The Meeting Point (2 page)

Dare she take another oxytocin hit? The pipe and mask lay just at her fingertips. She reached out, almost touching it, then snapped her hand back, lifting her drink instead. She couldn't risk tripping out into ultimate unity at a bloody bar when she was so tantalizingly close to her lover. She sipped the drink slowly, taking in everything she could around her, filing it away for when she might need it.

Draining her glass, she nodded to the bartender and hopped off the stool, still a little unsteady on her feet, and walked back out to the main lobby.

Scanning the throng of chattering women, her heart bulged as she found the sign she was looking for.

Viewing Chamber One
.

 

 

“Come on, we really must make a move.” Angelo's voice was soft but firm.

The reunion had been passionate, emotional, exhausting, and sexy as hell. Lena took a good long look around the chamber where the three of them had just made love.

“I know, I know,” she said as she sensed his unease in the doorway, glancing to where he could just see the sun setting. “It's just...you know, I've been here for so long. I just want to commit it to memory—leave it in a good place in my mind, not a bad one anymore.”

He kept silent, so she took that to mean than he understood. The chamber. The place where she had been punished over and over again by The Wasp who had just left with her assistant Cheryl. They were all free now. Free to go where they wished, as long as they stayed hidden from those who would return them to such a place.

Lena wondered if Angelo could understand how she'd grown fond of The Wasp—the one who administered her lashings and dominated her sexually. Lena had always sensed the yearning, the longing in the prickly, cold little woman and besides, they had explored the boundaries of sexuality together. Lena wouldn't forget the thrill she'd felt when The Wasp had allowed her to fuck her with the strap-on. The one Lena herself had just been fucked with by Mae and Angelo. The recent memory flooded her senses and her skin prickled with arousal again. Her body was aching in that sex-used way, and she relished the gentle winding in her pelvis where she'd been stretched and ravished .

“I mean it, Lena.” Angelo's voice was firm and it only added to her heightened sense of excitement. “We have to leave now. Please,” he said more softly as he touched her shoulder, pulling her around to face him.

He stooped to pick up her bundle of clothing and other bits and bobs she'd thrown together, and her heart bubbled at the sight of his manly frame bowing before her. She resisted the temptation to scrape her fingers into his hair and force his mouth onto her pussy. In honesty, she didn't think her body was capable of any more loving; it was her mind that seemed to be the problem right now. Mae was off in another room and they could hear her calling to them, urgency inflecting her tone.

“Lena, Angelo, come!”

As if she'd been slapped, Lena came to and adrenalin coursed through her. What the hell was she doing? They must leave now. Thank goodness her heroes had brought horses, there'd be plenty of time to clear the grounds before the new guard shift came on.

* * * *

They stopped dead at the threshold of the main entrance.

“Those bastards,” exclaimed Angelo, but there was a smile on his face.

Lena pushed past him to see Mae slump to her knees. “They took the damn horses!” she said, dragging items out of her bags and discarding them. “Well, there goes my life in riches. We can't possibly carry all this.”

Lena rifled through her own bags and hauled out some of the pretty things she'd taken when her eyes had been full of lust for such treasures. It seemed strange now to be so greedy for things not essential to their survival. They had no idea where they were headed. Who knew, they may have to camp in a forest somewhere. Lena shivered at the thought. She'd become too used to the opulence of The Wasp's boudoir and fine things. She pulled out a silver candlestick and matching silver hairbrush and mirror set.

“Ahem.” Angelo cocked an eyebrow and stood with his hand on his hip, mocking her frivolity.

“I know, I know, but look at them. They're gorgeous.”

Mae looked equally unimpressed as she threw down some heels and a jet encrusted corset.

“Wait,” said Lena, picking up the garment. “Can't we keep this?” Her mind was cast back to The Wasp, beautifully strapped in and tiny, wearing this very piece. Lena had even worn it on occasion and it had made her feel glorious.

“It's pretty heavy,” Angelo reasoned, and Lena had to admit it was true. They might have a long way to go and she didn't want her arms aching unnecessarily. Reluctantly, she placed the corset amongst the reject pile and sorted through the other things. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mae squirrel something away, something that didn't look very small either. A delicious tingle ran through her as she thought about what the item might be.

Stowing the things away as best they could under the one straggly bush in the courtyard, the trio were at last ready to leave.

“Shouldn't we let some of the other prisoners free, Angelo?”

Guilt crossed his face, but left as quickly as it came. “No,” he said determinedly. “We have no time. Come on.”

The three of them finally made it out of the heavy iron gates and approached the acres of moorland beyond.

“Okay.” Mae stepped forward, placing her hands on her hips, and Lena admired her rounded bottom through the draped finery. She was a woman who suited such garments. “Where to?”

The high from the actual escape began to ebb away, leaving Lena with a quiet, empty feeling. Where would they go? Gnawing doubt and fear for their future on the run began to weigh down on her, and she feared she had actually become institutionalized. Just as she was about to tell the others, something came toward them through the sunset orange sky. Lena squinted, her gaze following the erratic bat-like flight of the creature. Her heart skipped a little as she realized what it was. The clockwork butterfly she'd given The Wasp landed a little haphazardly on her upturned palm.

“Look,” she called to Mae and Angelo as she discovered the tiny note poked into the creature's belly.

“What does it say?” Angelo asked as he picked it out of Lena's grasp.

“Join us.” Lena said, and watched Angelo's eyes light up as he read the text too. “Do you think she's made it to them already?”

Lena could understand how desperate he must be to find one of his own—a real man to talk to, share feelings with—if that's what men did together. Lena had no idea what it would have been like with no other women around. She smiled at Mae who smiled back and took her hand, squeezing gently, her face full of excitement.

“I love having you both. I love that you're mine,” Mae said, and squeezed again.

They set off over the scrubby moor, right into the bleeding glare of the heavy, low sun.

It was hard going, and they soon became tired as the evening dew rose through their feet and clothing, adding weight to their already tired bodies.

“We're going to have to find somewhere to camp soon.” Angelo stopped and turned to scan the countryside for a place to stop.

The land had taken on an eerie glow as the last of the sun left them. Lena pulled her fur tighter around her shoulders and tried to wriggle some warmth into her sodden toes.

“What if they send out dogs to find us?” She started to panic. They hadn't even thought of that. They hadn't even seemed to have worried about a search party being sent.

God, they were so stupid—they should have left hours ago in the daylight when they had the chance. They'd been foolish. Yes, the reunion was amazing, but was it worth their freedom?

Lena's chest began to constrict with pain and fear and her breathing was ragged. “Angelo, what if they come?” she whispered through frantic breaths.

He gathered the two women to his chest.

“Well, if everything goes wrong and we get recaptured or die in the fight…” he began.

Lena shivered. She wasn't expecting to die just yet.

“I can honestly say, this day, this wonderful day, was worth it all.”

His body heat reached her easily through the layers of clothing, and Lena wiped her tears away on the fur at his chest.

“Now, come on, I think I can see a dip over there which might offer some shelter, just 'til the sun comes up a little.”

The group huddled down together in the little divot of land, spreading out their belongings beneath them to get some respite from the cold, wet ground. Angelo drew the women to him again and they listened to each other breathing until a light, dream-fraught sleep washed over them.

 

 

Deborah couldn't believe what she was witnessing. From the mirrored glass balcony, she could see three people making love in a bedroom chamber below. One was Marcus, she was sure of it. Her skin prickled and tensed, sending electrifying currents over her flesh. She wanted to scream and shout and bang on the glass, but she had to hold on to her reserve with all her might.

Two women were astride a man tied to a bed by the wrists and ankles. One riding his groin, the other, his face. Their long hair fell about their backs as they both faced the wall, the woman behind reaching around and massaging the other's breasts. It was the strangest sensation. Deborah was seething so hard with jealousy that she could have torn her own teeth out in despair, but in the ultimate betrayal of her emotions, her pussy bucked and spasmed between her legs, aching to be touched.

Face flushed with anger and arousal, Deborah looked along the row of women standing at the glass, all viewing her lover being fucked by these two rich bitches as Katja would say. All of the women had the same lust-filled expressions on their otherwise vacant faces. A few had their hands up under their robes and rubbed themselves off slowly right there. Deborah was indignant, even though her pussy was crying out for attention. She tried to ignore it, but frustration was clouding her judgment. She could feel her confused emotions pushing out all rational thought. Maybe she should come. Clear her hormones and her head.

She looked back at the erotic scene. The two women looked gorgeous, writhing together on a prone male body, their faces shining as they humped and bucked and teased and fucked. Heat gathered and pulsed between Deborah's legs, and she opened them a little to allow her surging clit some air. It wouldn't take much, she thought as she squeezed her pussy walls together, just a quick rub through her clothing and she'd be able to shake off this lustful sex mist.

The two women were close. Eyes squeezed shut, breasts stout and erect. The woman behind had released one of the other woman's nipples so she could concentrate on her own. It was a horny sight to see her roll the peaking nub in her own fingers in rhythm with her pelvic thrusting. Deborah couldn't bear it any longer, she reached down and gathered her clothing at her groin and parted her thighs. She was wet. Soaking and slippery, and she wanted flesh on flesh. Curling a finger under the rumpled fabric, she found a way into her knickers and inhaled sharply as liquid seemed to pour from her. The digit slipped around frantically until it found her clit. Her body twitched at the touch, and her pussy felt gaping and empty. Going back to the rolls of clothing, she clenched around the bundle and humped in time with the sex show women below.

She thrust her ass forward hard and felt her orgasm build from deep within her pussy and then up to her clit. Time and space began to expand as the rising continued and she tried to remain tethered to the here and now. It was too hard. Her spirit broke free just as the first wave of climax crashed through her. She was in that space, the space of ultimate unity, and she called to Marcus who stood there right before her with his eyes closed.

“Marcus. Marcus. It's me, it's me,” she called frantically as her orgasm began to subside. She was almost away when he finally opened his eyes and stared in disbelief. “Look up, Marcus, I'm here!”

And with that, she snapped back into place back behind the glass and watched as the woman on Marcus's face wriggled off and he twisted his head this way and that, eyes searching up to where she stood watching. She put her palm up as in a wave, but let it fall as his eyes searched wildly, seeing nothing, registering no one.

Mirrored glass.

Deborah was dismayed, but took heart that she'd made contact and he'd understood. She was sure he knew that she was there at the farm. She kept watching as the women attended to themselves first, leaving him to soften, exposed and vulnerable on the bed. He looked the same, his body looked the same. But she could see he was different. He was a submissive. Just as she had turned to dominance, so he had become subservient to those he served.

Deborah was suddenly crying. Love and wonder filled her heart as the two customers untied him tenderly, finally making sure he was all right. He was. Her Marcus. And she would see him again soon. She had no doubt of that now. She was so looking forward to the moment where they could share their true selves once more—he dominant and she submissive, again at last.

It touched her beyond comprehension that they had both chosen opposite roles while they'd been apart.

Deborah let her dampened robes fall and made ready to go to him.

* * * *

“Do you think she's found him yet?” Lena asked into the cool, misty, night air. They had been trying their hardest to sleep, but nerves, cold, and dampness had seemed to infect them all. Lena was relieved to finally break the forced silence.

“I don't know.” Angelo sighed and pulled his arm a little tighter around her.

“But the note said, ‘join us', didn't it?” Mae spoke in a croaky, dry voice and twisted her neck back and forth until it cracked. “She must have got him already.”

“It was too quick.” Lena had been wondering about The Wasp for a while now. Even though their relationship had been fraught at times, she felt something for the woman. “They would have barely made it to the horizon by the time the butterfly came back.”

Mae giggled. “You don't ever get to a horizon, Lena.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She tutted and wriggled as close to Angelo as she could, pulling the furs and robes tighter as she shivered.

“She was probably talking about the other woman they were with,” Mae suggested.

“No, I don't think so. Cheryl was desperate to break free. I think she hated her in the end.” But Lena wasn't quite sure just how true that was. Yes, Cheryl had been The Wasp's servant for many years and had latterly displayed a real hatred for the woman. But those last few hours the three of them had spent making love in The Wasp's chamber got Lena thinking a deep fondness had grown somewhere within them. “I think she wanted to make her own way out here. Find her own family. She'd been under the rule of the prison and The Wasp for so long, I think she just wanted away.”

“Good luck to her,” said Mae in her flippant tone, and Lena could just see her dip her head into Angelo's shoulder and close her eyes. “I need to sleep.”

They all settled again, but Lena still wondered through her fitful, terror-laden dreams.

* * * *

The shaking had now taken over Deborah's entire body as she stood in the shadows outside the pleasure chamber. Fate again had seemed to be on her side and she'd simply marched past any guards, holding up her bracelet. It had been terrifying and exhilarating, and as long as she never looked back and gave herself away by not appearing absolutely entitled to be there, she was okay. So far so good. So very good.

The muffled sounds of people making ready to leave made a squeal rise in Deborah's chest. She ducked further into the darkness, straining to become as small and inconspicuous as she possibly could, silently grateful at last for her tiny frame.

“'Til next time then,” one of the females said, lust still heavy in her voice as she pushed through the door and out into the hallway.

Deborah held her hands to her mouth, trying to catch any breath or noise that might escape and betray her. For a second, her heart stopped as the woman turned her head. In slow motion, Deborah caught her gaze as she seemed to peer into where she hid. But her head kept moving and she broke into a smile as her friend followed behind her.

As they breezed past, Deborah resisted the temptation to leap through the closing door to her lover. She would wait here, until he left for the evening. She hoped, oh how she hoped, that those were the last of his clients.

Lactic acid seared her calf muscles, and she was just about to risk shifting her weight around when a guard came to the chamber door. Static prickled around Deborah and she clutched her face even tighter, breathing hot damp breath into her hands.

The guard rapped the door briskly. “That's you, 832,” she said, and Deborah detected fondness in her tone, or was it lust?

Deborah wouldn't have been surprised; the place was steeped in sex musk and pheromones. The employees must be out of their head with arousal most of the time. The adrenalin rampaging through her cells was probably the only thing keeping her sane right now.

The guard continued, “That's all for you tonight. You've had a busy day, haven't you?”

Deborah fought the urge to scratch the woman's eyes out when she saw her pull the door open and smirk salaciously at what she saw beyond.

Tears welled and surged from her very heart as his presence appeared on the other side of the door. Her soul cried to his to look over—
I'm here
—as his familiar frame slowly pushed out into the hallway, just an arm's length away from where Deborah hid. It was him. Her love, her one love. The tears broke free and dripped over her cheeks and onto her hands which still held in the rest of her emotion. He was even more beautiful than she remembered. How could that be possible? Time had etched its sadness over his face, but it only served to make him more powerfully handsome. A face with experience. A face which had loved deeply—and searched longingly, for her.
I'm here
, she implored silently through blurred vision.
I'm here, turn around.

But he meekly followed the guard with his shoulders hunched and an almost shuffling gait. That was what hurt Deborah's heart most of all, seeing her mighty man walk like his spirit was broken. Well, no more. This would stop. He would be her upright lover again soon.

She watched intently to where they were headed and ventured out of the shadows when they'd turned a corner. Peeking her head around, she was just in time to see Marcus sniff the air and straighten up a little.

He smelled her. He felt her, she could tell. She wafted her robes around, throwing her scent his way, and waited until they turned another corner before making a move.

“Good night, 832,” the guard said officiously, and began to close the door. From her hiding place, Deborah saw Marcus's foot appear at the bottom of the threshold and bar the door from closing.

“Will it ever stop?” he asked the guard, and Deborah's heart broke for him.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” the guard snapped, exposing her fear of the large male. “You're the most respected and highly paid server in the farm.”

“Whatever that means,” he growled.

The guard pulled back a little, pressing harder on the door to try and force it closed.

“What can I spend my earnings on? Day trips? Women?” he scoffed, and Deborah didn't like the tone. Marcus wasn't like that. It looked like the guard was also surprised.

“Come on now, this isn't like you,” she soothed while still trying to squeeze the barrier shut. “You're just tired. Why don't you go and relax for a while?”

“Yeah, maybe you're right,” he softened, and the very hallway seemed to exhale in relief. “Sorry. I think I am just tired, you know?”

“Yes, I understand.”

His foot retreated slightly and the guard was merely peeking through a chink now.

“I'll maybe put in a well-being rest request for tomorrow if you like.”

Deborah tensed every fiber in her body and soul, willing him to accept the offer.

“Yes. Yes, thank you,” he said, and the door finally closed on his words. “Good night.”