Pam-Ann

by Lindsey Brooks

  “M… Master,” Persephone, who was not really Persephone at all, dropped to her knees in the doorway.

  “No need to kneel when you have a message,” Rafael said, rolling his eyes at Pam. “What is it?”

  The girl jumped to her feet and bowed. “D… Daisy sent me, Master. The… the other Master is waiting downstairs.”

  “Okay, we’ll be there soon.” He watched her run from his presence. “Are you sure she’s getting more confident?”

  “Definitely, but it’s going to take time. I don’t think she had ever said a word to her Master in the place she came from.”

  “I still see the Persephone we both thought we knew when I look at her,” Rafael said, opening his wardrobe. “I wonder sometimes where she went and what happened to her.” He shrugged. “But not often. I’m more interested in what happened to the real Persephone, the one who must have ended up in that little monster’s world over four years ago.”

  “I guess we’ll never know that,” Pam replied. “I wonder why it took her and not me.”

  “I’m just glad that’s how it happened, sweetheart.”

  “I have an idea about it. It’s only a theory, or more of a feeling really.”

  He gave her a questioning look.

  “I think maybe the door only opens for certain people at certain times, when the world they’re in and the world they should be in are linked.” Pam gave a self-conscious laugh. “I know. It sounds fanciful even to me. I said it was only a feeling, probably a crazy one.”

  “Maybe not. You think it somehow tunes in to those who should be somewhere else and transports them there, the way it brought you here?”

  “I… I guess I do,” she agreed, and he understood that she was making a confession about herself at the same time.

  “Then it took the original Persephone to a world that suited her better but made a mistake with the one it brought here in her place. One it returned to put right. And it didn’t take you because…?”

  “I belong here,” Pam said.

  “Here with me, sweetheart,” he corrected, “and that isn’t a theory. It’s a fact.” He began putting on his pants.

  Pam giggled. “Oh, Rafael!”

  He looked up. “What?”

  “You’re one of the men who gave the world the zipper, and you’ve got buttons on your trousers.”

  *

  “Are you ever going to learn to behave yourself?” Drago asked.

  “I don’t know, my lord,” Mala replied.

  He barked a laugh. “At least you’re honest. You’ve become a saucy little thing since I caught you wearing those strange clothes on the flight back from New York.”

  Mala suppressed the urge for her lips to turn up at the corners and lowered her head.

  “No, look at me.” Drago pressed the tip of his stiff, tightly braided buffalo-hide whip under her chin.

  She lifted her head and met his eyes, arching her back to push her small, pointed breasts out, as he would expect. His dark gaze held hers and her belly flipped. It was eerie how they all looked so like the ones she knew and yet were so completely different.

  “Strip,” Drago said, and Mala loosed the thong around her hips and let the scrap of soft leather over her sex fall to the packed sand of the punishment ring. She briefly eyed the score of concubines and slave girls kneeling facing the whipping post and then looked again into Drago’s dark and so familiar eyes.

  “Thirty,” he pronounced, and smiled thinly at the narrowing of her eyes. Her gut clenched. She had not expected so many. “All right, saucy, twenty-five then. But I want to see you on duty in the bath house first thing tomorrow.”

  A thrill of satisfaction joined the fear that was making Mala’s belly flutter and her chest tight. He wanted her. It was the first step. In this world she could only ever be a slave, but she was determined to be Drago’s favourite slave. The thrill reached lower as the whip’s end smoothed up the inside of one slender thigh. Drago laughed softly as he saw the swollen pearl of her clit standing proud of all concealment at the apex of her sex. Mala’s pussy quivered.

  “Go,” he ordered.

  She turned, suppressed the shaking in her legs and forced herself to walk with measured steps to the whipping post. The tall, broad-shouldered woman standing beside it met her eye and smiled as she stepped onto the low platform on which the post stood. Mala had spent half the previous night with her fingers and tongue sunk deep between the harem mistress’s thighs. The memory of it increased the tremors in her sex as the woman ran the rope in the ring at the top of the post through the leather cuffs on Mala’s wrists. She was called Anya here, but everything else about her was identical to the person Mala had known before, even the way her heavy breasts swayed as she hauled on the rope until the slim girl’s arms were stretched high and she was teetering on her toes with the hard wood of the post pressing between her stiff-nippled tits. Anxiety deepening, she glanced back at the faces of the watching girls and at Drago, stripped to the waist and gripping the tough, inflexible length of the leather between his big hands.

  The butt-plug came next, inserted dry as it always was for punishments, stinging and burning its way through the tender tissues of Mala’s tight rear entrance. The clamps hurt even more, screwed tight until they were biting deep into the delicate softness of her outer labia. She hissed and tried not to wriggle as Anya fed cords through the rings on the clamps and tied them off on the far side of the post, stretching her flesh wickedly even though she jammed her belly hard against the smooth, sweat-stained wood.

  “There, lover,” the overseer said. “Mind you keep as still as you can. I don’t want to see your sweet little pussy torn up as well as your bum.”

  It was uncanny. Even her voice and the expressions she used were the same.

  The clouds drifted clear of the sun and Mala felt its warmth bathe her shoulders and the upper curves of her buttocks. A fly buzzed past, loud in the menacing silence. She fought to slow her rapid breaths and felt the sweat trickling down her naked body. Her shoulders and calves were already aching. Her belly felt tight but was twitching wildly and her heart hammered beneath her ribs. Little, tickling contractions teased the length of her sheath as she heard Drago’s heavy tread coming nearer. Pressed hard against the post, her clitoris tingled.

  Mala, once ordinary Kathy Martin and then wealthy Persephone Peake, trembled. Everything she had been so afraid would happen had happened. Everything she had tried to escape by seeking out the blackness had only befallen her more quickly because she had found it. And it was all far more exciting and wonderful than she could ever have imagined. She loved it.

  Drago’s footfalls stopped. She sensed him close behind her, sensed him raise his arm. Her gut churned and her sex tickled madly. The whip whistled as it cut the air. A savage streak of torment blazed across her buttocks. The fiery impact drove Mala against the post, forcing her pulsing bud hard into the unyielding wood. Head spinning, she screamed and climaxed.

  *

  Todd chewed his lower lip and eyed the girl warily. Things were not going as he had planned. They were going far better. He just wished he understood why.

  Nothing had felt right since they had passed through that black thing. Or had it passed through them? He might never recover from the shock the experience had caused him. Pamela’s behaviour since had been almost as alarming. How she had changed her clothes when all the while he had had his arm around her he did not even want to think about. When she had started removing those same, strange-looking garments the moment things seemed to be getting back to normal, he had known at once that not everyone had come through the eerie encounter unscathed. Pamela Weston was one of the most uptight, sexually frustrated, control freaks he had met in a long time, yet the minute he had got her back into the passenger cabin she had stripped to her bare skin and offered herself to him. He had expected a fight, and to have to physically subdue her. Instead, without a single word of protest, she had put her hands behind her back so he could fasten her
wrists into leather cuffs and then lay down on the floor so he could do the same to her ankles.

  She was looking at him with a hunger that would have been unmistakable to any red-blooded, heterosexual male. Her pupils were dilated, her breathing was fast and shallow, and the ripe odour of her arousal was making Todd’s nostrils twitch. The scent and sight and appealing helplessness of her nude body had given him a raging hard-on.

  “Will I be whipped soon, Master?” Pamela asked, the first coherent words she had spoken since before the darkness had engulfed the plane.

  “God no!” Todd said. “No one’s going to beat you as long as you do as you’re told.”

  “But I stowed away. I have to be whipped and… and made a slave. It’s the law.”

  “What?” Swamped by sudden guilt and unnerved by the pleading expression on her face, he looked away. She had to be crazy. Her fear of that blackness must have been too much for her. “I’m sorry,” Todd said, “but I couldn’t let you reach New York. When the truth came out, my career would have been over and my livelihood too. I couldn’t let you do that to me, Pamela.”

  “My name is Ann, Master,” the girl said, wriggling a little while rubbing her thighs together as much as her ankle cuffs allowed, “though I guess you can change that any time you want to.” She seemed more excited than dismayed by her realisation. “I will be used soon, won’t I? I’m sure I should be whipped too, Master.”

  “Master? What the hell is wrong with you, and why do you keep talking about whipping?” Todd demanded. He looked over his shoulder as the cockpit door opened and Corrigan came down the passageway towards them.

  “No more sign of that black thing. Jesus, it nearly scared the life out of me! We’ll land at Charlotte in an hour and a half. We won’t have any trouble getting clearance for Mexico City, and the buyer will have people standing by to meet us as soon as we touch down.” The co-pilot looked at the girl’s quivering body and raised an eyebrow when she gave a little, gasping moan. “There’s a well-padded crate in the cargo bay all ready for her. You’ll need to make sure she’s securely gagged and inside before we’re on the ground.” He leaned closer. “Hell, she stinks of wet pussy! And why is she shaking?”

  “I….” Todd swallowed with difficulty, grimacing as he looked up at his fellow conspirator.

  “I need to be fucked, Master,” the girl said breathlessly.

  A broad grin split Corrigan’s face. “Then you’re in the right place.” He reached for his belt buckle.

  *

  “You’re a good friend, Rafael Drake, and a good man, too. Don’t you ever forget it.” Alex Riley chuckled softly to himself as he sank down onto the bed, and then slumped sideways as Rafael withdrew his supporting arm from around his shoulders. He rolled onto his back, smiling benevolently up into Rafael’s face.

  The slave girl, Sue, began loosening his shirt while the Zulu girl unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper. Riley reached out and stroked the fat nipple at the peak of one of the brown-skinned girl’s big breasts, then let his hand flop to the mattress.

  “I’ve drunk too much,” he said, slurring the words. “I can’t remember the last time I did that.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Though Alex was too far gone to see it, Rafael gave him an affectionate smile. “You’re entitled to celebrate a little.”

  Riley chuckled again. “Yeah, we’re rich men now. Money doesn’t make you happy but it sure makes being miserable a lot more comfortable. But you know what makes you happy, my friend.”

  “What’s that?”

  As Sue eased one of his arms out of his shirt Riley beamed at her in pleasure. “You’re beautiful,” he said, blinked and looked fuzzily at Rafael. “The girl, of course. The one we spent all those hours talking about. You’ve found her, Rafael. You’ve found your perfect girl.”

  “Oh, I know, Alex! Believe me, I know.” With a surge of emotion rising in his chest he left Riley in the gentle hands of his slave girls and hurried from the room.

  *

  A single lamp burned in the lounge. Its bulb cast a glowing circle of light across the sofa and the patch of floor where Pam knelt silently waiting. She felt almost as bewildered as she had during her first moments on the airship, and almost as afraid. First Rafael had flogged her at her own request, then locked the necklace around her throat instead of a collar, and at dinner he had made her sit at the table and eat in the conventional way, while Riley’s slaves knelt on the floor and Daisy and Persephone did the serving. What did it mean? Was he trying to tell her something in some cryptic, obscure way? Because if he was, it was not working, and she dearly wished he would just come straight out and tell her what he expected from her. Pam sucked in a long breath and summoned her resolve. This time she would not be distracted, diverted or deterred. This time she would have her answer. Her belly fluttered as he entered the room.

  “Alex is a happy drunk. His girls have put him to bed.”

  “He drank a lot more than you did,” Pam said, delaying the moment while she gathered her determination. Her pulse quickened as Rafael took her hand in his and drew her to her feet, her movements heightening the buzzing of the welts he had imprinted on her skin earlier.

  “He works a lot harder than I do. He should relax more. Besides, I have plans that include keeping a clear head.” His lazy smile made Pam’s heart skip and the reddened skin on her right breast flared as his hand cupped its resilient flesh.

  “Wait,” she said. “We have to….” His lips pressing softly onto hers silenced her protest.

  “I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he said.

  The apology startled her. “It’s okay. It… it’s only been a few minutes.”

  Rafael shook his head. “It’s been far longer than that. It’s been too long. But tomorrow we’ll put that right. We’ll go into town and I’ll fill out the papers to give you your freedom.”

  “Freedom?” Pam’s gut lurched at the thought of being without Rafael. “But I… I love you. W… what am I supposed to do if you make me free?”

  He raised the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Well, I hoped you might consider becoming my wife. I love you too, so I thought….”

  Pam flinging herself into his arms cut him off. He fell backwards onto the sofa, laughing and pulling her down with him. Exultant but speechless, she clung to Rafael for long minutes until he loosened the grip of one of the arms he had wrapped around her. The hand that slowly explored her buttocks heightened their smart and throb and provoked a renewed tickle of excitement between her thighs. Pam made a noise between a moan and a whimper and wriggled her belly against Rafael’s. Without waiting to be told, she unbuttoned his shirt and trousers and curled her fingers around his hard cock. When Pam would have lowered her mouth to it he stopped her with a finger beneath her chin and drew her face close to his. Dark eyes smouldering with desire looked deep into hers.

  “You didn’t answer me. What do you say, Pam? Will you be my wife?”

  “Of course I will. Yes. Oh, yes please!” She lowered her gaze from his. “If… if you’re really sure.”

  Again he lifted her chin until they were face to face. “I was sure the moment I knew I loved you, sweetheart. It just took me a little time to find the courage to admit it to myself. You’re going to be mine, and only mine. But you’re going to do it as a Freewoman, not a slave”

  Warmth filled Pam’s heart, and the prickle of tears joined the other, very different prickle that was teasing her moistly trembling pussy. A thought struck her. “Oh, being your wife, that doesn’t mean…?” Heat rushed to her cheeks but she made herself continue meeting Rafael’s eye and saw him lift one eyebrow in an unspoken question. “I will still be punished, won’t I? Whenever you think I deserve it.”

  He laughed softly and hugged her tighter. The welts on Pam’s skin throbbed and the thrum of arousal filled her mind and sex.

  “Well, I can’t speak as a husband just yet, but I’m sure there are plenty of times when a wife can be jus
t as naughty as any slave girl, and she had better be ready to take the consequences when she is.”

  Pam giggled. “Oh, she will be! She’ll always be ready for that.”

  “Then she only has to tell me she has misbehaved and I’ll see she gets everything she deserves.” Rafael’s laugh was rich and throaty. “Sweetheart, I knew when I finally chose my slave girl she would be something very special, but I never thought I would find anyone so special I would want her to be my wife. Then you came along and changed everything.”

  Through the surge of joy that filled her, the thought that so often niggled at the back of Pam’s mind arose once more.

  “Y… you don’t still despise me, do you? Because I’m That Kind?” She felt the rumble of his laughter through their touching bodies.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I’ve never despised you. You’re not That Kind. You’re one of a kind. And most important, you’re my kind. Mine and only mine! That’s how it is and that’s how it’s going to stay.” He kissed Pam and her fear vanished.

  Only his love for her remained, and hers for him. That would always be there.

  The End