Authors: Lindsey Brooks
Tags: #erotic romance, #bdsm, #bondage, #spanking, #sex slave, #domination and submission, #slavegirl, #parallel reality
The blonde’s laughter tinkled.
“Don’t be silly darling. They’re only slaves. And I enjoy it. It’s
exciting. See?” She parted her thighs, revealing the pink and
swollen crescents glistening between them.
Drake grabbed her and pulled her
to the floor. “Exciting, eh? Let’s see if you think this is
exciting. On your knees with the slaves.”
“What?” She got to her feet.
“Rafael, you’re not on the.... Ow!”
His broad palm had smacked hard
on her narrow bottom.
“Kneel, I said.”
“Oh, Rafael!” Giggling nervously
she sank to the carpet and assumed the same position as the
others.
Drake pulled the side table next
to the sofa in front of her and put the papers he was holding on
its top. “Tania, fetch your Mistress’s cheque book and a pen.”
The slave looked at Persephone.
“Mistress?”
“Never mind her. I’ll be the one
caning you if you don’t obey.”
As soon as she returned with the
items he wanted, he handed the pen to Persephone.
“This is why I came. I knew you
wouldn’t do anything to keep the promise you made Christine if I
wasn’t here to see that you did.” He tapped the documents before
her. “Her freedom certificates. Three copies for your
signature.”
“So that’s where you’ve been all
day,” the blonde said. “But, darling, I would have got around to it
eventually.”
“Sure you would, if you ever
managed to drag yourself away from your ‘fun’. Have you seen her?
They put the ointment the Company gives the slave girls on her and
that was all. I had to pay to have her sedated. How would you like
lying for days with your body torn and hurting?”
She did not reply. Drake tapped
the papers again. Persephone signed each sheet, and he folded them
and returned them to his pocket.
“You promised her money.”
The blonde opened her
chequebook.
“She’s called Christine Naylor,
not that you troubled to find out.” He watched her write the name
and move the pen to the amount line. “Fifty thousand dollars. No,
one hundred. You won’t miss it.”
Persephone wrote the amount
without hesitation and signed the cheque. He added it to his pocket
and she began to rise. His hand on her shoulder forced her down
again.
“I’m not finished with you.” He
picked up the horsehair flogger she had left on the sofa.
Persephone’s head jerked up.
“What are you…?” Her question ended in a sharp intake of breath as
Drake flicked the tips of the flogger onto her small left tit.
“Quiet! Tonight I’m giving you
some of what you’ve been so free in dishing out to others. You’re
going to learn what it means to be a slave girl, ’Sephone.”
“No! Oh, no, I’m not.... Ouch!”
The horsehair stung her again and she rubbed her breasts, lips
twisting.
“First lesson. What does a slave
call a free man?”
“Master,” she said quickly. “Oh,
Lord, not again so soon!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
A flick of his wrist dusted the flogger across her breasts once
more when she did not immediately answer. “Come on, and don’t lie.
I’ll know.”
Persephone mewed and her already
blushing cheeks darkened further. “I… we… we got stopped by the
police this afternoon. They made us call them ‘Master’ too.” She
gave a shiver.
“Stopped for what?” Drake
demanded.
“P… Public Sapphism. But they
let us go without any charges.”
“And I can guess why.” He shook
his head. “You were damned lucky, ’Sephone. Then you come back here
and right away you’re acting stupid again.” Drake looked at Pam.
“What did they do to you?”
“Nothing. It was only....”
“That’s just as well,” he
interrupted, swinging the flogger in an arc that swept its tails
across Persephone’s breasts in another fiery caress. As she
whimpered and squirmed the hotel slaves appeared, no longer
sweat-stained, and with their hair and makeup perfect once more.
Drake ushered them to the door, had a last quiet word and closed
and locked it behind them. He returned to Persephone, unbuttoning
his coat. “Bedroom. And crawl.” While she passed him on all fours
he grinned at the red bloom the cop’s belt had left on her
buttocks, then slashed the horsehair into the cleft separating them
and onto the pout of her pussy lips below.
“Ow, that hurt! Please don’t,
Rafael. I’ve got….”
“Bedroom now!” he barked. “And
call me Master.”
Following directly behind, Pam
saw Persephone’s sex tighten at his stern tone. It was still shiny
with dew, swollen and bright pink. From the way her own pussy had
reacted to Drake’s words she guessed it would look little
different.
“Oh, why is he doing this now?”
the blonde groaned as they crawled into the bedroom. “I can’t have
anything go wrong now.”
“Silence! Or should I remind you
how
you
deal with slave girls who indulge in idle chatter
when they should be obeying?”
Pam saw his head turn in her
direction and was almost sure he gave her the briefest of
winks.
“Stand by the bed,” he told her,
pointing with the flogger. “Put your hands behind your back.”
With her excitement beginning to
pulse again, Pam obeyed. She had a pretty good idea why Persephone
had not told Drake to go to hell and had him thrown out. Instead,
the blonde climbed onto the bed when he told her to and let him
arrange her against two pillows he put against the headboard and a
third under the small of her back. She looked at him, eyes
shining.
“Tania,” he said. “Wrist and
ankle cuffs, leather ones, and two short straps.”
“Oh, Rafael,” Persephone said
breathily and spread her legs, “If you want me....”
He dusted the flogger over her
bare cleft.
“Ooh!” She closed her legs
abruptly and dived a hand between them. “Ooh, that was right on my
little button, you beast.” She laughed. “You haven’t lost your
touch, darling.”
The flogger licked around the
outer curve of her right buttock. “What do you call me?”
“Ooh! Master! I call you
Master.” Persephone did not fight as he buckled padded leather
cuffs on her wrists and clipped them to snap rings on the headboard
of the bed, stretching her arms to either side. Her breathing
quickened and Pam could see little beads of sweat on her brow and
upper lip as she tugged half-heartedly and ineffectually at her
restraints, almost as if she was assuring herself they would not
yield. The blonde gave a nervous mew when Drake cuffed her right
ankle and forced her leg upwards and outwards, securing it with one
of the straps to the same ring as her right wrist. He did the same
with her left leg, leaving her almost bent double on her back, with
her ankles held widely apart and all of her buttocks and the swell
of her sex exposed and vulnerable.
Once more Drake flicked the
horsehair flogger across her bottom, catching both cheeks with a
swift back and forth motion of his wrist. Persephone hissed.
“The cops leathered you, eh?” he
asked, smiling thinly as he eyed the deep red blush on both of her
rear cheeks which a liberal application of her anaesthetic salve
had not been able to prevent.
“Yes, Master.” She tugged at her
restraints again.
Drake took off his tie and
unfastened his shirt.
“Oh, you’re not going to… to
fuck me in front of the slaves?” Persephone said, managing to sound
dismayed and excited at the same time. “Ooh, how deliciously
naughty! You never did that when we were lovers.”
“And I’m not doing it now,” he
said flatly.
His gaze flickered over the little
purple bruises surrounding the small wounds the jewelled pins had
left in Pam’s breasts. She saw the corners of his mouth turn down.
“But I guess I could add some decoration to your tits, the way you
obviously did to the slave girls today. Want me to send for your
jewel case, ’Sephone?”
“Nooo!” the helpless blonde
wailed, and tugged more forcefully at the straps restraining her.
“You have to let me go. I’ve got important business to attend to. I
can’t have anything interfere with it. I’ll behave myself, I
promise.”
“Sure you will,
for just as long as you’re strapped down tight. And that’s the way
you’ll stay until I decide otherwise,
slave girl
.” Flashing a grin, Rafael
dropped his shirt on top of his coat and reached for his belt
buckle.
Pam watched the movement of hard
muscle across his torso and swallowed. The buzz of the drug was
filling her brain and the increasingly maddening tickle in her sex
was making it harder to keep her hands pressed into the small of
her back. It became almost impossible when he removed his pants and
stood staring sternly at Persephone with his rigid cock curving
arrogantly before his belly. Of all the mingling emotions the sight
of the helplessly bound and naked girl stirred in her, to Pam’s
amazement the one she felt most was envy. It could only be the
Venus Dust, but knowing that did not stop her sheath quivering
eagerly as she looked at Drake’s naked
body.
“Ooh, Master, darling,”
Persephone cooed, in a complete turnabout from her protest.
“Milly,” he said, “fetch me an
oiled butt-plug, a dildo and the thickest rattan from the
rack.”
“Oh no, you mustn’t beat me!
I told you I
have important business. I
can’t be....” She broke off as Milly handed Drake a rattan at least
a half-
inch thick.
He laid the other items
she gave him on the bed and smoothed his hand along the length of
the cane. The menace in the action made Pam shiver. The rattan was
stiff as well as thick. That thickness would spread the force more
than a thinner one but it still looked dauntingly wicked to
Pam.
“What a slave girl wants
isn’t
important. You’ve said that often
enough, ’Sephone. It’s time you learned what it really means.” He
slashed the cane through the air and all of the girls flinched from
the whoosh of its passage.
Persephone
wrenched
at her bindings and squirmed. “I’ll ruin you.
I’ll see you never set foot on an airship again.”
He gave a scoffing laugh and Pam
saw his hard cock vibrate gently. “No you won’t. I know what you
are, and I’ve a pretty good idea what you’re going to become before
much longer. Christine got twenty on her tits, thanks to you. We’ll
start with the same to your ass.”
“Noo!” Persephone wailed.
The wicking sound of the cane
striking her buttocks ended her plea.
“Ooh, God, that hurts!” She
wriggled her hips and jerked her wrists and ankles as the
startlingly white line that had appeared on her narrow rear-cheeks
turned an equally startling red. Another soon joined it and had her
hissing and gasping. Again there had been no warm up. Whatever
Drake’s past relationship with the blonde mistress had been, this
was to be punishment without pleasure as far as he was concerned.
Her wriggles became more anguished as he laid on the strokes, each
one striking the taut skin over the fleshy rounds of her little
bottom and proving Drake could hit a lot harder than Tania.
Persephone’s gasps turned to whimpers and then to cries as her
buttocks yielded under the steady, regular impacts of the thick
rattan and the overlapping weals on her skin glowed fiery red.
Pam knew no one would pay any
heed to her cries. To anyone who heard, she was just another slave
receiving a richly deserved punishment or being tormented for the
amusement of her owner. And she could not help feeling that
Persephone deserved to be punished. The ache that
lingered in the slowly fading welts on her own buttocks and breasts
did not encourage any sympathy for the blonde mistress’s
suffering
. What Pam felt was another, far more surprising
emotion. If it was true that Drake had taken a liking to her, why
was he devoting so much attention to Persephone? Not, she hastily
reminded herself, that the fierce caning he was lashing across the
blonde’s writhing bottom was the kind of attention she wanted from
him. Nevertheless, astonishing though it was, she had to admit she
was jealous. Her pussy quivered and her nipples were so hard they
ached.
Rafael took his time, waiting
for Persephone’s more frantic struggles to subside after each blow
before giving her the next. He had reached eighteen and the shade
of the first welts was deepening to purple when her breathless
cries subtly changed in tone. The note of pain and anguish remained
but was joined by a huskiness, which revealed that was not all she
was feeling.
“Ooh, Master! I was naughty. I
admit it.”
The cane smacked down hard,
deeply indenting the flesh of her buttocks. They bounced back as if
to welcome the next stroke. As Drake raised his arm Persephone
squirmed madly.
“Oh, I’m a bad girl! I can’t
help it.” Her cries rose in pitch. “Ooh, I’m sorry! I’ll be good.
Really I will.” A strangled groan of torment followed the next
crack and thud of the rattan and she heaved herself up by the
straps on her wrists and ankles. “Yes, yes, I deserve it. I’m so
naughty. I
should
be caned. I should be whipped too. It’s
only right.”
Drake said nothing as she
continued babbling, growing less coherent with each stroke that
followed. He did not stop until he had dealt her at least forty by
Pam’s guess. He bent and examined her buttocks. They were a
half-dozen shades of red and as many of purple, and on one of them
a thin, bloody line had appeared.
“That’s enough,” he said.
Persephone stopped her frenzied
struggles, blinked away a wash of tears and stared at him from
between her parted legs. The outer lips of her sex gaped, revealing
the inner ones were bright pink and puffy. At their apex her bud
swelled and shone. “Ooh my pussy’s going crazy,” she said between
gasps. “Give it to me, Rafael. Oh, I want it now!”