Slave World 2 - The Ties That Bind (38 page)

Donna licked her upper lip, smiling at the salty-sweet residue and lingering fragrance from the night before. Her taste alone was beyond equal, and unlike anything Donna had ever experienced. It was as if the release born from her suffering had a fragrance all its own.

“Set it on the table and assume your position.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Stefani crossed the room with measured, confident steps that made the modest endowment of her breasts bounce ever so slightly, and the recently groomed butterfly design of her slightly darker pubic hair move with a life all its own. In the process of placing the serving tray on the table beside Donna’s favorite chair, she bent slightly to display the pale complexion of her tone backside with its liberal criss-crossing of deep, black and blue welts. Seated between her cheeks was the bulbous protrudance of a large butt-plug, engraved with the initials DB. It was semi-hollow, gradually secreting the contents of its reservoir over an eight-hour period before needing to be refilled. In Stefani’s case it was filled with spice-jell, both lubricating her ass for instant use while setting it aflame with agony from within. It was also the replacement to her slave collar.

Stefani quickly took her place before the chair, going to her hands and knees, bracing herself moments before Donna eased into her chair and propped one of her legs up on Stef’s broad shoulders. Her other foot came to rest on Stef’s abused ass cheek so that her toes could manipulate the swollen plug nestled deep inside her, no different than how some might find a sense of meditative calm in manipulating a string of worry beads.

Donna closed her eyes, taking a sip of tea. The plug moved mechanically under her toes… Stef’s slow steady breathing at her feet grew deeper… the occasional sound of a cool morning breeze rustling through the curtains… A mourning bird’s soft, mournful cry in the distance… It was peaceful moments like this that Donna had always taken solace in, helping her find her focus during troubled times. After several minutes her eyes cracked open, putting more pressure on the plug, continuing its slow, rhythmic movement.

Stefani seemed to be taking last night’s heavy dose of caning rather well this morning, as usual, showing no sign of discomfort or lingering pain in her measured, graceful movements. Not even the plug and the fire snaking through the pit of her bowels seemed to faze her, at least outwardly. It really was amazing the way she could simply turn the pain off, controlling it no different than her emotions. That fleeting thought was quickly replaced with an inward smirk, the little slut could try to pretend it all she wanted, but Donna knew better. She could see swirling in the depths of her eyes when they finally glazed over, unfocused and lost within her torment. The way her body shimmering with perspiration and desire, drew comfort in her anguish. Stefani was in pain and she was suffering horribly, and she loved it. Then the whimpering moans of pleasure would begin, when the pain finally became pleasure, followed by cum and tears. It was such a beautiful thing to behold in a woman, after the walls of resistance finally come tumbling down, and she reaches the point of utter surrender.

“Draw me a bath,” Donna said huskily as she set her empty cup of tea on the table.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And you’ll be joining me. That sewer of a cunt between your legs is in need of a vigorous cleaning after last night. I could smell the stench as soon as you walked into the room.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Incoming transmission,” the sweet, highly feminine voice of the house AI chimed, lightly.

Donna’s visions of a long and highly satisfying bath faded with foreboding gloom, wondering what was about to go wrong with her life now.

“Connect call. Burke, here.”

“Donna, is that you? There’s a lot of interference, you’re coming in grabbled.”

“Nathan?” Donna’s voice grew animated, and she leapt from her chair, taking several steps towards the wall-mounted display filled with the rough, static filled image that jumped and froze every few seconds. You couldn’t tell by the visual, but it could only be Nathan sitting at a desk. “Nathan! Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I can’t hear…sorry, but I’ve been trying to get a hold of you…”

“Dammit! Cassandra, clean that mess up so I can talk to my brother.”

“Working, Miss. Burke.” There was only a slight pause before the AI continued. “Unable to enhance transmission clarity at this time due to an unknown and unnatural interference source.”

“What the hell does that mean? Try rerouting the signal,” Donna froze in mid-sentence and her blood ran suddenly cold. “Shit, we’re being jammed. Donovan, you asshole.”

“Donna. I’ll be leaving… morning for Margo. …back in month…”

“Nathan, if you can hear me,
do not
come back to the Ranch. Donovan has—”

“Donna, what did…? What … the Ranch? I’m losing you.”

The screen went suddenly black and silent.

“Transmission terminated,” Cassandra said stating the obvious.

“Reconnect,” Donna growled angrily, knowing that it was a futile gesture. She could only hope that Nathan would do the wrong thing for once in his life and just stay the hell away from the Ranch. She didn’t believe Donovan would be as ‘merciful’ to him, as he had been to her for all these years.

“Failure to reconnect. Would you like me to try again?”

“Don’t bother, it’s no use. And here I thought this was starting out to be a half-way decent day.”

Unbeknownst to Donna, Stefani, formally Vessel 2 of 5, and a Sword of Divine Justice for the Liberum in Perpetuum, listened inconspicuously, yet intently to her Mistress’ conversation. At one time she had been an instrument of the Lord’s will in its purist form, until her inconceivable fall from grace and self-imposed banishment in an attempt to regain what was lost.

It had been difficult, even with her conditioned and disciplined mind to maintain her stoic acceptance of mortal perversions over the last year, waiting for His forgiveness that never seemed to come. Her period of penance had placed her in the very heart of Sheol, wallowing in the belly of the beast itself, as she encouraged the cleansing purification of pain at every turn from her owners. She prayed endlessly for the humbling debasement that would finally rip the unclean and sinful desires from her very flesh, while enduring the physical defilement of her once chaste body in the most odious and unspeakable ways. Her silent pleas seemed to fall on the deaf ears of a malevolent God, while she was tormented day and night with maddening guilt and shame for her weakness. Her soul had been reprehensibly riddled with evil craving beyond her control that no amount of pain had banished, it only made them worse. In the end, her quest for inner peace and spiritual purification had only made her dirtier, feeding her affliction until that was all that remained. The Lord knew the true depth of her sickness though, and for her sin of spiritual adultery she had finally come to rest with her current owner. She was a master of the fine art of sadistic pleasures, unlike the others, taking her body and mind to the very brink of the abyss before casting it helplessly downward in the slime of blissful debauchery. It was as if the Lord had sent her to Mistress Donna Burke so that she would truly suffer for her weakness of the flesh, by continually tempting her with more than she could willfully resist.

Stefani saw herself as a lost soul now; no longer worthy to be called a Vessel of God even in thought. She held no illusion about her future any longer. She could never be able to return to the Liberum in Perpetuum, even if she did find the faded chance of absolution that she sought. Her physical purity had been ripped in twain, polluted with the filth of countless men. She would most likely die while committing some despicable sin of the flesh on this God-forsaken world, only to be condemned to eternal darkness as nothing more than a vile whore for the Demons of Hell. Perhaps she’d known this was her fate from her first moment of mortal weakness, in that horrifying release during a session of mortification in her Acolyte’s chamber a year and a half ago. The source of her inner strength, and her service as one of the Lord’s Swords of Divine Justice, had come to an abrupt and inglorious end in one frightening episode of pleasure born from pain.

This Lord moved in mysterious ways though, and all things in life stem from his benign providence and omnipotent design. A slave was such a common thing on this despicable world; ignored and overlooked, and often times treated no differently than an ignorant animal, or as in the case of Mistress Donna, used as a simple piece of furniture. Stefani had learned much in her time as a piece of furniture, or a living signpost, or temporary bed warmer to a multitude of faceless sinners. She was seen but not heard… moving within the shadows, becoming one with them… watching, listening, learning things that a slave had no reason to concern themselves with. In the past she would have struck with divine retribution to smite down the wicked in their most cherished moments of weakness. Now she was damned, a lost and forsaken soul no better than they were, but even lost souls could still look towards the light in hopes of being useful to the Lord in some unforeseen way.

There was a vile darkness like no other taking root on this world that spit in the eye of God itself and His most glorious creation, known as man. Abomination’s… Man-beasts… Twisted misshapen demons spilling from the womb of hell itself that would in time spread their filth across all of creation. It had to be stopped, there was no other choice if man’s immortal soul was to be saved, and perhaps in doing so, an empty Vessel of God might find her path to salvation.

The cabin was dim and stuffy, reeking of sweat and sex, and let’s not forget revenge. I took a deep, satisfying breath. The smell, I love it. It was so filthy, so wild and free, so me. Even my new hairstyle, no longer a prim and proper ponytail for the first time in forever it seemed, reflected my new attitude. It hung unkempt and unrestrained across my shoulders, gliding down my back. My mane was so beautiful now, just the way it was meant to be.

The fancy bed Burke had installed in the master bedroom of the shuttle was now a ramshackle mess of unruly desire, with me at the center like an obscene display of depravity and lust. His cock began to enter the sloppy mess of my cunt again, and I gritted my teeth, savoring every painful inch. I bore down on it harder, letting it fill me from the inside, then finally riding it slowly. I’d been at it for nearly an hour now, fucking like an animal, fucking like a beast. That is what he’d named me after all and rightly so.

“How does it feel to fuck a goddess?” I giggled like a deranged fiend. “It’s the best, and last pussy, you’ll ever get.”

Of course, Alex couldn’t answer me; he couldn’t even as much as whimper. I’d disabled his speech center along with most of his motor functions, before reactivating him. All I cared about was his cock staying hard and his ability to feel pain, this was as much about me having a bit of malevolent fun, as it was fulfilling a carnal urge. Unfortunately for Alex, playtime was just about over and then the real suffering could begin.

“You should have never crossed me, droid, but you know that now, don’t you? No one fucks over Pony 18 and gets away with it.”

I moaned, riding him harder and faster, drawing closer to release while leering down at the ruined mess of his face. I’d cut and then slowly peeled away the skin some time ago. His speech center might be disabled, but his eyes screamed such a beautiful sonata of anguish in its place.

“Who’s the inferior creature now,” I screamed. My clit felt ready to burst beneath my fingertips. “Answer me!” I slammed the combat knife into his chest already riddled with puncture wounds, leaning forward until I hovered inches away from the misery filling his eyes. “That’s right, you can’t; you’re not allowed to speak to higher life forms, are you?”

The pleading look of helplessness staring up at me was almost enough to get me off in itself, it had numerous times already. Next playtime will have to be with a real person instead of a droid. Maybe with the pilot of the ship, I grinned, feeling a sudden tightening between my legs and an electric flash of heat ripping through my body.

I leaned back, resting my weight on the cock impaling my body, tossing my head from side to side, whinnying in pleasure. The splattering gush of warm, musky spray dripped off my fingers, misting through them, covering Alex. This one was so intense, almost like a massive discharge of raw, angry emotion that it made my head spin and left me feeling limp and spent.

As I sat astride Alex for several long minutes recovering and catching my breath, I couldn’t help but chuckle. This was it, everything I’d always wanted, and this was only the beginning of Pony 18’s new life. Poor little Alex wasn’t going to think so in a few minutes, as if I cared. He earned this and much more.

“Well, Mr. Superior Being,” I groaned sensually, rising off him. Damn, I’m going to miss the feel of this cock. “I’ve had fun, but all good things must come to an end. It’s time to get some rest and then get the hell off this shit-hole rock.”

While stretching out the kinks with several painful squats and side bends, I took one last opportunity to torment my prey before he died. I wonder, do droids die? I’m sure that question has been debated for countless years, but it was nothing more than a passing thought to someone like myself. Either way, Alex was going to find out first hand very shortly.

He was warm when I cuddled up to him, molding myself to his side, while teasing provocatively at the puncture wounds in his chest with my finger tip. My head came to rest on his shoulder, after settling in.

“You know, sweetness, things could have been different between us. In a way, I was actually looking forward to being your breeding mare, and the machine you made for me was devilishly perverse.” The hilt of the combat knife felt comfortably slick in the palm of my hand behind my back. “I like the way you think, you’re warped and demented like I am, but I’m also a vindictive bitch who holds a grudge. The whole thing about taking my babies and chopping me up for parts…”