Teena Thyme (26 page)

Lack of oxygen, that was probably the answer. That corset had been so damnably tight, I'd probably simply passed out and gone into a sort of coma and everything else had been stimulated by the sort of stuff that was always going around in my head.

Except that I was pretty damned sure I'd never fantasised about being tied up, beaten, pierced, and all that other stuff. Well, not until then, at least, but it had been a bit different since, especially in those terrible little dreams that refused to stop coming with the nights. I tried to sit up without disturbing Anne-Marie, or without tugging on the leash.

What the hell was wrong with me?
Look at yourself, you stupid tart! Go on, take a good look! You're like something out of a bad film!

'And bloody frustrated with it.' The words came out aloud, though not loud enough to have awakened Anne-Marie and yet, when I turned guiltily towards her, I saw that she was indeed awake and had turned her head, so that she was watching me out of one hooded eye.

'You should have said, Teenie,' she said huskily. 'I just wanted to see how long you could last out.' She struggled into a sitting position, releasing her hold on my leash and letting it droop between us. 'Not tired, then?' she asked teasingly.

'Knackered,' I replied unceremoniously, 'but my fanny feels like it's going to blow up, if you must know.' I groaned and shook my head, angry at myself for being so blunt. 'If you've finished with me the least you could do is release my hands so I can see to my own needs.'

'And just who is supposed to be the mistress around here?' I looked at her, surprised by what sounded like a sudden hardness in her tone, but I saw the amusement in her eyes and relaxed again.

'You are, I know,' I conceded, 'but—'

'But nothing, Teenie,' she replied curtly. 'I am your mistress and you get satisfied when I'm ready for you to be satisfied and not before. That's in the rules too, you know.'

'So, in the meantime I'm supposed to wait and stew, is that the idea?'

'Got it in one, slave girl,' she laughed. 'And the longer I make you wait, the better it'll be. I can even arrange for you to have a proper shagging, if that's what you'd prefer?' I looked at her in complete surprise.

'A proper shagging?' I echoed. 'How do you mean?' She pulled a curious face and giggled.

'What do you think I mean?' She leaned forward and reached out to flick my left nipple bell; her way, I realised, of emphasising how much she was still in charge. 'A proper shagging, by a man - well, a male, anyway. Nice big cock, too.'

'Who? What?' I was confused and wasn't sure I wanted de-confusing. Anne-Marie sat back again and slipped further up the bed until she was leaning back against the pillows piled against the headboard.

'My brother, Andy,' she began to explain. 'Well, he's not my brother at all, really. His mother is my father's mistress, but daddy isn't his father, though he does pay to support him.'

'So he's a sort of stepbrother?' I concluded. Anne-Marie pursed her lips.

'Well, sort of,' she agreed, 'but not really, otherwise it'd be incest, wouldn't it?' My eyes widened in surprise.

'Incest? You mean you—?'

'Yes, I do,' she replied, as calmly as if we were discussing hairstyles or handbags. 'I told you, he's got a terrific cock, very big and he's also very good at lasting it out.' I thought of Erik and groaned, mentally at least. Anne-Marie continued.

'He's only twenty,' she said, 'and in many ways more like a girl than a boy. He's certainly no he-man type, but as I say, he's got what a girl needs.'

'But I thought—' I began again, but Anne-Marie laughed.

'You thought I was a lesbian, pure and simple?' she said, finishing the sentence for me. 'Well, I suppose I sort of am, in a manner of speaking. I certainly prefer women to men, with all that sweaty grunting and trying to prove how macho they are.

'And one woman knows how to satisfy another woman so much better too, don't you think?' I realised I was nodding in agreement at this. 'But then there's no dildo in the world feels quite like a real throbbing piece of man-meat, which makes me quite lucky having dear Andy, I suppose. I think you'll like him too,' she added, 'assuming you're not totally anti-male, that is.'

'No, I'm not,' I said. 'This is my first... well, you know.' I shrugged. 'But where is this Andy now? You said he lives here?' I wondered if perhaps this erstwhile not-quite-stepbrother had been in the house all along and had maybe even been listening, or worse still, watching: I certainly wouldn't have known if someone had opened the door and come in while I'd been down there between Anne-Marie's thighs.

'I loaned him to my friend Penny for the night,' Anne-Marie replied, grinning. 'I sort of hoped you'd... well, you know,' she shrugged, 'and I didn't want him around getting in the way or making you nervous - not the first night, anyway.'

'I see.' I wasn't quite sure exactly how to react to this latest revelation. It was one thing to play slave girl for Anne-Marie, but a complete stranger? What was I talking about? Anne-Marie herself was little more than that. No, it was because he was a male, this Andy, and the thought of disporting myself like this, naked and all chained up the way I was. Anyway, I thought, what did she mean by saying she'd lent him to her friend? Did I really want to know?

'I'm not sure,' I said eventually. 'I'm really not sure.' I looked down at myself again, a gesture that was not lost on Anne-Marie.

'Don't worry about shocking Andy,' she grinned. 'The sight of a shaved pussy and bare titties ain't gonna worry him, I promise you.' But it would, I thought to myself, worry me, or didn't that count? Was I now, as Anne-Marie's slave, voluntary though that status was, expected to display myself to whomever she decided?

'I think,' she went on after some thought, 'that I need to give you a little reminder, don't you?'

'A reminder?' I tried to look and sound innocent, but I knew exactly what she meant - well, exact enough as made no odds. I lowered my head. 'I'm sorry, mistress,' I said demurely, dropping back into role once again, but it was apparently too late.

'Up!' she commanded. 'On your feet and get over to that chair.' She indicated a high backed leather chair that stood solidly just in front of the window. It was either late Victorian or early Edwardian and looked very heavy.

'Round the back of it,' Anne-Marie said, following me across the room. 'Now, bend over the back - that's right.' She guided me down with a slight pressure on the back of my neck and then looped the leash forward over the front of the seat and moved around to secure it to one of the rails between the front legs, ensuring that I could not straighten up and had to remain there, almost doubled over, my naked buttocks raised and presented for the punishment she clearly intended to mete out.

21
.

There was nothing hurried about my punishment and Anne-Marie was only too well aware that the slow ritual, the pauses, the casual approach, all these added to an atmosphere that was so heavy I felt as if I was having to fight for my breath, and that was nothing to do with the strictures imposed by my waist cincher.

'You must realise, little Teenie slave,' she whispered, bending close to my ear, 'that
I
am mistress in this house and
I
say what does or does not happen to my slaves. Andy, you see, is as much my slave as you now are, but better trained and more experienced. I think you'll also be pleasantly surprised when you finally meet him, but that's not the point.

'I shan't let him fuck you if you don't want him to, of course,' she continued, 'that's in the rules, too. But you
will
show yourself to him in any way I decide and, apart from actual penetration, you
will
do anything else with him I tell you to, is that understood?' I nodded and opened my mouth to say something, but immediately it was filled for me, as Anne-Marie pressed a soft rubber ball between my teeth and buckled a retaining strap at the nape of my neck to prevent me spitting it out again.

'Oh, sweet,' she trilled. She came around and knelt down, so that she was looking up into my face. 'I'll have to let you see yourself gagged,' she said. 'A gag does make a girl's face look so gorgeous, I've always thought; makes those big eyes look even bigger.'

I lowered my eyes again and sort of hung there, listening to the sound of Anne-Marie's high heels, muffled somewhat by the carpet, but still sending out a distinct message of power and control. Why, I wondered, did my own heels not give me that same feeling of power? The answer, of course, was simple - Anne-Marie wasn't wearing slave chains and neither did her boobs ring out with every slightest movement of her delicious body. My heels were just a further symbol of my surrender and complete subjugation.

My semi-reverie was brought to a sudden end by the feel of something cold against my bottom, but not across the cheeks of my buttocks, where I was expecting to receive whatever punishment Anne-Marie intended for me. Instead, what felt like a finger pressed firmly against my puckered rear orifice and, a moment later, it slipped inside, aided by the thick coating of something very greasy with which it was apparently coated.

I started to protest, but then for the first time realised the significance of the gag that filled my mouth. Yes, I had a safe word all right, but how could I possibly utter it? A momentary panic seized me; was this, had this all been, just a part of some devious plan to lull me into a false sense of security, to trap me in a situation from which I could no longer draw back?

'Relax, Teenie girl.' Anne-Marie's mouth was close to my ear again and her tone was soothing. I grunted and mewled an attempted protestation, but she simply stroked my left breast with the hand that was not probing my bottom hole. 'Take it easy,' she said, cupping my pendant breast gently. 'This is actually pretty nice. Trust me and you'll see.'

I relaxed, despite my misgivings, but a moment later I was all tension again, as no sooner was her finger withdrawn than something else was pressed against my lubricated orifice and I guessed instantly what it might be.

'Naughty girl,' Anne-Marie chided me and her hand slapped down across my right buttock, drawing a yelp of surprise from behind my gag and instantly, if temporarily, forcing me to relax the muscles I had contracted so determinedly against the proposed invasion.

Temporary lapse it may have been, but it was all she needed and, an instant later, I felt something solid and rounded forcing its way past my sphincter muscle and slowly penetrating my back passage with an inevitability I was helpless to resist.

'Relax...' I heard her say. 'Relax and it won't hurt. It's only a little plug anyway.' Little? It felt huge within me, though the final inch or so of its length was apparently much narrower, for my bottom closed about it, holding it firmly in place. I felt a maternal pat on my behind and then Anne-Marie leaned around in front of me.

'You have a choice, Teenie slave,' she said. 'Either I can use a butt strap to secure the plug, or you can promise not to try to expel it. Not that it'll be that easy to get it out without help.'

'Mmm mmmmm,' I gurgled. Anne-Marie laughed.

'I'll take that as a promise, shall I?' she said. I nodded and she patted me again. 'Good girl,' she said encouragingly. 'You won't regret it.' She reached beneath me and I felt fingers toying with my sex. 'Now,' I heard her say, almost as if she were talking to herself, 'I wonder should I plug this pretty little tunnel too.' There was a silence that lasted perhaps three seconds, but which seemed to hang in the air forever, before she spoke again.

'No, not this time,' she decided, and I heard her straightening up. 'I've something much better for that little pussy, once we've made it really receptive.' I wondered what she meant, but of course there was no way I could challenge her, but a few minutes later, a few minutes during which I heard her opening and closing drawers, followed by a gentle chinking of metal, she instructed me to look up and I understood exactly what she meant.

I now know that what she was using was what is referred to commonly as a double dildo strap on, but right then, as I raised my head, the sight before me was so bizarre and unexpected that, for a moment, I almost believed she really had grown a massive penis, even though I myself had so recently been between those thighs exploring and attending to her definitely and undeniable female sex with as much fervour and dedication as I could muster.

'Mmmmm?' I grunted. Anne-Marie nodded and smiled.

'Yes, Teenie slave,' she said, 'this is all for you, but first we must make sure you are properly punished for your silly thoughts earlier. After that, although as I said earlier it's no substitute for the real thing, I'm going to fuck you till you squeal like a little piglet!'

You don't really want to hear about what happened next, do you? You don't want the details, to know how I...

The whip she used was a curious replication of an ancient cat o'nine tails, though not as severe, for the thongs were much lighter and made of what I later found to be braided rubber rather than leather, and the tips were not weighted. Nonetheless, in the hands of an expert - which Anne-Marie most definitely was - they were capable of delivering a deliciously stinging slap that spread out across my flaring buttocks and which set me to writhing and bucking, so that the rubber dildo plug within my anus seemed to suddenly come alive.