Naked Ambition (18 page)

“You like their pain?”

“I like the way they enjoy the pain and the way some can’t get enough of being humiliated.”

“You’ve been humiliated today. Did you like it?”

Angel was stopped in her tracks. She had been reduced to a stumbling wreck behind this man, she had pissed in front of him, he had cleaned her up. And every touch of his hand had been heavenly relief from the isolation of the hood.

“No!” she shook her head furiously.

He laughed in that irritating, quiet way of his and she realised she was listening to him more closely than she had ever listened to anyone before. She was hearing his breathing, she had noticed the way his breath caught just a little before he spoke. The timbre of his voice was deeper and more relaxed than it had been.

“How do you know you’re a domme, Angel?”

That at least was easy.

It had been at school. Her parents were abroad – as always – and hadn’t been able to get back to pick her up form boarding school at the end of the summer term in her final year before university.

The school hadn’t minded her staying on for a few days and she had enjoyed herself, swimming, running, working out in the gym and having the television all to herself in the evenings.

One day she had been showering off after coming back from a run when Miss Lukins had walked in, quite naked and taken the shower opposite her.

“You don’t mind do you Angela?” she had asked. “Only they’ve turned our showers off for the holidays and I’ve just had a run too.”

Miss Lukins was one of the more popular teachers, a fresh-faced graduate in political history whose enthusiasm for her subject would turn out to have helped Angel to an A grade.

They had dressed and chatted and gradually Angel’s shyness had evaporated. Of course she was perfectly used to being naked with her fellow students, although she had never indulged in some of the after-lights-out under the blankets explorations that she knew did go on from time to time. Miss Lukins was that bit fuller figured, her hips were broader than most of the girls, certainly broader than Angel’s at that time and Angel was fascinated by her breasts. They were not the flabby, doughy things that some of the fat girls had, nor were they the oversized melons that some girls sported for a brief few years in adolescence. They were enticingly large with dark red areola but stood proud and firm on her chest. Angel’s were still developing and she was frankly envious. With all the rampant hormonal drives of her age, she made no attempt to resist Miss Lukins’ line in chat up, which ended with a dinner invitation at her rooms that night.

“But I’ve not got much to wear apart from school uniform,” she had protested naively.

Miss Lukins had smiled and told her to just come as she pleased.

The rest of the afternoon had passed in a frenzy of trying on and throwing off until finally she had settled on a pink T shirt that was just a little small but which therefore made her breasts look a bit more grown up, worn over a short, dark skirt. She went bare legged as it had been a reasonable summer and she was quite tanned. The best she could do in shoes was a pair of heeled sandals that another of the prefects had left behind.

Miss Lukins answered the door dressed in a yellow shirt and a pale green skirt that was tailored and stopped a good four inches above the knee. The afternoon in the changing room hadn’t prepared her for how shapely and smooth Miss Lukins legs were. With her heart thundering she allowed herself to be led in, her only thought was one of relief that Miss Lukins had never shown herself off like this in class; there wouldn’t have been a dry seat in the room.

Even looking back on it, Angel could never really say if she expected to go to bed with Miss Lukins or not. Or whether she had expected to be seduced or whether she wanted to lose her virginity to another woman. She only knew that Miss Lukins was smart and sexy and talked to her like an adult and she wanted to find out more about…..about everything. Men and women. Why all the local boys just wanted to get their hands up her skirt? When if they behaved more like men, she would have begged them to put their hands up there and feel her. And now here she was with an adult who seemed to like her and who seemed so relaxed about everything.

They ate they talked and they drank. Miss Lukins kept making arch comments about not wanting to get her drunk. And Angel didn’t have that much, but it was enough.

At last, Miss Lukins had got up from the table. Put some music on low and beckoned Angel to come and join her on the sofa. By this time there was no pretence. Angel was eighteen after all and somehow two of Miss Lukins buttons had come undone and the valley of her cleavage was showing.

She sat back as Angel – even though she was desperately looking forward to whatever was going to happen – sat awkwardly beside her, balancing on the front of the sofa, not quite able to relax back.

Miss Lukins laughed. “Come here, Angela,” she said and held out an arm. Hesitantly, knowing this was supposed to be happening with a man but absolutely dying to know what it would be like with a woman, Angel let herself be cradled by the arm as she sat back, half turned towards her teacher.

“You couldn’t keep your eyes off them this afternoon,” Miss Lukins said, squinting down at her chest. “Want another look?”

“Oh yes, please Miss – I mean Anne.”

With trembling fingers, Angel had undone her shirt and helped her shrug it back off her shoulders and with some more giggling struggles get rid of it entirely. Then there had been a time of slow, wondering stroking, Angel loving the pleasure she was giving and savouring the size and firmness of mature breasts. There was no hurry now. The spell was cast. They would go the whole way…..when it pleased them. Anne’s bra was taken off and Angel kissed her nipples, laughing as they hardened to a size far in excess of her little nubs. Anne got up to put another CD on, letting her breasts sway freely. Angel stood up and took off her T shirt and bra so that when Anne came back they could rub their breasts together and she so wanted Anne’s hands on them.

When Anne’s hand began to slide up her thigh and under her skirt, it was so assured and so unlike the frantic explorations of the local boys that Angel had simply parted her legs and lain back while her lover had expertly aroused her without even taking her knickers off. Then she had leaned forwards and kissed her so deeply that Angel thought the top of her head would come off.

“Let’s go to bed and get those off there,” she had said at last.

Angel had never been able to forget the thrill of putting her fingers into Anne. But then she had never forgotten the thrill of feeling Anne probing inside her, finding her hymen and then producing a sizable vibrator from the bedside table.

“Want to get rid of it?”

At that moment, Angel would have sold her soul if Anne had asked her to. The loss of her virginity, if it meant that Anne was free to penetrate her as deeply as she wanted to, was a paltry thing.

Angel stuttered, gasped, trembled and twitched her way to the stars so many times that night it was getting light before sleep overtook them. She even fell asleep with her face between Anne’s legs.

In the morning they shared a bath and compared how much each of them stung in the aftermath and soaped every nook and cranny of each other’s body. They ate breakfast naked and licked yoghurt off each other’s nipples. Then they sucked it out of each other’s cunt. After that they had another bath.

In the days that followed Anne drove them away from town in the evenings so they could go to dinner without being spotted. They stopped the car on the way home and played at boy friends trying to get off with them in the back seat. Angel would try and get her hand up Anne’s skirt by distracting her with outrageous claims to have seen UFOs and little green men. Furious wrestling matches ensued that rocked the car in the lay by. Then Angel would pretend to sulk and Anne would placate her by putting Angel’s hand inside her blouse or spreading her legs and letting her feel about until they needed to get home and get the toys out.

It was still a time that Angel looked back on as being the happiest of her life. But then came the morning that changed everything.

Anne was quiet. Angel’s parents were coming to collect her in two days’ time. Angel was determined to cram every second full of experimentation and excitement but Anne sat her down in the small kitchen of her flat and told her that a lot of people would think she had behaved terribly badly.

Angel had protested. But Anne had been insistent, Angel was young, she shouldn’t have been pushed into it so quickly. She, Anne, was to blame.

Angel had gone on protesting until Anne had taken her face in her hands and kissed her until she melted.

“Will you help me feel better?” she asked. Angel nodded.

“Then punish me and I’ll feel I’ve paid for my bad behaviour.”

Angel had no idea what she meant but was willing to do anything to bring back the happy, lovestruck Anne.

Taking her hand, Anne led her into the bedroom and knelt down, feeling about under the bed.

“Teachers always used to have these you know! But they used to use them on naughty girls…….so you’ll have to use it on this naughty girl.”

She stood up brandishing a cane and handed it to an astonished Angel.

Anne went to the chair that stood in front of her dressing table and turned it so the back was facing her, then she hitched up her skirt and wrenched down her knickers before bending over the back and holding onto the sides of the seat.

“I think six for a first offence, Angel. But I daresay I’ll need more tomorrow, I think I’m going to be very naughty tonight.” She gave Angel a look of lascivious invitation. “I think I might be tempted to rim you tonight and that would be very naughty indeed!”

Angel was staring at her lover’s bottom. She adored the smooth curves and the silky skin but having it offered to her to hit seemed terrible and wonderful all at the same time. They had scratched at each other as they had rolled in their passion and the pain had heightened the passion. This must be an extension of the same thing.

“Don’t be afraid, Angel. It makes a loud noise and hurts terribly. But I want it to. I like the hurt, Angel. Do it for me!”

And Angel had beaten her lover. Hard. It had come naturally.

When the swishing and smacking, the most exciting things Angel had ever heard had fallen silent and a sniffling Anne had slowly stood up, her mentor had fallen to her knees in front of her and kissed her hands again and again in gratitude.

Angel had loved the way the shockwaves had run through the soft flesh of the buttocks each time they were struck, she had loved how Anne had wriggled and cried but had not attempted to rise. It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.

And in bed that night, after an exquisite meal out, for which Anne had refused to wear knickers; ‘I want to go on feeling everything my darling gave me!” she had been a demon in bed. Before that night she had been a gentle, if raunchy angel. That night and for the few left to them, she had been a down and dirty whore who had introduced Angel to the delights of anal sex. She had displayed a streak of exhibitionism that left Angel breathless. Driving the car home naked one night, she had got out at an all night station and gone to the toilet, then walked calmly back across the forecourt under full floodlights. Her bottom was constantly marked. The canings increased until on their final night together a climactic total of twenty strokes was dished out over the evening.

Chapter Seventeen

“And you never saw her again?” Lang asked her when she finished.

“A couple of times we met while I was at uni and we had good times in some hotels. But then she moved to Manchester and got involved in the scene there. I lost touch.”

“So you immediately understood the connection between pleasure and pain?”

“Yes.”

“I wonder. Goodnight.”

Abruptly the ear pad was closed and her mouth was zippered up. She felt him walk away and then he returned with a sleeping bag that he spread out on the ground, he helped her into it and zipped her into that as well, effectively imprisoning her as her hands were still bound.

Angel had no way of knowing whether he was standing over her in the firelight, looking down at her, contemplating whatever it was he going to do with her, or whether he was asleep on the other side of the fire. Her thoughts ran on and on. What had he meant about ‘I wonder’ when she had said she had instantly understood and responded to the relationship between pain and pleasure.

The sight of Anne’s bottom so eagerly presented for the cane played itself again and again in the darkness of the hood. She began to drift into a troubled doze. In her dreams Lang was standing above her, she could see him and he was a giant figure towering over her. But she wanted him there, she didn’t want to be alone. Then it wasn’t Lang, it was Anne who shook a cane at her and told her she had been a bad girl and she had to bend over. And with the thought of bending over and being caned by Anne came peace and she slept.

Peter Lang had waited until she was quite still before walking softly over and standing over her. She had come along beautifully. Better than he had expected. In a day’s time he would lead her on a leash back to the house with Ayesha.

He hand fed her breakfast and she made no protest. He led her to the bushes to perform her functions and she stayed patiently still while he cleaned her up.

Then he led her off. He made her wade through ice cold water, never knowing if the next step would plunge her into a hole up to her neck, or worse, would result in her being swept away. And always when she broke and couldn’t make another move into the dark; he was there. Insisting, leading, touching, goading just a little. By early afternoon he had the lead passed over one shoulder and was whistling happily as he strolled along. Behind him came the naked Angel, now walking almost unafraid. He led her over more planks and across streams that sounded like gorges to her. He led her to outcrops of rock and had her stand at their brinks, while he stood in front of her, just below her and when he was ready picked her up by the waist and set her down gently. And every time he did it, she flinched just a little less. Then just as the sun began to lower towards the West he decided it was time to move on.

He stopped her and opened an ear pad again.

It seemed like hours, it must have been hours, since she had heard anything. She was starting to suffer auditory hallucinations and was sure she could hear birdsong. She had stood on the brinks of some cliffs – he had picked her up and carried her to the edges. She had been sure that was what they were. Her toes had curled over the edges of sun warned rock, and then from nowhere he had lifted her to safety. His arms were strong around her and she was safer than she had ever felt – but it was so brief. And then she was alone in the dark again.

And now he opened an ear pad and his voice was there, lightening the darkness, breaking the monotony.

“Leading a naked woman around for a day and more, gives a man appetites, Angel.”

Her heart leaped with excitement. He wanted sex, he wanted sex with her. That would mean his body against hers, inside hers, warm and human. “But, you know,” he went on, “a man like me needs more than just sex.” Her heart sank. “I need to feel that you understand my right to cause you pain; to punish you if necessary. And
I
know that you need that as well. But do
you
know that?”

Angel nodded. Not because she agreed that he had the right to dominate her, to punish her, to do what he wanted with her, but because she needed his body.

He untied her wrists and raised them in front of her. She made no move to try and remove the hood or to run for it when they were free for a brief moment. In fact she wanted them held and secure once more. She felt a rope fastened to them and they were lifted until she was quite well stretched and standing on tip toe. She assumed she was tied to a tree branch. But it didn’t really matter, and it didn’t really matter if it was being done in front of an eager crowd.

Just so long as this quiet, infuriating, controlling man was there….

She felt something cold against the back of her ribs, he turned it slightly and in her state of heightened sensibility, she strained to understand the feeling he was trying to convey, and in her mind’s eye she began to reconstruct the shape. It was a doubled over belt.

Even through the almost impermeable thickness of the hood she heard the smack it made. And she also felt the blow – like a punch. It nearly knocked the wind out of her and she swung forwards on the end of her rope, nearly falling and spinning as she did so. The next blow fell across her stomach and she spun again, yelling into the hood as the hot stinging spread across her front. Another blow caught her across one thigh and she lifted it up in instinctive defence. Then another landed on her buttocks and she arched backwards, spinning again to present her breasts. They were duly dealt with and inside her hood she yelled herself hoarse. No one had ever abused her this way. Always she had been fit and strong and been the predator. But now she hung and spun blindly, naked and vulnerable; desperate for the man who was beating her to take her.

It was only when it had gone on for a long time and she was sweating and gasping in the accursed hood, that she fully took on board that it didn’t matter how much she wanted anything. She could yelp and howl and hope he would stop and fuck her. But he wouldn’t; not until she accepted that he would only do it when it suited him to do it. With that realisation came calm and she endured her partial suspension, calves aching atrociously while the belt stung her back, her thighs and her belly again and again. The gasping and crying inside the hood were almost deafening and she was aching for him to touch her directly.

When he did she cried out even more loudly. The belt landed an especially spiteful blow to the tops of the backs of her thighs and with no warning, as she was still absorbing it, his hand was at her delta. His fingers drove between the thighs she had clenched against the pain of his last strike and brooked no resistance. She surrendered to him, realising what he wanted to feel and realising also that it was what she wanted him to feel. As far as she could she spread her thighs and his fingers slid down into a hot morass between her lips. The coarse skin of his finger tip sliding over her clitoris made her shiver with desire for him.

His fingers withdrew and she sobbed with desolation. For a few moments nothing happened and she blindly craned her head around seeking for any clue as to what came next. His naked warmth against her stinging hide was the next thing she felt and she nearly fainted with pleasure at the intimacy of the touch after so long in the dark. She felt his chest against her back and the hard rod of his cock bored between the cheeks of her arse, his fingers reached around and plunged down once more, this time almost lifting her off her feet and cradling her entire body in his strong, capable, cruel hands. He lifted her legs backwards and with one hand located himself at her vaginal entrance and thrust in. The ache in her arms was now terrible, she was being fucked from behind and her whole weight now was being taken by her arms. He made no more move to support her, just kneading her breasts and plunging in and out of her; taking his pleasure. To her own amazement she suddenly broke through into another new understanding. It was up to her how she coped with it. He was entitled to take from her whatever he could because she wanted him to. And with this understanding she was able to add the pain in her arms to the pain from the beating and somehow it all came together with the gathering ecstasy at her belly.

When she climaxed, it was with an intensity she hadn’t experienced since Anne Lukins had first seduced her.

If she thought that her day was over when he cut her down and allowed her a few moments to recover, she was wrong. He fed the leash between her legs again and jerked it up with no lessening in his insistence. She scrambled up and was led off again.

This time it was to water again. He led her into it up to her ankles and then to her alarm, he dropped the lead, undid both ear pads and went. Frantically she cocked her head trying to find a trace of him.

“Do you trust me?” His voice came from some way ahead of her. “Then walk to me!”

Without a second thought she set off, if she fell into a pothole or was swept away, he would deal with it. Everything that concerned her was now his to do or not to do. She walked with confidence, hooded head held high. He wouldn’t let her fall. And sure enough, suddenly she was in his arms.

“Tell me what Anne Lukins should have done,” he said.

“Punished me! She should’ve done it to me. I wanted it so much! But I didn’t understand, I wanted to be told I was bad. I wanted to be told I was good. And I wanted to be punished to make me know the difference.”

“You’ve been good today,” he told her and inside her hood she smiled. She was naked and beaten, oozing sperm down her thighs, but this was how he wanted her so this was how she wanted to be. It was all so simple now.

But even then there was more. He reached between her legs again and gathered up the leash. Her ears were sealed off once more and with no more than one encouraging tug she walked easily and confidently after him, until a heavy hand on her shoulder stopped her. She felt the leash drop and the ear pads were opened. A strong breeze rushed past her, she heard and felt it. And she felt, she really felt the height of the place where she was standing.

“Move forwards half a pace!” His voice came from her left. She did as she was ordered and nearly fell. The front part of her lead foot was over nothing. Cautiously she felt about until she had the edge located and then she stood with her toes curled over it. Her heart thundered. What would it be this time?

“Do you trust me Angel?” His voice was still over on her left, soft, she couldn’t tell the distance. She nodded.

“Then take a step forwards.”

Her heart stopped for a second.

And then she took the longest step of her life. Into the dark.

Angel lifted her right foot and paced forwards into nothingness. And was caught.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d never let you fall!” His voice was close and in her darkness Angel laughed in pure delight.

The second night that they spent in the open, Angel, now freed of the hood but secure and happy in her collar and wrist cuffs, they camped round a fire he had built not more than ten feet away from where he had first ambushed her. He showed her the small outcrop that she had stepped off and how he had had to take no more than two steps to gather her up. Although had he not, she would have fallen all of four feet.

She fed happily from his hand and when it was dark he stood up and called for Ayesha. In just a few seconds she stepped into the clearing.

“Ayesha’s always been mine,” he told the bemused Angel. “I came here to claim her back and to claim you. She’s walked in the dark with me as well, haven’t you?” He turned back to where she knelt up in front of him and Angel didn’t think she had ever seen a look of such joy on any woman’s face. Gone was the distant, aloof expression that had been so familiar to anyone who had had dealings with her. Her bright-eyed, ecstatic calmness was more akin to the expression Blondie wore when Carlo was nearby. And now she could understand why.

She almost laughed aloud at the thought that the stereotypical reaction of two girls finding they were both entangled with one man was to have a catfight. But she felt nothing towards Ayesha now except a deep understanding. They were both lucky enough to belong to this man. He had allowed them to serve him and they would repay him with every breath they took.

He opened out two sleeping bags for them so they could sleep together and allowed them to keep their hands free so that they could get to know each other.

“You’ll be spending a lot of time together from now on,” he told them as he went to his own bag on the far side of the fire.

Angel immediately embraced Ayesha and kissed her deeply, savouring the feel of the heavy tongue ring as the slave’s tongue explored her mouth. Her hands roamed over the smooth, toned flesh and found the hot little pit at her delta, moist and open.

“Angel!”

Lang’s voice was soft but firm. He wanted her and she fumbled her way free of the bag and went to him.

He was lying on his bag and as she reached him he unzipped his trousers and pulled them and his pants down to mid-thigh. His cock lay semi-tumescent across one leg. It was plain that he needed some quickly administered relief and Angel crawled forwards and began to lick him into full erection. It was something she had never done before. The taste was strange, much more strong and earthy than the woman taste she was used to, but the skin was wonderfully soft. On the odd occasions that she had allowed a man access to her body, she had never felt any desire to investigate his cock. She had enjoyed a good struggle and a quick fuck, that was all, but here she knew she was pleasuring a man. Her man. Her Master, and his cock was the seat of the manhood that had shown her what she really was. Impatiently she shook her hair back and returned to licking the hardening shaft, instinctively she knew that a man wanted to see his woman worship his cock. And she did, slowly licking it to full, magnificent hardness. His helm seemed to dwarf her face, its round, gleaming fullness making her want to feel its smoothness on her tongue. She rounded her tongue and flicked it at the slit that traversed the head, exploring him and listening for his sighs of pleasure. Then at last she knew it was time. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, furling her lips across her teeth and sank slowly onto him. It was alarming at first. He filled her so completely that her tongue was flattened to the floor of her mouth as she ducked lower onto him and felt the massive helm lodge against the back of her throat. She almost gagged but managed to stop herself by relaxing and concentrating on his pleasure. Then she began the slow nodding motion she had seen slaves use on their masters, giving her own Master the feel of penetrating a tight and responsive vagina. She knew that at any moment he would start to come and although she wasn’t certain she could get it all down she was determined to do her best and not to do anything that might inhibit his climax. She felt his hand on her head and he began to thrust into her mouth more forcibly. It was up to her how she dealt with the size of him and the excitement of that thought made her eager to receive the tangible evidence of his pleasure. Suddenly she felt the massive thing swell even more. Above her he gave a strained grunt and pushed her head further down onto himself, his huge helm lodged firmly in her throat and he began to come.