real sense of geography, she had only the vaguest idea that the nearest ocean lay hundreds of miles from her village. It had, indeed, been a long trip in that coffin!
Down a hatchway and along another corridor then down another set of stairs they went. She had to wonder just how big this boat was. It seemed to be at least three decks. She was finally led to a door and made to stand before it while one crewman punched in a code on a keypad. The door opened obediently and she was pushed in.
The room looked like a lounge: wood paneled walls and a sofa in soft blue velvet, along with a couple chairs and a coffee table. The carpet beneath her feet was deep and soft. A window showed the blue ocean and a few white clouds. A second door opened to a different environment, one of harsh contrast to the comfort outside. There were three tiny cells much like jail cells but hardly big enough for a normal person to lay down. There were no bunks, no chairs, only the bare steel walls and the bars of the door. The floor was even stainless steel with a drain in the center. On the other side of the cells was a toilet and a shower stall. As one of the men opened the glass shower door, Tanya noticed that the walls in the cells were not totally bare as she had first thought. In the back wall of each cell was a steel ring a couple inches across. And another ring centered in the ceiling.
The shower stall was also steel walls and a drain, about the same size as the cells. It also had a ring set in the wall and another in the ceiling, along with a showerhead. Tanya was pushed in. As she turned to ask for her hands to be unlocked so she could cleanse herself, a blast of cold water hit her square on. One of the crewmen was holding a short hose and spraying her down. When she was nice and wet all over, he turned a handle and the cold water became cold soapy water. In a few seconds her body was lathered down from the top of her head to her feet. The hose was then turned off and put on a handle inside the shower. From the overhead nozzle came streams of cold water, falling straight down upon her. She stood there, shivering and miserable and trying to keep the soap out of her eyes.
When the last of the soap had been flushed off her, Tanya was pulled from the shower and toweled down by the two men. They worked the towels over her whole body, taking obvious delight in manhandling her breasts and rubbing her bottom long after all the water was gone. Her pubic patch had its share of attention, too.
With the slavegirl now clean and not shivering quite as much, they reluctantly put her into one of the cells. Tanya pressed against the back wall until the men had gone, and then she slid down to sit on the cold steel floor. The handcuffs were tight upon her wrists and elbows, but comfortable compared to the tight ropes and claustrophobic darkness of the coffin.
She had learned a lot from her time as a slavegirl of her prior Master, enough so that she recognized this as another situation of someone who had the ability and knowledge to keep a girl as a total and complete prisoner. With her old Master, every minute of every day she was watched, restrained or caged. Her Master knew how to make escape impossible. This new owner, this Yvonne, was the same kind. Only a massive stroke of good luck would allow Tanya even the slightest chance at escape.
She cried until the tears would not come any longer.
Chapter II
Tanya Gets the Point
They were at sea the next time that Tanya was on deck. It was a day later and not much had happened. She was fed, slept a lot to catch up after her ordeal of traveling in the coffin, and sat around in that tiny cage waiting for something to happen. It once again reminded her that one of the worst torments of being a slavegirl, or any kind of prisoner, was boredom.
In the afternoon of the second day of her new captivity, she was taken out of her cell and escorted up the stairs to the deck then along it to the fantail. There she found a rather large lounge with sofas, comfortable looking chairs, and a couple coffee tables. To one side was a bar and on the other was a complex, expensive looking music system. From the large speakers was coming the soft strains of a Debussy violin sonata. Yvonne was sitting on a sofa with a champagne glass in her hand. She smiled when she saw Tanya being brought in. She patted the sofa next to her with her free hand in invitation.
Tanya went to the sofa and sat down. Her wrists were locked in handcuffs behind her back but she wore no other restraints. Her clothing, as usual, was nothing but bare skin.
“Have you rested up now?” Yvonne asked politely. “I know it was a hard trip for you.”
“I am rested,” Tanya said cautiously.
“Good. You really are a lovely young girl. It is a wonder that the Count let you go, but then he is infatuated with that American girl.” She laughed. “That will end when he discovers that those big breasts are mostly plastic.”
Tanya did not understand what her owner was talking about, so she said nothing.
“The coast you see over there is Greece. I don’t suppose you’ve ever been to Greece. In a couple of days we’ll be reaching Italy.” She turned her eyes from the ocean view to the slavegirl. “I guess you don’t know much about Italy either. The Count said that you came from a peasant family. He said something about your father selling you. How quaint.”
Tanya winced at the reminder of the night her father tied her hands behind her back and turned her over to some soldiers.
“Please feel free to talk,” Yvonne said. “I’ve had a little too much champagne. It is a failing of our race. We French like our wines too much. Well, nevertheless, I am feeling mellow so you may speak your mind. Let’s have a conversation.”
“I don’t know what to say, Mistress.”
“Did the Count whip you often?”
“Yes. He also tortured me in other ways,” Tanya said.
“I’m sure he did. He’s a cruel bastard.” Yvonne giggled slightly, “Of course, I am cruel too. You’ll find out soon enough.” Suddenly she shifted the subject. “How was your trip? Was the coffin comfortable?”
“It was terrible. I could not move and I could hardly breathe.” Tanya shuddered at the memory of the darkness like a tomb. “What would you have done if you opened the lid and found me dead?” she asked.
Yvonne smiled and said simply, “I would have closed the lid and given you a very nice burial at sea.”
Tanya believed her. “Why did you buy me?” she asked finally. “I know my Master bought me because he likes to hurt girls. And use them for sex. But you’re a woman.”
“Honey, have you got a lot to learn.” Yvonne grinned. “And I’ll teach you. Oh, boy, will I!”
Tanya shifted on the sofa. “Will you hurt me?” she asked.
“Why, of course! The Count, that bastard, began your training to be a slavegirl. I shall continue it. When I’m finished with you, you will obey instantly and totally. You will live only to please me. And that means in any and all ways.” She grinned again. “You’ll see. Hell, girl, you will even come to love it when I whip you simply because it shows you that I love my little slavegirl.”
Tanya did not see the logic in that but held her tongue.
Yvonne took another sip of her champagne. “I will show you what I mean,” she said as she put it down.
As her owner rose from the sofa, Tanya noted that this Yvonne had a very nice figure herself. A little more on the slender side but with full breasts and long legs. She went to the bar and opened a drawer. Her hand rummaged around inside for a moment then came out holding something too small for Tanya to see. But as she returned to the sofa, Tanya could make out that it was a needle.
Yvonne sat back down and showed the needle to Tanya. It was the kind used for hand sewing, about two inches long and with a small eyelet at one end. It looked very sharp.
“Gillbert, come here. Unlock her hands.”
One of the crewmen did as he was ordered. Tanya brought her hands around in front of her, rather puzzled as to why they were freed. If her Mistress planned to use that needle to cause her pain, why not leave her arms locked behind her?
Yvonne handed the needle to Tanya, who instinctually took it. When someone hands you an object, the first reaction is to take it. She sat there, looking at the sharp point.
“Slave, I want you to stick that into your left breast,” Yvonne said.
Tanya looked up with a frown on her face. Was this some kind of test? She did not know what to do; obey and be hurt or disobey and who knew what would happen. She just sat there, saying nothing.
“See? You are not yet trained. A properly trained slavegirl would immediately stick it into her breast.”
Yvonne took up her champagne again. “But one day,” she continued with a smile on her face, “you will be happy to stick it into your breast simply because I want you to. You will be happy to stick dozens of them into your breasts until you look like a… What is that word? Porcupine! Yes, until they look like a porcupine with those sharp things sticking out all over.”
Tanya felt herself grow cold inside, both at the thought of that sharp little point going into her flesh and at the idea that she could be so brainwashed as to become what Yvonne was describing. She told herself that it could never happen, but there was doubt nagging at her mind. Maybe… If the pain were strong enough and went on for what seemed like forever, she might be willing to do anything to please her owner. And that was a most frightening thought.
“You can put the needle down,” Yvonne said. “Gillbert, lock her hands again.”
Tanya set the needle down on the coffee table and stood to have her wrists again locked behind her.
“Slave, kneel before me.”
Gone now was the cheerful camaraderie, replaced by stern mastery. Tanya obeyed. “Come closer. Good. Now do not move or you will be whipped.”
Yvonne reached over to pick up the needle. She held it before Tanya’s face to be sure she saw it. Then she cupped one breast in her hand, lifting it slightly. The other hand came down with the needle, point downward towards the tender flesh of her nipple. Tanya whined and had to fight down the instinct to back away. Yvonne pressed the point, not into the nipple, but into the soft flesh just behind it. The skin indented as it resisted the sharp metal point, but finally gave way and the needle sunk in. Tanya cried out. The pain was really rather minor compared to others she had encountered, but still hurt.
Yvonne settled back on the sofa and smiled again. “See? It is hurt but not all that much. Now if I handed you another needle, would you stick it in next to this first one?”
Tanya did not answer. The needle sticking up from her breast had not gone in very far, maybe a quarter of an inch, just enough to hold it in place, but the idea was racing through her mind that it could be shoved in deeper. That frightened her very much.
“I can see by your silence that you would not,” her owner said. “Which is as I expected. But one day that will change.” Those words were spoken quietly but the next were barked out as stern commands. “Gilbert, take her back to her cell. Secure her so that she cannot move at all. Then put a dozen pins into each breast. Leave her that way. Now go.”
A strong male hand upon her arm lifted her to her feet and nearly dragged her out of the lounge. Tanya whined and searched desperately for something to say that might make her owner change her mind. But she was out of the room and moving along the deck towards fresh torture.
The afternoon sun was warm upon her bare skin. She noticed how it shone off the tops of the small waves as the boat made its way through the blue sea. For a brief moment she considered wrenching her arm free from this man and leaping over the railing to the water below. With her hands cuffed behind her she could not swim, but then, coming from a small village with no rivers or lakes around, she had never learned how to swim in the first place. She would drown and she knew it. But for that brief moment the idea that drowning might be preferable to a lifetime of pain and becoming a puppet and toy of such sadistic people. But the moment passed and she was being pulled inside again and down the stairs. She had lacked the courage leap to her death.
In the cell area, the handcuffs were taken off. She immediately reached for the needle still sticking in her skin, but her hand was slapped away. She stood still while Gilbert fetched a length of rope. Then she was pushed up against the bars of her cell and her left arms pulled out to the side. He bound her wrist to one of the bars, quite tightly and with some of the rope going to a crosspiece of metal so she could not move her wrists along the bar. He repeated that with her other wrist, leaving her standing there with widespread arms. Then he took one ankle and pulled it to the side, forcing her to spread her legs. He bound the ankle to another bar, and then repeated that with the other ankle. As her legs spread apart, her body lowered some, taking some of her weight on her wrists.
Tanya stood spread-eagle against the bars, but that was not the end of her binding. More rope was used around her chest, both above and below her breasts, and at her waist, to lash her body solidly to the bars.
Gilbert had to leave the room to find some pins, and Tanya used that opportunity to test her bonds. She quickly found that she could not move at all. When he returned, there was a small box in his hands. Without ceremony, he began sticking the pins into her breasts. These pins were shorter than the needle but just as sharp. And he pushed each in farther that the original needle had gone. Tanya moaned as each one sank into the soft flesh. The pain was most unpleasant and her fingers wiggled uselessly with each infliction of discomfort.
Each of the pins had a small colored ball at the top. Gilbert made a half circle around each nipple, just a little farther away from the nipple than the needle. When he finished, each breast had a colorful arch of tiny balls around the nipple. And they hurt!
He pulled out the original needle, and then stood there for a moment as if wondering whether he should shove it back in, perhaps much deeper than Yvonne had done. But in the end he carried it away with him.
Tanya was miserable as she watched his retreating back. She knew from experience that she would be unable to free herself of the ropes, and that reaching her breasts was also impossible. She did the only thing she could: she shook her breasts. But even in that effort she was thwarted by ropes – in this case by those holding her body to the bars. The tiny jiggle she could manage came nowhere near dislodging the vicious little pins, and actually made them hurt her more. She ceased her efforts and settled down to what she was sure would be a long, uncomfortable wait.
It was.
Chapter III
After Dinner Entertainment
Tanya was grateful when Gilbert returned hours later and removed the pins. She was also surprised to see that there were only a couple of the holes that had a tiny drop of blood. She had expected much more.
She was also untied from the cell bars and, surprisingly, not restrained with anything save for a strong male hand upon her arm, and taken to an adjoining room. The room appeared to be some kind of dressing room. There were closets and dressers and a table with a large mirror and a display of cosmetics. Tanya was measured by Gilbert, who then went to one of the closets and picked out a dress for her. It was a party dress of black satin, with a very low neckline and a hemline that was only a couple inches below her pubic patch. She would be decent when standing, but sitting down would be revealing parts best not revealed in polite company.
Tanya wiggled into the tight dress but had to let Gilbert zipped up the back. Being a peasant girl, she was not used to such fashionable wear. He handed her a pair of shoes that she could only look at with wonder. Never had she seen shoes like those. Had she known more about fashion, she would have known them to be high heels, shining black leather with ankle straps. The heels were very slender and raised five inches higher than the toe. She sat on the chair while he put them on her. They were tight, and when she attempted to stand she would have fallen had it not been for his steadying hand.
“How the hell am I suppose to walk in these?” she asked. He said nothing but indicated with a wave of his hand that she was to walk towards the door. Before she did, she glanced in the mirror and was amazed by what she saw there. The woman looking back was very sexy; more so that Tanya would have ever thought possible. Her curves were accented very well by the tight dress, from the swell of her bosom to the narrow waist and down to the flaring hips. Almost all of the top half of each breast was visible and looked as if it were being squeezed by the dress. And they were.
Gilbert’s hand on her arm urged her towards the door. It took all her concentration to walk the first few wobbly steps. His hand was a big help otherwise she might have fallen several times. By the time they were half way down a corridor, however, she was walking a little more steadily. Still he held on to her arm, for which she was glad.
As they passed by a porthole, she saw a sunset painting the horizon with flaming reds and oranges while the ocean was turning a deep, dark blue. They came to a door and Gilbert halted her there. From his pocket, he withdrew a pair of handcuffs that he locked upon her wrists, but to her surprise in front rather than behind her back. She could see the shiny silver bracelets close around each wrist until the metal was snug against her skin. So secured, she was ushered into the dinning room.
The table could have held twelve people easily but at the moment only two sat there. One was Yvonne, resplendent in a soft blue velvet gown. Around her neck was a diamond necklace, the cost of which would have feed her entire village for at least ten years. Next to Yvonne sat another woman, a younger one, dressed in the feminine equivalent of a business suit. She had blonde hair was cut short in a pixie style that looked rather well on her. Her suit was a very conservative dark gray with a beige blouse and only a single, simple gold chain necklace.
“Come in, slave. Come and have dinner with us,” Yvonne called out cheerfully as if greeting an old friend.
Tanya walked carefully on the carpeted floor over to the seat opposite Yvonne. Suddenly, another crewman was there to pull it out for her. Not being used to such niceties, Tanya was surprised. She sat down and was immediately aware of how much the dress rode up her hips. She was sure that anyone in front of her could see her private part easily. She held her legs together and was glad for the table blocking everyone’s view.
“Allow me to introduce my daughter, Angelique,” Yvonne said with a wave at the other woman. Angelique said nothing, but was giving the handcuffed girl a steady appraisal, such as only one young and beautiful woman can give another. “Actually, Angelique is my step-daughter, but I love her as if she were my real daughter. Although,” she paused to smile at Angelique, “at times we seem more like sisters than mother and daughter.”
Just then a crewman brought in the first course, bowels of onion soup made in the French style, with a piece of toast floating under a topping of melted cheese. Tanya was unsure what it was but followed the lead of the other two women, and quickly found that she liked the mixture of cheese and hearty soup.
The second course was a salad with an oil and vinegar, which Tanya did not like at all. Then the main course was served, something Yvonne called ‘coq au vin”. She translated it as rooster in red wine. It was rather good, although tasting like nothing Tanya had ever tried.
Dessert was crepe suzettes, another dish Tanya had never heard of, let alone tasted.
All during dinner the conversation was very light and mostly between Angelique and Yvonne. Tanya replied if asked a direct question, but for the most part she was ignored. Neither the other two, nor the crewman serving them, seemed to find it unusual that one of the diners had her wrists joined with handcuffs.
When the final dishes were cleared away, Yvonne turned to Tanya with a smile on her face. “It’s time for a little after dinner entertainment,” she told Tanya. Then she turned to Angelique to add, “You will, of course, join us.”
Angelique nodded agreement, but did not seem to find the prospect either pleasant or displeasing.
Tanya wobbled on those high heels after her owner all the way to the lounge at the fantail of the big boat. Angelique followed behind her. With a good meal filling her stomach and only the mild restrains on her wrists, Tanya was feeling half way good. She wondered what was to come, that was only natural, but she did not dread it. She should have.
In the lounge, Yvonne went to the stereo and selected some classical music, Chopin this time. Then she sat down on the sofa and motioned Tanya over to her side. “Come, sit between Angelique and me. Tell me, little slavegirl, did your old master teach you anything about how girls make love to each other?”
“No, Mistress.”
“Pity. Well, we will correct that oversight on the bastard’s part.” Yvonne put her arm around Tanya’s shoulders as if she were an old friend. “We will teach you. It is imperative that you be very skilled in pleasing another woman. Might as well begin now. Kneel between Angelique’s legs.”
Tanya looked over to the other woman and found that she had pulled up her skirt until it was bunched up around her waist. She wore neither panties nor nylons. But what surprised Tanya the most was the fact that this young woman had no pubic hair at all. Villager females where she came from would never have thought of shaving their pubes. That was too big-city for simple country girls.
Tanya knelt between the spread legs, and then shuffled up between the knees without being told to. She had a vague idea of how women made love but had never really thought about it. She wondered what she was supposed to do next. Angelique took her long black hair and gathered it into a ponytail behind her head. Holding that firmly with one hand, she pulled the head down between her legs. At the same time she slid down on the sofa and lifted her hips. Her other hand was spreading her labia.
Tanya did nothing as her face was pulled up until it almost touched Angelique’s pubic mound. She could smell a scent she had never smelt before, something strange and a little bit attractive. For long moments the scene held, two of them expecting something to happen, the third totally uncertain what should happen.
“Damn!” said Yvonne. “She doesn’t know a thing!” She rose from her seat and walked behind Tanya. Grabbing the hem of her dress, she pulled it up until it was bunched around her middle, exposing all of her legs and her smooth ass. “Where’s a whip? Damn it! There’s never one around when you need it.” She went to the bar and rummaged through a drawer, coming up with a riding crop. “This will have to do,” she muttered and returned to the kneeling girl.
First she swung the riding crop so that it hit first the right cheek then the left of Tanya’s ass with loud smacking sounds. Tanya yelped and would have jerked her head up had it not been held in place by the hair.
“Now, listen, slut!” Yvonne hissed. “You use your tongue on her clit. Lick it. Now!”
Tanya felt herself tighten up inside. She could not bring herself to put her tongue on such a private place of another woman. She was sure that it was not right to do that.
A couple more swats with the riding crop and Tanya was crying from the sharp pains in her ass. Two more after that and she began to reconsider. A couple more later she slowly lowered her head in between the open thighs and pushed her tongue out. She jerked it back in when she touched the tender flesh. Angelique sighed at the touch, and then jerked her hair when the tongue retreated. “She’s not doing it,” she said.
A half dozen blows landed swiftly upon Tanya’s bare ass, evoking a half scream at the sudden burst of pain. Her ass felt as if it were on fire. The blows had been delivered with the full force of her owner’s arm.
As quickly as she could, she stuck out her tongue. It touched the exposed area. “Lick it!” came the command from behind her. She began licking the very smooth flesh there, lapping like a dog drinking water. “Don’t push so hard,” Angelique told her. “You want to tease the nerves there. Gentle, gentle.”
Tanya slowed down her tonguing and concentrating upon making each lap as light as she could. Apparently that was working better, because Angelique settled her head back and sighed. Tanya noticed that the whipping of her rear had stopped.
The two of them said nothing more for a few minutes, allowing her to continue her servicing of Angelique. But as Yvonne sensed that Angelique was reaching higher levels of response, getting hotter as it were, she ordered, “Now suck at the little bud there. Gentle take it between your lips and suck softly upon it. And tease it with your tongue tip.”
Tanya did as ordered. She did not want more punishment upon her bottom. Besides, this was not as terrible as she had thought it would be. In fact, she was fascinated by the reaction she was sensing in Angelique. The girl was moaning and pushing her hips up against Tanya’s mouth. It took her a few moments to realize that what she was observing were the same feelings she herself had had when Randle made love to her back in the castle. She remembered that as the only good feelings she experienced during her captivity there. She wondered about what was happening. There was no man pumping away inside Angelique’s sheath. But she was acting as if that were happening. Tanya did not understand.
Suddenly, Angelique cried out loudly and clamped her thighs against the sides of Tanya’s head, holding it in a vice as she shook all over. Had the orgasm lasted longer than half a minute, Tanya would have had trouble breathing with her face hard against Angelique. She shook all over a few times, then the legs eased their pressure against Tanya’s head and she could pull back.
Looking up, Tanya was surprised to see that Angelique looked as if she were asleep. Her eyes were closed but her mouth was open in a small circle. Her face and neck were flushed and her breathing only now slowing down. Remembering the few times she had experienced an orgasm herself, Tanya envied what had happened to Angelique. And was surprised that it made her feel good that she had been the one who made it happen. It was a sense of power – of a sort.
“That was pretty good,” commented Yvonne. “Maybe you’re a natural. Let me see.”
Tanya turned to the older woman to find that she had divested herself of the dress and was standing here naked except for her high heels. “Turn around to face me,” she told Tanya. “Now stand up. Good. Reach down with your hands to touch your feet. Now step through your arms. You can do it. Just put one foot between them. Now the other. Now straighten up. See, your hands are now locked behind your back. Now kneel down again.”
Tanya did as ordered. It surprised her that it was so easy to change her handcuffed wrists from front to back. And she realized that it would be almost as easy to bring them from back to front – provided that her feet were not bound in any way.
Yvonne moved forward until she was straddling the kneeling Tanya. She took Tanya head and tilted it backward. Then she spread her labia and told Tanya to do the same thing to her.
Tanya stuck out her tongue and touched her owner’s private place. The smell was a little different from Angelique. The taste, once she began licking, was also different; a little sharper maybe?
She tongued away, trying her best to do as she had the first time. She could sense the body straddling her tense when she began. She could not see, but Yvonne’s head was lifted as she enjoyed the sensation between her legs. Soon she was moaning with pleasure. Damn, but this slavegirl was good! As she said, a natural.
The result was the same. Yvonne cried out and clutched Tanya’s head tightly between her thighs. Her spasms and shuddering was not as strong as Angelique’s had been, but impressive nevertheless. Finally she backed off and almost fell to the sofa.
Tanya knelt there for a while, watching both of the women enjoying the after glow of their orgasms. A part of her envied the obvious pleasure they had both felt. A part of her wondered at the power she possessed to be able to make someone else feel so strongly. And yet another part yearned to be feeling that same pleasure herself. If only one of them would do the same for her!
It was, of course, not to be. Tanya was a slave, a second – no, third or forth–class citizen. She was something much less than these women. She was a piece of property, something owned. And, as such, she could not expect rational or even considerate behavior from her owner. She should have expected only pain and suffering. Which is exactly what she got.
Yvonne recovered faster than Angelique, who seemed to be spaced out on the sofa, not asleep but certainly floating around someplace else. Yvonne took a deep breath and smiled. “You’re good, you know that? You ever do that before?”
“No, Mistress. If I did, I would have had to go to confession.”
Yvonne laughed. “And a sense of humor!”
Tanya did not feel that she had made a joke.
Yvonne stood and stretched her rather good body. If she had ever had children of her own, it did not show. The tummy was flat and narrow, the legs long and lean. Her breasts were high on her chest and, while not a big as Tanya’s, they stood out nicely with good shape and firmness.
“I feel like screwing something,” Yvonne said. Tanya blinked and wondered what she was talking about. Surely, screwing was another term for sexual intercourse? How could a woman…?
Yvonne went to the bar and the drawers under it, from which came such interesting devices. She pulled out some rope and a handcuff key. Telling Tanya to stand, she unlocked Tanya’s hands but immediately bound them behind her, wrists crossed and tied very tightly. She then took another piece of rope and looped it around Tanya’s arms just above the elbows. When she pulled on that loop, the elbows were forced towards each other. But as the elbow neared, the forearms down by the wrists tried to uncross, prevented from it by the tight ropes around the wrists. The net result was that the more Yvonne pulled, the tighter became the ropes around the wrists. When she could force the elbows no closer together, she looped them several more times, cinched them down, and knotted the rope. Tanya was left with arms tightly bound and her hands becoming numb already from the extreme tightness of the rope around her wrists.
The one thought in Tanya’s mind was that she not be put away in her cell for the night tied like this. With her hands going numb already, she knew that spending the night tied like that would cause terrible damage to her hands. She was about to tell that to Yvonne when she was pushed down to her knees, then bent over so that her chest rested on the sofa next to Angelique, who did not seem to notice.
Yvonne returned to the bar drawers for something else. Had Tanya been able to see, she would have found Yvonne with a very large plastic replica of a male phallus in her hands. The dildo had straps attached to it; straps that allowed her to attach the dildo against her venus mons and hold it in place. It stuck out like a male with a rampaging hard-on.
Yvonne, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, knelt between Tanya’s feet and spread her legs apart with her knees. Then she grasped her hips in both hands and placed the dildo against the entrance to Tanya’s vagina. Tanya had no idea what was going on until the dildo was roughly shoved into her. She gasped and cried out, her body tried to jerk up, and her bound hands reached backwards, none of which dislodged the intruder. So large was the thing that it actually hurt Tanya to have it shoved in there. The fact that she had not been “warmed up” and was hardly lubricated down there, made the impaling all that more painful.
For a few moments Yvonne held onto to Tanya, her hips pushing the dildo as far in as it would go. Then she pulled back some, just enough to make Tanya think that maybe the hurt would stop when it went all the way out. Then she shoved it back in, hard and fast. Tanya cried out again.
There began a parody of the male/female sex act. Yvonne pounded away at Tanya’s pussy like a male in rut, banging against her bare bottom. One hand found its way up to the top of the dress, pushed it down, and clamped onto a breast like a claw. She dug her fingernails into the mound as she was pumping away. Tanya was confused and crying. She had been ravished by men before but it had never felt this huge inside her, nor hurt this much. And her simply peasant background did not include such things as strap-on dildos.
Tanya tried to straighten up, but Yvonne was able to hold her down. She tried to push away with her hands, but the binding of her arms took away any chance of that succeeding. All she could do was endure. And cry.