The Slave (53 page)

I don’t care if I don’t have an
orgasm
, she
thought, thinking of how wonderful it would feel to lie back and
spread her legs like that again.
I rarely come when I’m fisted anyway. Oh
Judy’s got nice, small hands―I wonder if she likes to
fist?

But Judy had opened a cabinet and withdrawn
a big bundle of blue rope, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Well
, Robin thought,
getting tied up is nice,
too.

Judy unraveled her rope, and
made a simple knotted loop and tossed it over R
obin’s shoulders. Working
quickly, she wrapped the ends around her body, crossing them over
Robin’s collarbone, and then under her breasts. It seemed all too
fast at first―there was a line going down Robin’s spine, and every
once in a while, Judy would move her around and pull the strands of
rope past one point or another. Before long, the blue lines seemed
to divide Robin’s body up into little diamonds. Rope passed between
her legs, and Judy grinned for a second as Robin tensed, but then
Robin felt her slender fingers pulling the rope apart so that it
ran along the insides of her thighs, around her sex instead of up
and through it. She sighed even as Judy chuckled.

Slowly, Robin was being dressed
in rope―like a form-fitting garment that drew her body up tight.
But no part of her was actually bound to something else―it was more
like being wrapped up somehow. Khim lit some candles and watched in
appreciation while Judy worked. I
sn’t it interesting that they both do rope
work so well
, Robin thought.

But―this was not something
Marketplace owners were known for, she remembered, thinking of the
mysterious way they seemed to know how she was trained. In fact,
owners were less likely to get extravagant unless they had a
particular fetish―she had been warned about that and had ample
opportunity to witness it as well. Being freed from having to cater
to the fetish desires of the slaves―other than that overwhelming
need to serve in an ordered and safe way―owners
didn’
t have
to set up elaborate scenes if they didn’t feel like it. Decorative
bondage had not been of interest to any of her owners, although
Monica did like to tie Robin to the bed from time to
time.

In a way
, Robin thought, as Judy wound
rope in more intricate patterns down her arms,
this is sort of like serving
Monica at my old place in California!

How strange.

“
Very pretty,” Khim said. She was now
sitting on the table, her legs swinging.

Robin looked down at herself―she was covered
in criss-crossing rope, all blue, marking her pale skin into
patterns. She shivered in appreciation and said, “Thank you, ma’am!
It’s beautiful!”

“
I need to see it better,” Khim said. She
pointed to the clear space at the base of the table. “Go there and
show yourself.”

Robin froze once more. There it was again!
Yes, it could have been just a coincidental phrasing―but “show
yourself” was a standard instruction for Marketplace slaves!

So, were they owners or not? Robin shook
slightly, afraid of either possibility. If they were, then she was
being hesitant, or downright disobedient. If they were not, she
dared not show them the formal series of poses taught to her as
ways to display her body before a potential buyer.

“
I―I don’t understand what you mean,
ma’am,” she finally managed to say. “I beg your forgiveness, but
please explain...”

Judy laughed suddenly, and Khim grinned
too. “Never mind that,” the taller woman said in a commanding
voice. “You know what we mean. Do as I said.”

Robin couldn’t help it. Her
body moved, despite the warning bells going off in her
mind
. They
must be owners
, she thought desperately, even as she crossed her wrists
behind her head, showing off her tightly bound body.
They have to be.
Oh, please, let them be.
The barest of nods, and she turned, the hardest
part, bending over like that... She could feel the ropes tightening
around her hips, loosening around her waist, stretching up her
calves and thighs. As her ass cheeks parted slightly, her bare
pubis seemed tightly framed by the ropes alongside of it, the ring
hanging free of her for an instant.

Then, slowly, she rose and then turned once
more, dropping gently to her knees and feeling the rope harness
tighten in new places. Gracefully, she brought her hands down, and
then crossed her wrists behind her back, feeling the layers of rope
keeping her from tucking them up next to her the way she should
have.

“
Oh that was nice!” Judy
exclaimed.

“
Yeah,” Khim agreed. “Come over here,
Robin, let’s get to know you better.”

Robin rose and followed her instructions,
and soon found herself on the table, on her back, her arms and legs
tied down with red ropes, all along the sides. Judy ran the ropes
up and down and in and out while Khim moved a basket of something
to the table and brought candles closer. Before Judy had even
finished, Khim was pulling long, colorful clamps out of the
basket.

Each clamp had a tight, narrow grip, and
Khim put one into every diamond shape the ropes left on Robin’s
body. She worked fast, with a cheerful assurance, seemingly
ignoring Robin’s gasps and hisses as each one went on. Some were
nice―she liked the grip on the inside of her arms. Others were
erotic―her nipples were already hard before Khim got to them, and
the clamps made them ache delightfully. But some just hurt. The
ones over her collarbone seemed agonizing, and if she twitched just
slightly in her bondage, their shaking made her gasp.

Judy finished tying off the last few
inches of Robin’s body and grabbed a handful of clamps herself and
also went to work. Before long, Robin was covered in these clamps,
many more than Monica liked to put on her (more than Monica owned,
in fact!) and in places she had never been clamped before. She
shivered again, and set them all dancing, which made her two
tormentors laugh.

“
We’ll warm you up,” Khim said,
picking up a candle. “Don’t you worry!”

Very carefully, wax covered just the tips of
the clamps. From two sides of the table, the women worked on her,
and every time the sensations shifted, Robin struggled, unable to
keep still. But of course, there was nowhere to go! The body
harness was tied down tight, and every time she stretched or
curled, it tightened all over her, giving her wonderful freedom to
squirm and pay the consequences.

Each dribble of wax from the candles
awakened the nerves pressed at the base of each clamp, and then
spread out. The little glowing points were like bites―tiny, hot
bites, everywhere from her shoulders down to the balls of her feet.
Different colored candles made little splashes of color in between
the ropes, covering her small breasts. The line of clamps in
between and on top of her thighs were repeated targets because the
skin there seemed extra sensitive and made her twitch and
shudder.

She felt her arousal grow, that steady
progression that started high and spiraled up from there. It was so
wonderful to bottom to two women! Oh, what a dream of hers this had
been, and how wonderful the reality was! It was one thing to bottom
to Monica and her friend of the moment, always fun and sometimes
surprising. But two women who knew each other so well―two women who
had planned this, not one women who was leading while another
watched or followed... Oh, it was heaven!

How could she have doubted Monica? How could
she have worried about this?

“
I think she hates this,” Judy said
suddenly. Robin’s eyes flew open in panic, and she heard the two
women laugh. She blushed, deeply. How could she have been so
sloppy?

“
Oh no, no, please, I am so sorry,
ma’am, I love it, thank you, thank you so much!” Robin said. Oh,
how Chris would have laid into her for that! Had she gotten lazy
all of a sudden?

“
That’s better,” Khim said,
judiciously adding a dollop of wax on top of one nipple. Robin
hissed. “Wouldn’t want to think that you were just enduring this
for our pleasure now.”

“
Oh, speak for yourself,” Judy said.
She tipped a bit of wax from a black candle onto an area of
uncovered skin on Robin’s thigh. “I like it when they’re doing it
for me.”

“
OK,” Khim said easily. “Suffer for
her then, and enjoy it for me. Are the instructions
clear?”

Robin couldn’t help but giggle. “Yes, ma’am,
thank you, ma’am!”

“
Good―good girl.”

Robin flushed again, this time in
pleasure. She couldn’t help it―being praised always made her like
this. And now that she knew that they enjoyed her reactions as much
as Monica did, she let go a little more, fighting back the years
she had spent with two masters who wanted her to keep as still and
silent as possible whenever she was in pain.

When they were either bored or finished
with the wax, they played with the clamps―shaking or twisting them,
and then finally starting to pry them off. As most of them came
off, there was only a sharp stab of the reawakened nerve, but a few
actually made her yelp. Bits of wax cracked and sometimes peeled
off, and in between the ropes, Robin’s body felt warm and glowing,
with star-like points of pain that made her purr.

Judy ended up touching the ring first, and
Robin couldn’t help it; she jumped, her body held down in the
topes, but obviously in greater discomfort than either the clamps
or the wax had caused. Judy smoothed her cool hand down Robin’s
belly, making soothing sounds. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We know
it’s still healing. It’ll be OK. I won’t touch it again.”

And without warning, Robin’s eyes started
to tear again. It had all been so perfect! She had been having such
a good time, and these women had turned out to be so wonderful! Her
fears about inappropriate behavior, about not getting along, about
unrealistic expectations, had all vanished under their expert
hands, and now this damn ring had to make her react like a novice!
And to hear the genuine concern and the patient reassurance that
she would be taken care of was just too much.

“
What’s wrong?” Khim asked, leaning
over.

Robin didn’t want to answer―she just wanted
the entire moment to vanish away like it never happened. She
struggled to keep herself still, to fight back the tears, but the
same bondage that made her feel so eroticized also kept her from
wiping them away, and they trickled down the sides of her face.
“I’m―I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, trying to keep her voice level.
“Please, there’s nothing wrong. It’s just a little tender―nothing
really! Please don’t stop, please!”

“
Well―I hear that,” Khim said with
satisfaction. “We were about to move on anyway. Pass me something
sexy, Judy!”

Robin saw a silvery glint above her, and
then Khim showed her the curved, wicked little knife. “You want to
keep very still,” she said softly. “You don’t want me to
slip.”

“
No, ma’am,” Robin whispered. She even
smiled―it had been years since someone played with knives around
her. She had liked them then―she liked this even better.

The last time she had been menaced with a
knife in SM play, it had been one of her aborted attempts at
dating. A male top had suggested that they roleplay a rape scene,
and she had been very eager. It was something she could not have
done with her previous top, Maria, who didn’t like any scene that
suggested real force. But one of Robin’s biggest secret turn-ons
was being ravished, preferably by more than one man, and she
definitely had fantasies of being pressed down and violated. So,
this friendly, slightly overweight man set up the scenario and
“raped” her at knifepoint in his apartment, after dinner. The
set-up was fine, and the start was as much of a turn-on as she
always anticipated it could be. But it turned out that among other
things, he wanted her to suddenly switch gears from fighting him,
screaming and begging for it to end, to then enjoying it and asking
for more.

The first “Beg me for it, bitch,” was
hot.

The second one was just... silly. He had
dropped the knife and was busy trying to get the right angle to
fuck her. He was so engaged that if she had been still pretending
to struggle, she could have quite accidentally kicked him right in
the balls. She decided that such a level of verisimilitude wasn’t
on his agenda. Sadly though, she felt no sense of danger, not even
pretend danger, so when he growled the command for her to beg for
his big dick, it was almost tempting to ask, “Why?” Instead, she
did her best to enjoy the fuck and then lost his phone number.

But there was no implicit threat of force
here―she was already quite helpless. No, this was the eroticism of
the blade, the sensuous thrill of the steel touching her skin and
pressing, feeling it glide underneath the edges of the layers of
wax, a bizarre skinning effect that made her relax instead of tense
up.

The tears stopped almost at once, and she
breathed gently as Khim worked. How nice it was to say that she was
all right and be taken at her word! How nice to just go along, keep
going―for their pleasure as well as hers. She sighed luxuriously
and when Khim was shaking the wax off her fingers, she stretched,
just a little, to feel the continued constriction of the
bondage.

“
Yes, that’s it,” Khim crooned. “Isn’t
that nice?”