The Slave (42 page)

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Authors: Laura Antoniou

Tags: #luster editions, #submission, #circlet, #laura antoniou, #Adult, #bdsm, #erotic slavery, #dominance, #bondage, #the marketplace, #erotica, #marketplace series, #erotic novel, #circlet press

BOOK: The Slave
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With more laughter, the two women stripped
the tacky lingerie off of Robin by tearing it in long strips. Each
tug forced Robin to pull against it, to brace herself on her
stretched legs and the balls of her feet, and the women were quick
to use slaps and pinches to get her to move in the right direction.
As the material deteriorated into long, tangled strands, they
plucked them away, or wrapped them around her limbs, making spiral
designs against her thighs and upper arms. Still, the blindfold
remained on, and Robin remembered the night she had with Chris and
Rachel, which suddenly seemed like such a long time ago.

When two fingers pushed past the ribbons and
last remaining lines of netting that barely covered her pubic
mound, she unhesitatingly pushed back. They entered her smoothly,
and she heard Monica’s pleased laugh.


Yes, she likes it,” Monica said out
loud. “And after so many months in a houseful of men, who can blame
her? Do you like to eat pussy, slave? Do you like to lick cunts,
and nibble on a woman’s body?”


Yes, ma’am!”


What a surprise. And how fortunate
for you. I think we’re both in that kind of a mood tonight. Would
you like to play with her pretty little tits while I warm her up,
April?”


Why thank you, Monica, you’re too
kind.”

Robin felt Monica come up behind her, and
then felt the woman’s arms wrap around her, pulling her back so
that her ass was thrust out a little more. A light tap on the
inside of her thigh told her to spread her legs wider, and with a
groan, she did.

Monica wrapped her arms around
Robin’s body and lifted her breasts into her hands, as though
offering them to April. While she was that close, the dark-haired
woman nuzzled the back of Robin’s throat and then bit sharply.
Robin gasped, and felt a new surge of wetness between her
legs.
Oh
this is nice
, she thought, feeling the slight sting of pain when
Monica’s mouth moved away.

Her thoughts were interrupted when April
suddenly cupped both her breasts in her own hands and squeezed
harshly. Robin moaned deeply, and April let go of the captive
breasts to pinch the sore nipples and roll them slowly between her
fingertips. Robin could feel the bite of long nails.

Gradually over the space of several long
minutes, April began to increase the force of her compression,
making Robin twitch and gasp with random strong pinches. But Robin
hadn’t been in this house for a year without a lot of playing on
those poor portals to pleasure. As the pressure increased, and as
April began to change from rolling to twisting, Robin groaned but
also sighed, and couldn’t help it as she pushed her ass even
further back, to encounter Monica’s body again.


Sweet slut,” Monica murmured, biting
Robin’s neck again. “You’re so hot for us.” She pushed Robin
forward violently, and Robin’s body smashed into April. “Bad girl,”
Monica said, raising her voice over April’s laughter. “Should learn
to keep your balance! Now, we’re going to have to punish
you!”

I’m sorry, ma’am, please forgive me, ma’am,”
Robin wailed, struggling back onto her feet.


Too late! On with the punishment!”
And with a delighted laugh, as though she had just gotten a
long-awaited present, Monica began to smack Robin’s ass cheeks,
alternating sides. “Oh you’re going to get it, my little slave
girl. All night long, you’re going to get it.”


Hey, she ran into me, I should be
spanking her!”


Well, then get over here and let me
play with her tits for a while.”

They switched places, and April began a slow
and heavy spanking, rubbing her hands all over Robin’s cheeks and
cupping and spreading them. But in front of her body, Monica began
a soft and teasing exploration of Robin’s breasts and nipples,
being as deliberately gentle as April had been deliberately
cruel.

It was its own exquisite cruelty. Monica
trailed her fingers around Robin’s breasts in soft spirals, first
along the sensitive skin of her chest and underneath their swell,
then closer and closer to the aureoles and the sore nipples. Then
she would make lazy circles away from them.

April got bored with spanking very quickly
and began to use one of the short quirts she found in the chest.
For this, Robin couldn’t hold still. The two leather thongs on the
end of the braided handle whistled and wrapped around her curves as
April flicked them back and forth. But now, when Robin’s body
jerked away, she was bumping against Monica.

Monica reacted by bending down and taking
one nipple between her teeth. The sharp pinching was expected and
wonderful. But when April continued to lash away at Robin’s
buttocks and the backs of her legs, Robin couldn’t hold herself
still. She wriggled and writhed under the lash, only to find that
Monica wouldn’t move at all.

She was in effect making Robin put more
pressure on her own nipple. And meanwhile, Monica’s fingers never
ceased their wandering; tracing larger and larger circles, they
began to drift over Robin’s ribs and her sides.

As April’s punishing strokes from behind
pushed Robin’s body forward, Monica met each thrusting movement
with a light touch of fluttering fingers and the pinching sting of
a bite.

Within minutes, Robin was whimpering
steadily, dancing on the edges of pain and delight, her body
maneuvered one way or another without her participation or
awareness. All she knew was sensation, on one side and then
another, a burning touch here and a lewd caress there, the feathery
teasing below and the pulling from above. By the time one of
Monica’s fingers reached the top of her pubic mound, the only thing
that Robin could do was thrust her hips forward again, even though
this cost her the last of her stability and stretched her body out
to the fullest.


Jeez, she’s having all the fun,”
April complained as Monica laughed and danced away from Robin’s
hungry body.


We can’t have that,” Monica agreed.
“Time to get that mouth down?”


Way down!”

And Robin next found herself lowered to her
knees and presented with a wet and musky female delta; the two
women stood above her and embraced each other while she blindly
caressed the flesh before her. The warmth of their legs surrounding
her body was like a secure prison, but made of bars she longed to
throw herself around.

The form before her was soft
and round, with a light covering of closely shorn
hair. In seconds,
Robin knew it had to be April. She remembered her from earlier―a
curvaceous, substantial woman who looked as though she had been
poured into a long gown with a wide sash around its waist. She had
not arrived with Monica, but gravitated toward her during the
evening. It had been clear that they were old friends.

Robin concentrated on pleasing. Her tongue
darted out and flicked, explored and kissed. She kept it all gentle
until one hand grabbed her hair and pulled her sharply in. Above
her, she could hear more muffled giggles. She renewed her efforts,
this time being bolder and more energetic. She washed the flat of
her tongue over the exposed soft inner folds of April’s labia, and
sucked them into her mouth to lick the edges and work them back and
forth. And when April bent her knees slightly and tilted her pubis
a little bit more, Robin knew what to do, and nosed directly for
the clit.

April’s was large, and slightly extended. It
was a delight to caress, a swollen knob that made its owner quiver
when Robin sucked it into her mouth.

It was a new kind of torture when Robin felt
herself pulled away, and hands pushed at her body until she turned
around to find a new pussy suspended before her face.


Get the idea, slave?” she heard from
above her. “Keep going back and forth, whenever you’re tapped. And
keep your mind on what’s down there!”

How could she not?

From one woman to the other, Robin was
trapped in a circle of steamy musk. She began to cry; it was all
too much, being surrounded, being drowned in women’s flesh. Her
body ached and tingled from her lengthy bondage and the punishing
stripes of the quirt, but she kept moving, from one side to
another, back and forth, until she realized that she had forgotten
which woman was before her. It would always take a few seconds to
figure it out, and each new bout of mystery thrilled her even
more.


I need to do this on my back,” April
finally announced in a throaty moan. It was Monica who pulled Robin
from her position on the floor and jerked the comforting blindfold
off. Robin blinked as the lights in the room blinded her even more
than the heavy silk had, but she was given no time to adjust. April
was on the bed, her legs spread and knees pulled up, and Monica
simply pushed Robin into place, on her hands and knees, face firmly
down into a well of cunt flesh.

Behind her, Monica began to spank again,
this time in a quick rhythm. Robin moaned, and began to lick. April
didn’t have her waste one second where it wasn’t needed. As the
spanks grew in intensity and stinging pain, Robin’s face was
forcibly pushed and pulled over the spot that April chose, until
the reclining woman began to shudder and rock, thrusting her hips
up to meet Robin’s searching mouth. She was more than ready;
reaching down, she ground Robin’s lips against her flesh and cried
out, a long, inarticulate cry of pleasure.

When Robin was pulled away, she saw April’s
look of languid contentment for about three seconds before Monica
pulled her off the bed. From the floor, Robin watched while Monica
slowly and carefully disrobed, and when the woman sat down in the
low wing chair that faced the bed, Robin crawled between her legs
to minister to her as well.

It was exhausting, exhilarating. By the time
the two women were finished with her, the sounds of the continuing
party had all ended, and the rest of the house was shrouded in
silence. April and Monica tangled themselves up in the bed, and
before turning out the light, Monica had said, sleepily, “You can
stay, kiddo.”

Which was what Robin intended to do. But
first, she crept about the room, picking things up and hanging up
the two party dresses the women had worn. It was easy for her to
do, now that she was so familiar with the layout and where things
were stored. Then, she tip-toed out of the room to get another
bottle of mineral water; the two guests had finished the one that
was in the room already. Downstairs, she paused to look at the
detritus of the party. It had been quite a rocking affair. But she
had been invited to stay with a guest; until she was called for
work, she had to fulfill the guest’s wishes.

Not that it was any hardship.

Happy New Year,
she thought to
herself as she drifted off. She slept as comfortably and heavily as
the two women in the bed above her. Maybe even more so.

Chapter
Twenty

 

Another problem with living in paradise,
Robin reflected, was that you didn’t have the powerful seasonal
changes. The heck with snow, she could learn to live without that.
But the fact that the trees and shrubs were never bare made
springtime all the more difficult to discern.

But it was only her second spring out west.
Two autumns, two winters. Maybe as she spent more time here, she
would begin to see the differences that must be there.

She was earnestly trying not to remember
that, in the coming autumn, she would have to renegotiate her
contract. That is, if Eric and Jimmy wanted to keep her. If not,
she could always opt to get back on the block.

But we’re not thinking about
that
, she
sternly reminded herself.
We are thinking about a pre-Columbian fetish doll
and whether it’s worth the trouble of acquiring it versus the
negative publicity the auction is bound to receive.
It was all the rage
now for people to acquire such items and then give them back to the
native tribe they belonged to. Activists in costume were beginning
to attend the bigger galleries and houses, knowing that anyone who
actually bought one of the contested items would have to face a
press that would ask tough questions about property and value and
religion.

It was only worth it for people who were
able to somehow donate the items in question to some non-profit
organization, like a church or a museum. Then, you could put it
down as a juicy tax deduction and get the benefits of some positive
press. Get your picture taken with someone in native dress. Talk
about correcting centuries of abuse as though attempted genocide
could be bribed away by returning stolen property.

Oh boy, you are in a mood
today
, she
reflected.
Maybe it’s the wrong time to think about controversial
acquisitions and follow up on some old business.

She had several investment pieces out on the
market now, testing the waters before she brought out the more
important items. Art and collectibles went in strict cycles. And
now, she had expertise in more fields than she could have imagined
in her years back in New York.

It would be so easy to get a great new job
if she left slavery behind her. She could even set up her own
office and....

Damn. Doing it again.
Robin pulled one
hand through her hair and took a couple of deep breaths.
Got to
concentrate!


Rob?” Carl poked his head in the
door. He had taken to calling her that from time to time, a little
bit of a joke. “Downstairs.”

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