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Authors: Bruce McLachlan

Tags: #bdsm, erotica

SlavesofMistressDespoiler (26 page)

BOOK: SlavesofMistressDespoiler
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“So what? I bet he’s got a few choice colts in that palace of his. And I bet plenty of other nobles do too. You think because we’re not supposed to, we aren’t going to do it? Since when do rules mean a damn to us?”

“Nobles of the world unite?”

“Or at least those of home. Mind you, the other sects are nowhere near as permissive as ours.”

“His Jade-ness must take a lot of flak for that.”

“No doubt, but he can handle it. We’re powerful enough to tell any other mewling nobles to shove it if they get into an interfering or judgmental mood.”

“You going to the next annual thing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. All that desert though? I’ve been in England too long, I’ll probably melt from the heat,” stated the Mistress with a jovial tone, and struck the woman again, continuing the lambasting deluge.

Lynn could feel sweat upon her, the slave perspiring as she strove to keep still and take what had been ordained for her. Salty tears dropped onto the back of Lynn’s neck, and she felt envious of the slave. To be so well conditioned, to be such a prize specimen. The feel of this woman suffering on top of her, displaying such a grand feat of courage in the face of such trial, she was jealous to the point of insanity. She wanted to be like this, to attain such a state and eclipse it. If she could be an even more superlative slave, then she would be more prized than this woman, and to be superior to this salacious female would be a dream come true.

“By the way, I have that belt you wanted. Is it for the male?”

“Yes. I’ll install it the next time he does something bad. Complete chastity does wonders for the submissive nature.”

“Do you want one for this slave?”

“Probably. I have a feeling she’ll start pleasuring herself on the sly once we get more into our roles here, and we can’t have that, can we?”

“Indeed not. You want me to measure her before we go?”

“I think that’d save some time.”

“So, speaking of time, how long before you come back?” he asked, replacing the Mistress’ stroke with one of his own brutal and precision lashes.

“I’m going to pursue things here for a while, maybe use the contact magazines they have, see what else I can find.”

“Is that wise?”

“If I find anything that’s any good, I’ll sell it to the Sect. Even if they aren’t up to it, having other slaves here will get these two used to the concept, help ease them into their roles for our return.”

After delivering her turn of the cane, she stepped back as the Grand Duke moved in once more.

“I must admit, Fire Opal has developed nicely,” she added as the swish of the cane poured through the air before slamming into the buttocks of the girl, making her jolt upon Lynn.

“It wasn’t easy, she’s my magnum opus. It’s taken years and a lot of effort to get her to this stage. I can’t wait until she goes Jade.”

“Perhaps you should hold a party for it. A
coming of age
type thing.”

“Not a bad idea. By the way, it’s your stroke,” he commented.

“Sorry,” the Mistress absently remarked, and returned to add her own contribution to Fire Opal’s dismay.

“You’re going to stop this ridiculous charade then?” stated the man with derision, waving a hand and indicating the house.

“With the money you made from that last deal with that Parisian Sect, I would have thought you able to buy Buckingham palace by now.”

“I like to work inconspicuously. I’m an assassin in the shadows, not a tank and ticker tape parade through the streets kind of gal,” she replied dryly before continuing with a more blasé demeanour, like friends chatting over coffee, except that instead of a steaming beverage, it was a whimpering beautiful slave whose rear had to be scorching to the touch by now.

“But yes, I’m going to step things up around here a bit. Do some redecorating, that’s for certain. But I like this place. It’s sort of cosy.”

“You are really, really odd,” he tutted, and reached his cane forward. The woman turned and sniffed back her tears before kissing the tip and removing herself from Lynn’s body.

“I mean, how long have you hidden everything about yourself? It’s been like two years of complete fabrication. I hope this was worth it?” he commented, accepting the leash as the women knelt before him and offered it up.

“You’ll see, Grand Duke. You’ll see,” she smirked, and settled beside Lynn, running a hand down her back, the skin marked with a sheen of dampness from the perspiration of the suffering slave.

“Well, do I get to sample this creature or what?” he asked impatiently.

“Maybe,” the Mistress uttered slowly, looking into Lynn’s eyes.

Lynn was livid with worry, terribly afraid, torn by the things she had heard, the secrets that had half revealed themselves, exposing that far more was going on here, but not what it was or meant or what would follow. Lynn didn’t want another using her, was afraid of it, but the Mistress was reading it easily in her eyes and knew she needed to be defiled such so she could really and fully appreciate her dominion.

“I think so,” she finally permitted, smiling as Lynn shook her head and burbled her pleas not to do this to her.

“Now you be good and do as your told. You’re mine, you have to accept that I shall appoint others over you. My male slave accepted it, and so should you if you want to make me happy,” she stated, instantly causing Lynn to dedicate herself to trying to accept this, for otherwise the lowly slave next door would have outdone her, and after her recent vow to develop herself into a perfect slave, she could not fall at the first hurdle presented to her.

The Mistress stepped back and let the man replace her. The mattress sagged under him as he sat beside her, and she stiffened when his hand began to wander up and down her body.

“A bit timid, is she not?”

“Very.”

“Intriguing. A strange blend. She is slender and frail looking, delicate, inviting chains and bondage with this sickly sweet air of innocence and helplessness. You would expect her to be naturally submissive, yet she recoils at a touch.”

“I’ve been spoiling her. She’s had a rough time with the men of her life, so I’ve been treating her solely to females.”

“You mean you?”

“Of course.”

A hand closed about her breast and another cupped her stinging rump, making Lynn splutter and panic, the sense of being demeaned, of being molested by a stranger was intense, and the only thing keeping her from completely losing control was the presence of the Mistress.

“Well, I can see we shall have to change her mind one of these days. But in the meantime, we shall see what she feels like. I take it you have no objections?” he asked of the Mistress, not even deeming Lynn to have an opinion worth noting.

“Go right ahead. It’ll assist her training. Call it aversion therapy,” she chuckled, sauntering over and kneeling at the head of the bed, holding Lynn’s face and feeding on her anxiety.

The man clicked his fingers and indicated back to his slave. The woman knew what was expected of her and fished in the case, removing the candle and lighter, she lit the wick and presented her master with the black rod.

Moving between her splayed legs, he lifted the waxen shaft over her buttocks, wafting it back and forth as it continued to eat away at itself. A slight tilt and molten rain descended onto Lynn’s rear. The hot teeth gnawed into her skin once more, making her whimper, her eyes fixed to those of her Mistress.

The Grand Duke continued, dripping the wax into the cleft of her rear, making her fight her bonds, shaking from side to side in a bid to find shelter, unable to hide from the pursuit of the hounding candle. She burbled her begging solicitation for mercy as he targeted her inner thighs, devolving her into a maenad of frantic movement.

For a long period he assailed her thus, finally stopping and blowing out the source of her consternation. Some vigorous picking removed the residue and he ended with a hearty smack that made her jerk from shock, though more from the unexpected loud noise than the effects.

“Prepare her for me, Fire Opal,” he commanded, moving away and letting the woman replace him.

Lynn felt hands draw aside her underwear and then with force they defeated her token resistance and spread her cheeks. When a squirming tongue touched her rear she fought to deny access, squeezing her cheeks as hard as she could. But Fire Opal was stronger than she looked, and by hooking nails into the flesh of her buttocks, Lynn was punished for her attempts.

The lips of the woman kissed her rear and suddenly the tongue opened her and slithered in. Lynn squealed in shock, the bizarre sensation making her stiffen and try and drive out the intruding organ. Soft and wet, it pawed within her, driving deep, the long organ of the woman exploring her insides.

The Mistress sniggered and kept a wide grin at the sight of Lynn’s confusion, the new experience one that had her senses in a storm of contradictory messages. It repelled, yet pleasured, so she was torn how she should react.

“That will do, slave,” stated the man, and the woman made way for his approach.

The sound of his trousers being opened reached Lynn’s ears and she went pale with horror. The Mistress saw the reaction and stroked her hair.

“Sssh, don’t worry. It’ll be over soon if you’re good. There are such treats in store for you after this. But be good, you have to impress before you get your prize,” she whispered.

The Grand Duke took hold of her hips, lifting her up a little and then steering himself into the wet hole. With a gradual drive he started his insertion, stretching her rear terribly, paining her more than she could take. Lynn whimpered and shook, striving to endure, but it was too difficult.

“Damn. What is she? A virgin? I couldn’t even fit a finger in here,” he cursed with a hint of amusement, removing himself and letting Lynn calm herself.

“She’s just inexperienced, she needs tuition,” commented the Mistress, running a finger down Lynn’s face, capturing one of her tears as it ran for her jaw line.

“Fire Opal, loosen this slave up a little will you?” he ordered.

Lynn flung her head aside and saw the woman concealing a smile as she started to don a harness about her abdomen, the jelly dildo jutting out and hanging loose, the toy possessed of considerable size.

Walking around to her rear, the strap on waggled limply, the purple length slapping her thighs as it drooped. The Duke passed her and watched with folded impatient arms, but equally he was eager to see this act of female-to-female intercourse.

Fire Opal ran her gentle hands down Lynn’s rear, running them over the imprints her nails had left behind. Once more the woman’s mouth kissed her, her tongue gliding gracefully through and lubricating Lynn in readiness.

The Mistress placed a hand to each of her slave’s cheeks and held her steady, keeping her face forward and meeting her own gaze, intending not to miss one moment of Lynn’s reactions.

The tip of the phallus reached her rear and started to slither in, the soft material giving greatly. Rocking back and forth, the opening was made more amiable to intrusion, and Lynn slowly began to accommodate more and more, her sphincter being taught through constant drives to accept the full width. With a final plunging drive the entire shaft was pushed into Lynn, the flexible rod negotiating the twists and turns within her to sheath itself to the root.

Fire Opal began a dilatory rape, delving into Lynn as she gasped and wriggled under the inserted shaft, dreading the point where a real specimen would be replacing it.

The woman stroked her with tenderness, reaching under to caress her breasts, making Lynn more willing to accept this deed, and against all her wishes to the contrary she started to revel in the slow steady grind of the soft dildo into her.

“There, that should do it,” stated the Mistress, and the woman dragged herself free, bringing a gasp from Lynn as the strap on fled her tracts.

“Let us reposition her first,” commented the Grand Duke.

“As you wish,” replied the Mistress and together the two dominant nobles descended on her.

Her legs and arms were set free of the ropes, the restraints remaining in place. Turned over, she was too exhausted and weak from long confinement to offer much rebellion, and her wrists were once more caught in the same places again. With one leg each they dragged them up and towards her head, using the rest of the rope to tether the fetters to the same posts that held her arms. In this contorted frozen head over heels pose, Lynn strained and gurgled against her gag, unable to straighten out, her rear hanging up in the air, her stomach aching from the position she had been set in.

“Fire Opal, give her a more tasty gag,” stated the Mistress, and taking the woman’s lead, she brought her over to the head of the bed. The Mistress manoeuvred her as she wished, the woman complying without question.

Lynn sobbed and struggled against her bonds as the woman straddled her features, facing the head of the bed, her knees splayed wide and resting on either side of Lynn’s face.

The Mistress removed the gag, drawing the wet ball from Lynn’s dry lips. Before she could even speak, the Mistress put a hand to Fire Opal’s shoulder and drew her in. The shaven sex of the slave smothered her mouth, leaving Lynn’s nose snorting against Fire Opal’s belly, her eyes still able to behold her monitoring Mistress.

BOOK: SlavesofMistressDespoiler
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