Chapter 12
The big man, Callan, had promised he'd return, thought Zacora miserably. But he had not done so. Her willowy body was cramped by her bonds. The chain holding her wrists between her splayed legs were designed not to allow her to stand straight. Or rather she could stand straight, but if she did, her pink and tender sex flesh would be cut cruelly by the cold metal of the chain.
A twinge of pain from one of her torn feet made her wince and give a soft moan. The way from the Meleagan's castle had been paved with stones and thorns, but she had been determined to escape.
The Meleagan family were descendants from the knight who captured the Queen. Their sadistic ways were well known, but Zacora found that Harold was the man she sought: a disciplining father figure who was sensually gifted.
Zacora sighed deeply and this deep intake of breath caused the wrist chains to grate against the delicacy of her female bud. She felt it draw out excitedly from its hood and she repeated the movement, for it made her think of the tall, handsome man who had gazed at her so kindly through the glass.
But he had not returned.
She felt the chain cut into her bottom cleft and graze her rear bud. The links of the chain were large, smoothly rounded, designed, it seemed to cause pleasure as well as pain. One loop probed into her rear opening, making it throb around the cold metal. She pressed harder, allowing the loop to enter her ready rear. The sensation was pleasant, comforting, and brought back the vision of two men who desired her so clearly. Both so different. She imagined the loop of chain to be their flesh swords, probing and caressing the narrow openings, front and back.
In her imagination she could feel their hard male bodies pressing against her helpless one and their cocks probing deep into her moist warmth. Why did she also crave the servant when Harold was the one she loved? Why did she crave rough handling when Harold knew exactly how to pleasure her? All her life she had given pleasure, perhaps, and now she was greedy to take it.
Quietly, she felt the wave of climax engulf her and she whispered her pleasure. The shudders which rippled through her lovely body made the chain catch the raw bud of her naked clitoris. Again, a pleasure wave rode through her, racking the delicious flesh with indescribable sensation. She revelled in it, but she dare not reveal how great her enjoyment.
"Now, my beauty," rasped a woman's voice behind her.
The silvery blonde hair swirled around Zacora's head as she tried to spin around to see her attacker, but her bandaged feet were held fast by the ankle manacles.
Leather gloved hands slid around her naked body and grasped the firm fullness of her breasts. As much as she was able Zacora struggled in her bonds, but said nothing. In truth the softness of the leather and the delicacy of the touch was pleasant to the highly receptive girl.
There was a hoarse laugh. "No need to struggle, Miss Prim - that is your name is it not?"
Zacora's nipples glowed and hardened, but she remained silent. Her breasts swelled against the caressing fingers, pouting proudly, and she prayed that the woman, whoever she was, would not notice the unbidden reaction. She offered up a further silent prayer that the leather-clad fingers would not investigate further, would not stray to the silver cloud of pubic curls and what lay beyond. If the sensitive digits probed the wet pinkness her excitement would be revealed.
As suddenly as her breasts were grasped they were released and Zacora heard the click of high heels on the floor of the chamber. Keeping her head bowed, she saw neat black leather boots planted firmly apart in front of her. Allowing her eyes to lift a little she saw that the boots were long like the legs which they clad. A finger lifted her trembling chin, forcing her to look upwards. There was a soft gasp of surprise.
"Oh!" heard Zacora. "They told me you were beautiful, but this!" There was a pause, then the woman spoke again. "My name is Paige. I prepare the Prince's young ladies for coupling with him."
With eyes made wide with the fear of the unknown, the girl looked up at the woman. She could feel hot tears stinging the soft sapphire blue eyes and, mutely, she pleaded for mercy.
"You're like an angel," came the whispering voice. "Surely you did not issue from any human womb?"
Zacora, lips parted, looked up at the woman. Her limbs were cramped terribly, for she had been chained in this position for several hours. Apart from the serving maid who had tended her feet and the man who lusted after her she had seen no-one until now. With a slow bend of her long spine she tried to make the heavy chains rattle to convey her extreme discomfort. The cold links brushed lightly against the heat of her sex flesh and made her shudder with unbidden pleasure.
A hand stroked the glossy platinum of her hair. "You poor thing!" said the woman. "You must be aching like mad. I'll have something done about it."
Zacora heard other footsteps, lighter, as though the wearer wore soft shoes. There was no harsh clack of heels, only a whispering, padding sound.
"Look at me," ordered the woman. "You are a lovely creature. Can you talk?"
The girl looked up, fixing her limpid sapphire orbs on the woman, and shook her head, for the time being she had decided that until her thoughts were put in order she would not speak.
"You poor thing!" The woman seemed kind and caring and Zacora gave her a slight smile. Two gentle hands released the shackles between her straddled thighs. It was a relief to be able to stretch and she did so, straightening her long slim back and drawing herself up tall. She felt her heavy breasts tauten on her delicate rib cage as she eased her cruelly tortured spine. The very slight swell of her belly flattened as she arched upwards. She felt the soft pad of her mound contract and the silver fronds of her bush flutter with the movement.
"You may roll the manacles in the flesh of her pouch," said Paige to the serving maid who was releasing Zacora. "I wish to check on the state of her arousal."
Tears filled the blue eyes, for the order took her back to the school room in Lokara, in the time only days ago, although it seemed like months or years. The Master who taught the girls pleasure would check on their arousal. But life then was so innocent and her innocence, she felt, had gone forever.
The serving maid was small and plump, with a round cheerful face. Zacora looked down at her, trying to convey her unhappiness and pleading that the ravishment should not be too intimate.
"Bend your legs, dear," said Paige softly, "and let Bella squat between them."
Obediently, Zacora allowed her knees to relax, giving the serving maid more space to intrude in the sleek arch of the lovely limbs.
Keeping her sapphire blue eyes to the front, the girl did not look at either Paige or Bella. She knew that the silver fronded portals were spread, displaying the fresh moist folds and the jutting bud which nestled between them.
"Could you give your pelvis more frontal exposure, dear?" requested Paige sweetly. "I want to see all there is to see of that pretty little pouch before Bella does her tests."
Fresh tears made the wide eyes more lustrous. Patches of red appeared on the high cheek bones as Zacora did as she was ordered.
"Tears?" questioned Paige. "Why so? Bella will not hurt you."
"No, mistress," smiled Bella, looking up at the parted sex leaves with their shimmering coat of dew. "She is too pretty to be disfigured."
"You see!" Paige was triumphant. She was resplendent in a tightly-laced and boned black satin corset. The garment left her breasts and sex bush naked, jutting out and begging for attention. The breasts were firm and large, centred with dark brown buds decorated with small gold rings which pierced the erect flesh. The bush was thick and lush, the curls braided with precious stones which sparkled and danced as she moved. The long boots reached her sex and the cuffs were designed to spread the folds open. Paige's face was handsome, the dusky skin stretched over beautifully carved bone structure. The fine features spoke of mixed race, but high birth. A small crown of gold held back the lustrous mane of crinkly curls.
"Rub the chains within the folds, Bella," ordered Paige. "And let me sniff the perfume of her musk."
Zacora's head reeled at the command. She didn't care for the intimate touch of women. Men, with their penetrating organs, their rougher fingers, their fumbling investigations and their shouts of triumph as they spumed their semen, men were much more satisfying. She closed her moist eyes, trying to shut out the women and their actions.
"You must watch," hissed Paige. "It is imperative, just as it is imperative for me to watch your reactions."
Reluctantly, Zacora opened the tear-dewed lashes and looked down at the serving maid who cupped the wrist manacles in her small hands and edged the bundle of metal towards the unwillingly displayed sex. Tense with apprehension Zacora flinched away.
Paige laughed. "So it's true what they say about you," she scoffed. "You really are Miss Prim!"
Biting her full bottom lip Zacora tried to be obedient, offering the frontally presented softness of her sex to the invading metal of the manacles. The links of chain were cold against the moist heat of her and the folds of her pouch fluttered against the intrusion, grappling with them softly.
"Aaah," breathed Paige excitedly, stepping forward to watch more closely. "Not so prim, after all. See how the folds caress the chain, Bella?"
"Indeed, Mistress."
Paige stroked her nipple rings, allowing her leather-clad fingers to trace the outline of the finely beaten gold. "Perhaps, at last, we have found the female who will beget the Prince an heir." Her handsome features smiled kindly at Zacora. "Think how wonderful would be your position in the kingdom if he sired a son on you."
Once more, thought Zacora, I am to be a slave. My body is not my own. Oh, how I long to escape these lands ruled by despots and cruel knights. Only one man had grasped her heart and that was Harold; one man and the handsome slave who, perhaps, she dreamed, could be Harold's squire.
"Give me the chains, Bella," said Paige coldly. "I shall test the aroma and you..." She paused, her almond-shaped eyes, dark as the deepest pits of hell, slitted with anger. "And you must whip her."
Bella, full cotton petticoats rustling as she rose to her feet, grinned eagerly.
"But on no account must you mark her," warned Paige. "The Prince will be displeased if he receives damaged goods."
"Of course, mistress," agreed Bella. "I shall choose only the softest of whips. It will merely caress her skin, remind her that she belongs to the Prince."
"I could tell by the expression on those perfect features," said Paige huskily, stepping close to Zacora, "that you were rebelling." The manacles were held to the long dusky nose and the perfume was sniffed hungrily. A smile wreathed the dark features, analytical and knowing. "You seem to be easily stimulated," she surmised.
Zacora held her breath with relief. At least Paige had not realised that some of her stimulation came from her own thoughts of Harold, not from Bella's caresses.
"How would you care to see her whipped, mistress?" The plump little maid was beaming with eagerness, her round face flushed with barely suppressed excitement.
The captive girl watched, trembling, as Bella tucked her full petticoats into a tightly cinched belt. Horror made the sapphire eyes widen to their fullest extent as she saw how the maid's sex was treated. A solid metal block, obviously tailored to fit by a skilled iron smith, covered the folds from front to rear. It was held in place by a leather harness around the waist and top of chubby thighs.
"She is quite used to it," said Paige matter-of-factly, following Zacora's horrified gaze. "It causes her no discomfort - now." She sniffed at the delicate musk still exuding from the chains. "I expect at first it was a little uncomfortable."
Bella gave a barely perceptible nod. "You might find out what it's like, if you don't please the Prince."
The sapphire eyes darted from one to the other of the two women, querying what a female must do to prevent such treatment. Zacora felt herself tighten with fear; the moist passage closing involuntarily and the bud hiding amidst the pink folds.
Finishing with the chains, Paige discarded them and brushed her naked breasts against Zacora's. The captive felt the strangeness of the gold nipple jewellery whispering against her unadorned breasts. "Press up your pouch as high as you can," said Paige in a soft command. "Let me feel your buttock cleft pressing to the front."
Bella was hopping impatiently from foot to foot behind them. "The whipping, mistress," she reminded Paige, "the whipping!"
"You impetuous little minx!" chided Paige. "Be still until I'm ready." She gyrated her jewelled bush against Zacora's carefully posed sex pouch, making the soft silver fronds excite the sensitive pink flesh until the captive girl began to shudder with the stimulation. "Bella loves to punish," explained Paige. "She was one of the Prince's potential consorts, but like all the others, she failed to produce an heir. The block is her punishment."
If Paige had not been ready to hold her, Zacora would have collapsed with shock. As it was she felt the blood drain from her already pale features; felt her mouth become dry and her tongue cling to the roof of her mouth.
"But never fear," soothed Paige, "we shall prepare you so that you will not fail."
Had she been able to speak Zacora would have asked why the punishment was so severe. Surely, she thought, the metal grazed the soft inner thighs of the victims when they walked. And how could they perform natural functions against such a rigid occlusion? Were they forbidden any sexual relief by their own hand or by the flesh of a lover?
"It isn't very nice, Bella, is it?" asked Paige, pressing her jewelled sex pad into Zacora's offered pouch.
Bella's chubby cheeks were sucked inwards and her nostrils flared as she watched her mistress pleasure the captive. "No," she hissed in frustration. "I'm only allowed to remove the block twice a day, and then I am watched to make sure that I do not pleasure myself."
Paige's scarlet lips kissed the captive's nipples, roving her tongue lovingly around each tight pink bud as she cupped the under swell with her gloved hands. The sensations were like nothing Zacora had felt before. They were mystical; transporting her to a realm where nothing had consequence apart from sexual pleasure. In this realm there were colours beyond the hues of the rainbow; there were enchanting scents. She tasted the food of the gods and she heard dulcet sounds that cossetted the ears. Her orgasm was not centred in her sex bud, but encompassed her whole body. Every centimetre of skin, every pore and every hair received a share of precious joy.
As she shuddered down from the elysian field Zacora felt Paige delving deep between her precious folds. The dark features of the other woman were tense with excitement; the nostrils flared on the slim nose, a smile curving the scarlet lips, the dark eyes glittering beneath dark and lowered lashes. The gloved hand first cupped the sex pouch, feeling its heat and fullness.
The touch, light and gentle though it was, made Zacora flush with shame. She was being tested like an animal on heat. The folds were parted with a finger and thumb, exposing an inflamed bud. Paige's fingers pinched this, stroking the moist little shaft from root to tip. In spite of the humiliation Zacora felt swirls of renewed excitement coursing around the inner flesh of her belly, making the nerves stretch to breaking point, but never quite reaching a peak. She felt her head fall back, making the platinum tresses sway in soft curls against her naked back.
"I produce beautiful feelings for you, my darling, do I not?" breathed Paige, planting soft kisses on Zacora's exposed throat.
Zacora tried not to respond, but then two expert fingers were plunged into the cushiony wetness of her vagina. They were driven in to the hilt, leaving a thumb to play with the thrusting bud which jutted so eagerly from the gleaming bed of tender flesh.
The fingers drove in rhythmically causing the girl to arch backwards, the better to receive the forced attentions. "Oh, yes, my darling," hissed Paige, "don't hold back. Let the feelings flow over you like water from a warm spring."
Breasts full and tender, pouting upwards from her arched body, Zacora sighed her pleasure through lips circled to a perfect O. So great was her climax that her humiliation faded into the background of her mind.
Paige laughed as she slowly slid her fingers from the wildly fluttering sex folds. "Definitely, not so prim," she remarked, lifting the fingers to examine the moisture which gathered there. It lay on the black glove like pearls of dew gathered on the petals of a flower in the early morning. "A beautiful texture, my darling." Paige brought the fingers to her nose, sniffing the heady musk. "The aroma of a wood nymph," she said dreamily. The dark eyes became glazed for long moments as she allowed the scent to permeate her sensitive sinuses. "Are you sure you are human?" Paige's eyes became cautious and searching.
A weakness made the slender body of the captive slump in her ankle manacles, tumbling Zacora to the floor. The silver blonde hair flowed like a cloak around the fallen form, covering the creamy shoulders and allowing the women the merest glimpse of the full breasts.
"The orgasm was strong," said Paige kindly, "we must give her time to take her restitution." She placed the dewy fingers between her scarlet lips, tasting the coating left by the deep foraging into Zacora's depths. The expression on her face was thoughtful.
Bella cracked the soft strands of the lash she had chosen against her thigh. "She's stalling, mistress," she said pettishly.
"Perhaps you are right, Bella," replied Paige. She prodded Zacora with the toe of her boot. "Up you get, girl. No more of the play-acting."
Weakly, on trembling legs, Zacora got to her feet, cursing in her mind the shackles that held her fast to the stone floor. She kept her head bowed, not looking at either of the women, but hiding behind the billowing curtain of platinum hair.
Paige shrugged. "I think it is time for the punishment," she decided. "I know that there is something very special about you," she said softly, reaching into the curtain of hair to lift Zacora's chin, "and one day I shall discover it."
Bella, eager to begin the chastisement, spread Zacora's legs apart. The chains holding the captive's feet to the floor were loose enough for considerable width to be placed between the girl's shapely limbs.
"Yes, nice and wide, Bella," agreed Paige. "Open her up." She stroked the captive's full buttocks, feeling the satiny smoothness of the skin and the tautness of the athletic muscles.
Legs fully stretched, Zacora lifted her head, giving Paige a sapphire blue challenge with her proud eyes. She smiled a little as she saw the corsetted figure give a barely perceptible shudder.
"Hands flat on the ground," ordered Paige, trying to ignore Zacora's challenge. "We shouldn't wish you to fall and hurt yourself."
Once again Zacora was forced to submit to humiliating exposure of her perfect body. She knew that her rear mouth was fully revealed to the women. No doubt it was moist and pouting, but she hoped that it would not pulse and give them further satisfaction. She felt Paige's hands part her buttocks, examining that very orifice, circling it with the tip of her finger to test the flexibility of the puckered skin.
"No doubt the Prince will wish to plunder that further," the woman said, hissing her words cruelly. "He finds it stimulating to switch from one to the other of a woman's offerings. This one -" Paige probed the rear mouth with a finger still dewy with Zacora's pleasure juices "- so tight and gripping, and this one so flexible and slippery as silk," The fingers stroked the labia fluttering nervously across the girl's female entrance.
"A truly delicious sight," breathed Paige, standing back and allowing her eyes to stray up the long magnificent pillar of Zacora's splayed legs to the displayed silver fronded plump labia.
Paige made a careful inspection of the creamy bottom cheeks, stroking the stripes left by the soft lash. "Nicely swollen," she said, admiration in her voice, "but not welted." She took a moment to peer into the tangled mass of silver curls. "Hm," she murmured thoughtfully, "no tears. No expression either way. Perhaps a tinge harder next time, Bella."
The maid was only to happy to oblige. "Whatever you command, mistress. May I be so bold as to suggest a light slap in that open rear crevice to enhance the rosiness of the bud?"
Giving the maid a smile, Paige nodded, watching the operation with growing interest.
The victim gave another sigh; a deep intake of breath to relax her apprehensive nerve endings. The soft thongs of the whip were precisely placed, flicking the spread valley in which nuzzled the sensitive bud. Paige was delighted to see the bud purse at the soft caress of a lash. It began to pulse, seeming to reach out and grip the tip of the thong.
Zacora felt her pale face blush beneath the soft fall of the silken tresses and she gave up a silent plea that Paige would not notice the reaction, but her plea was in vain.
"You little darling!" Paige exclaimed. "The front slit is pearling nicely. And the clitoris is so delicately swollen, so full and engorged."
To her shame Zacora felt the maid's tiny hands smoothing the cream outwards into the silver forest of the labial growth. For all her meditation, her pleasure was revealed for the women. She felt herself rising up the inexorable slopes leading her to another crashing climax. Her mind pleaded for mercy but her buttocks and sex were posed for yet more punishment.
The shapely bottom presented itself, parted and ready for the next flourish of the caressing thongs. The moist labia, swollen and open, lifted obediently, the better to receive the benefit of the chastisement. Zacora, to her deep humiliation, felt her hot sap gathering on the already soaked silver bush. A trickle of the luscious juice made its way down a stately thigh. She could feel the urgent throb of her clitoris, projecting from her fluttering folds. It was jutting out of the tiny hood, begging for fulfilment.
"Oh, how pretty!" exulted Paige.
"Yes, mistress," agreed the maid, but Zacora knew that the serving wench was envious; wanted so badly to free her own sex from its dreadful metal prison.
"Won't the Prince just adore her?"
Zacora saw, through the lovely arch of her splayed thighs, that Paige's handsome swarthy face was inches from her fully revealed nether slit. The woman's hands, although not touching her flesh, were tracing each delicate curve. "Oh, you're so beautiful," Paige whispered. "And in a moment, when Bella has finished, I shall kiss you - there." The tip of the gloved finger glanced across the naked tip of the glowing clitoris.
Zacora shuddered as she found herself bearing back towards Paige's softly parted scarlet lips. "Now, now!" she heard Paige chide, an amused chuckle whispering from the upturned mouth. "Patience, my little one. All good things come to those who wait. Carry on, Bella."
The supple thongs bore down again upon the offered flesh. They were placed, this time, so that they spread like a fan across all the posed parts. The blow was harder and Zacora stumbled forward a pace.
"That was hardly necessary, Bella," said Paige crossly. "You know perfectly well that she must not be damaged. Let me look at her skin."
Bella was pushed out of the way and Paige smoothed the welted buttocks, tracing each lash mark with gentle fingers. "If these bruise I shall have to deliver you for punishment to Freya and you know how she loves to give you maids the full treatment."
Zacora heard a harsh intake of fear from Bella.
"Now," continued Paige, ignoring Bella's show of apprehension, "continue, but I want the next strokes to be quicker."
Tears filled the sapphire blue eyes. Would her beatings never end? Zacora offered up a silent plea that the next stroke would touch her female bud which hovered so close to the brink of ecstasy. Humiliated by her position though she might be, she knew she must suffer the agony of the sexual appetite with which she had been cursed. But the thongs expertly skirted the pouting bud, leaving it jerking from the folds, untouched but begging.
"Enough," commanded Paige at last.
Zacora's buttocks were on fire. The normally pale flesh was swollen and each cheek was diverged from its natural position. She could feel her rear mouth pulsing, opening and closing as though urging intrusion. Juices were copious, drooling warmly down the inner skin of each lovely thigh. If only she was allowed to touch the heated bud probing from the silver folds her agony would be over, her climax would be instantaneous, but she knew that this was forbidden.
"Bring the stool," ordered Megan. The tremor in the woman's voice was ill-disguised. It told of sexual ardour and urgent need.
The glorious body which was the subject of this treatment trembled from head to foot. Zacora's need was almost unbearable. Always before she could meditate to close off pleasure and pain, but in this place every sensation seemed to be stronger.
The stool was placed in front of her. It was wide and quite high. The seat, if such it was, was fashioned from thick, hard leather.
"Bend over it," said Paige softly. Her breathing was rapid, Zacora noticed, harsh and laboured. Obediently, she did so.
The device was far more comfortable than merely bending over and clutching one's ankles. Her full breasts were free, peeping over the hard leather. It seemed only natural, as she rested on the leather, to part her legs to their fullest extent. The stool seemed to urge her to that position.
"Good girl!" praised Paige. "I wish all my pupils were so willing. Some of them are downright rebellious and some of them haven't a clue. But you, you are gorgeous, and I am about to reward you."
Breath, warm and needful, whispered over Zacora's offered flesh. Paige was blowing into the moist silver fronds, parting them gently with soft puffs. The sensation was delicately sensual and the girl performed appropriately, lifting the wet folds to increase their availability.
Knowing that her bud was Paige's goal, she concentrated upon that swollen knot. She had reached a point at which sexual satisfaction was the centre of her being. Nothing else mattered: not her humiliation, not her degradation, not being used like an object for the pleasure of others. She focused all her thoughts on her bud. Her sapphire blue eyes closed as she pictured Paige's object of desire in its inflamed bed of moist skin. She could see it, in her mind. She could see it growing, swelling, arching towards the questing scarlet lips through which darted an eager wet tongue.
"Yes, my darling," Paige sighed, "offer it to me nicely. Oh, oh, how it grows for me. How hot. You must do this for the Prince, my lovely."
At last Zacora felt Paige's lips around her clitoris. They sucked on it gently, caressing the little shaft. She felt an expert tongue press on the exposed tip and she felt that she would explode at the intent, but then the pressure was released and the gentle sucking of the shaft resumed. This alternate teasing and pleasuring continued until Zacora thought she would scream, but she refused to succumb. The only sign of her need was further opening of her legs and the faintest wiggle of her flushed bottom.
"Yes, I know," murmured Paige wetly, "you need release and I shall give it to you."
A leather-clad finger probed into the creamy depths of Zacora's folds. It stayed there, still and unmoving, until once more the girl could bear the delicious torture no longer. At last the soaking digit was withdrawn.
"Excellent!" praised Paige. "You have absolutely soaked it."
Zacora's body was flushed and heavy with sexual longing and she posed her nether parts, hoping that her torture would end. She felt her breasts swelling over the edge of the stool, the nipples burning and hard as stones, painful in their erection.
"Hold the buttock cheeks taut," ordered Paige of Bella. "Keep them fully open."
Bella was less than gentle in carrying out her mistress's bidding and Zacora felt true pain as the maid tugged at each fiery cheek. Warm wetness stroked around the victim's rear mouth. The entrance was thoroughly wetted before Paige was satisfied. The sap soaked finger was gently inserted and Zacora whispered a tiny sigh. At the same time Paige replaced her lips on the twitching bud amid the silver folds.
Almost immediately Zacora soared to new peaks, held there by Paige's undoubted expertise. The soaked finger drove in and out of the tight and clutching orifice. She felt degraded by this humiliating intrusion and her face burned with embarrassment, but this was as nought under the shadow of the ecstasy of her orgasm. She felt her liquid seeping from the silky folds, to gather on Paige's sucking lips. She felt her bud press deeper into the woman's mouth. She could feel its heat and the beautiful radiating sensation issuing to every part of her body.
Collapsing over the stool, Zacora was spent; taken to pleasure and beyond.
"I want you to pleasure me now," she heard with horror. From her commanded position on the stool she lifted her shimmering head to timorously glimpse round at her tormentors.
Paige, her scarlet lips shining with juices, had opened her black bush to reveal the dark tinted moistness beneath. A brown clitoris, with a red and glowing tip, jutted out, obviously very ready for stimulation. Zacora lowered her lovely head, shaking it vigorously in denial.
"You dare to disobey?" Paige's voice held threats of punishment too terrible to dream. The woman was on her feet, statuesque in the tightly boned corset, and her booted feet held wide apart ready for Zacora. The full breasts were swollen, the nipples glowing with heat. The gold rings twitched in the rigid flesh as Paige approached Zacora for the implied reward.
"Pull her to her feet, Bella," she commanded. "Place her mouth carefully. If she refuses to kiss my bud, use the whip."
"Of course, mistress," replied Bella, only too glad to oblige.
Satiated, Zacora was put to her task, but it wasn't through any sense of modesty or distaste that she had first refused to caress the dark beauty of Paige's sex.
The girl, kneeling, her lips parted and her sapphire eyes pleading, looked up at the older women. Her beautiful features begged that she should not be forced to close the satiny mouth around Paige's bud. She could smell the woman's heady musk; could see the swollen darkness of her folds; could see the urgent jerking redness of the clitoris.
It was beautiful, but Zacora must resist. She was determined to save the sexual energy which she might have to give for the man of her dreams. A man who could give her everything she wanted from life.
Zacora's pleading eyes travelled up the length of the leather clad legs. Silently, she begged that Paige should not compel her to caress the dark folds or suck the proud erection of her sex bud. How could she convey to her how much it meant to her to retain her sexual energy for the right man?
"What are you waiting for?" snapped Paige impatiently.
Bella stepped forward, eager to take up where she had left off.
The shimmering mane of silver hair shook vigorously from side to side as Zacora tried to communicate how important it was that she should not pleasure Paige.
"Oh, really!" hissed the induction mistress, seeing that her reluctance was serious. "You can take this prim and proper business too far, you know." Paige beckoned to Bella to hold the silver head and press it to her dark and parted nest.
No sooner was a hand placed in the thick depths of the gleaming hair than Zacora directed her beautiful eyes to Bella. She shrugged towards her, pointing at the several stranded whip, almost begging for it to be used on her crouching body. Her plaintive eyes then switched to Paige's black corsetted figure, so stately and strong.
"I do believe she wishes me to discipline her," smiled Paige. "What a strange girl she is!" The dark threatening beauty of the preparation mistress became more menacing. "You understand, my dear, that my thrashing will be beyond anything you have experienced?"
Zacora closed her lovely eyes, breathing deeply, smelling Paige's heavy musk as she crouched at the booted feet and nodded her acquiescence.
She heard the induction mistress groan pleasurably as she took the soft stranded whip from her maid. Zacora watched as Paige parted the darkness of her sex with her free hand, displaying the scarlet tipped clitoris.
The girl could see the slickness of the dark folds and the combined picture of Paige's sex and the anticipation of the lash brought startling stimulation to Zacora's whole body.
"Her needs are opening me up," breathed Paige huskily. "She does it much more daintily than you, or anyone else, for that matter."
"Yes, mistress," Bella rasped. She hated the way this witch was currying favour with her owner.
The captive lightly glanced at Paige's entrance, checking for the musky lubrication and the flexibility of the cushiony flesh.
Zacora's own flesh felt much the same. A lash, she thought, would be sufficient to bring her once more to orgasm.
"Don't they look lovely? Hers and mine?" whispered Paige. "One so dark and the other so pink and blonde?"
The lash snapped across the stone floor, touching nothing. What would it be like to caress a woman, thought Zacora? A picture formed in her mind, a picture of Paige bearing down on Zacora's own tantalising fingers. In the deeper recesses of her mind, the captive could see her own long tongue, pink and fleshy-looking, as it snaked through her wide, full lips. In Zacora's mind Paige watched it hungrily. What was more, the girl, in imagination, felt the darkly curled sex purse press forward and, suddenly, the tongue entered the spread heaven, probing into the moist leaves and delving into the cushiony passage.
The two women merged in mind and body.
"Is she really touching me?" breathed Paige, disbelief in her voice. "It feels like a sex sword. It's thick and long. Oh, it's so lovely and so strange. Wonderful." The words came out hesitantly, as though the woman was in the throes of a climax.
The captive girl allowed her tongue and her mind to relax and slip softly out of the deep, pulsing pit. She transferred her attentions to the jerking hard reality of Paige's bud.
Soon a groan, long and loud, escaped from her. "I've never felt anything so wonderful," Paige told Bella. "What is she doing which causes such thrills?" Again the voice was hesitant, breathless.
"Nothing that I can see, mistress," said Bella, frowning. "But your clitoris hood is bared at the tip and it waves from side to side as though lightly brushed with a tongue across the scarlet flesh - just as I would do, should I be allowed."
Another groan, louder this time, filled the induction chamber. "You'll have to stop," pleaded Paige. "It's too wonderful - too beautiful - too much." She was swaying weakly, fingering the inflamed and erect nipples of her exposed breasts. Her eyes were lifted, rolling in their sockets as she bore down on the imagined magic of Zacora's tongue
Paige's sex bud was greatly enlarged and the girl began to physically caress it with lips as soft as swansdown, while her tongue lapped the engorged tip.
Heat diffused from the lapping tongue, seeping into the cossetted flesh. The wonder of the sensations she was causing were reflected back to Zacora and she smiled to herself. She knew that Paige could not take much more. It would be very soon.
Sex sap, warm and creamy, dripped steadily into Zacora's throat and she could hear Paige's breathing, quick and harsh. She played her long tongue around the base of the clitoris stem, feeling it throb and jerk. Next she pressed further to ease back the tiny hood and finally, she poised for a final touch of the tip.
Paige gave a great roar of pleasure and she fell to the floor, her black-booted legs folded under her body so that her ebony nest was thrust high. "Beautiful," she repeated over and over again. "Beautiful."
Concerned, Bella knelt by her mistress, her hands fluttering at her chastity bar as if to infiltrate the barrier. "Mistress Paige," she said softly, "are you well?"
Zacora, her face gleaming with silvery juices from the induction mistress's sex purse, knelt with her head bowed. Her body glowed with the sweat of exertion. Her mind, too, was weary. She felt a hand grip a handful of silver tresses to lift her head back. That done she felt a sharp slap across her bare breasts; first one tender mound and then the other.
"What have you done to my mistress?" hissed Bella angrily into Zacora's pale face.
The captive shrugged, raising her hands in pretend innocence. She pointed to the feet manacles, indicating that she wanted release.
"If I release you, will you tell me?"
Zacora nodded eagerly.
Paige held her pouting sex, cupping it lovingly as she murmured her litany of "Beautiful." She was a sensual sight. Her naked breasts were swollen and her voluptuous figure was tightly encased in the black corset. Any man entering the induction room would wish to spear her with his sex sword, but Zacora's mind games caused a madness which would repel potential marauders.
The bandaged feet free at last, Zacora sped for the heavy oak door. Bella was close behind her, grabbing the willowy girl by her most tender parts, but Zacora, lithe and supple, slipped out of the clumsy grasp as if she had been lubricated with butter.
"You won't get away with this!" she heard as she leapt like a gazelle down the long passage. Even with tender, torn feet Zacora had the easy stride of an athlete.