Lena's Fall: Volumes Eight through Fifteen of Lena’s Journey

by Alex Carlsbad

  “Yes Master,” I whisper through pursed lips.

  “Does my sweet girl want her reward for holding her position in spite of the humiliation and pain?”

  "Yes, Master," I reply without conviction exhausted from suffering and crying.

  "Close your eyes then but don't move."

  "Yes, Master."

  He feels so very big and powerful even though I can’t see him. My eyes are squeezed shut. Then I feel his breath between my legs, the sensation disconcerting on my sensitive skin, and my eyes shoot wide-open.

  Then he kisses me there.

  My nails dig into the skin on my ankles and I whimper as his fingers spread me wide and he darts his tongue in to lick me.

  “Oh. My. Gawwwd!" He laves me with his tongue from the base of my slit all the way to my clit. I feel the fine detail of the texture of his tongue and I bite down on my bottom lip sucking loudly in a hopeless effort to stifle my shameful moans. My head falls against the backrest as my master starts to feast on me, loud licking sounds echo throughout the room, his fingers splay me ever wider as I feel my body freeze beneath his attentions, and then melt. My knees shiver and tremble and I feel my orgasm building faster than ever. "Dear God! Oh!” My back arches and my body trembles as waves of roiling ecstasy crash and propel me through a mind bending orgasm.

  Slowly I start flittering back down to earth and realize he is carefully peppering my pussy with gentle little kisses all along its chastised length. I open my eyes and give him a lazy smile. Why the hell am I smiling, I wonder somewhere deep down but ignore that inner voice of sanity as I catch the playful bemusement in my master’s eyes.

  “My beautiful slave,” he says and I glow in his pride. I am honored to be his slave, and now more than ever I will do anything and everything he wants. “You taste delicious.”

  “Thank you, Master.” I swoon in his approving stare.

  "Uh-hum," Mr. Henry clears his throat and breaks the spell.

  ***

  Master:

  Mr. Henry steps forward and immediately my beautiful Lena starts closing her legs. "Keep them open,” I whisper afraid that if I spoke out loud, I might shatter the magic of the moment. Without so much as a whimper Lena relaxes her thighs and opens her flower to our hungry eyes. Her pleading look is more than I can bear and I turn around.

  "Do you mind, brother Branigan?" The formal way in which Henry addresses me helps a little in solidifying my resolve but I still cannot bear to look on as my angel, my concubine, my slave is about to be touched by another man.

  "Do what you must, brother Henry." I step away hoping that the distance will mollify my desire to reach and grab the man and break him in two like a reed for even chancing a glance, let alone a touch upon my Lena. I reach for my glass and down it. Just in time too, for I hear Lena's breath escape in an agonized gasp and I know where Mr. Henry's fingers are. God help me!

  "Luscious and plump," the man's analytical voice comes at my nerves feeling like nails on a chalkboard. “If the outward appearance of her pudenda is anything to go by, brother, the girl is pure woman. She is brimming with health, and if you ever desired it, could bear you many a child."

  I feel my knees go weak and so I take a seat hoping that Lena doesn't see enough of me to gauge my torment and weakness as I listen on.

  "M-master why are you… Why is he touching me… Like that?" Lena stammers.

  I clear my throat but mercifully Mr. Henry interjects, "I have been sent here as an emissary of your master’s overlord in the Society. I have to ascertain your virginity, health and general attitude before I place you in a chastity device, sweet slave."

  "Oh…" Her voice is barely a whisper now.

  “If it makes it easier, child, think of it as merely a formality. My seal upon the lock of your belt will vouch that you are healthy, sane and willing when the day comes. Do you understand, darling?" I look over at the girl and see her panicky eyes glean a measure of calmness and she nods. My good little slave. "Good girl," Mr. Henry says soothingly and I see him tenderly caress her lower tummy and I barely resist an overwhelming urge to rip his hand clean off his body. “You are beautiful. Such proportions."

  "Thank you," Lena timidly replies looking at me. Her eyes are moist but I can see her trying to steel herself and be strong.

  "Just saying it like I see it, dear girl. Your inner lips are somewhat larger than average, begging to be sucked," the old lecher says and actually licks his mouth. The nerve! I realize I am sitting on the edge of my seat and force myself to sit back and feign a pose of relaxed insouciance.

  "I-T-thank you," Lena says clearly at a loss. Mr. Henry turns to look at me and winks playfully.

  "I'm sure I'm not telling you anything you don't already know yourself, my friend, but she will be dynamite in the sack once you bed her."

  I don't know what to tell him. I nod dumbly and finally he turns away to resume his odious inspection. I'm counting the seconds for it to be over. "Well….almost done. One last thing to check, and we can zip it up." Lena whimpers, and suddenly cries out, and I know he has splayed her open with his fingers. I can see him looking straight down into her moist velvety center. "No need to touch and prod any further” he announces. “The girl is an untouched virgin, pure as midnight snow." Finally, the man stands. "You can let go of your ankles sweetheart and stand for me now please." I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding.

  Her lips move and she whispers something.

  "What, sweetheart?" We both say almost simultaneously looking anxiously of the girl that has so clearly bewitched us both.

  "How long?" A faint smile blossoms across her beautiful lips. "How long I have to wear the belt?" Her voice grows a measure more resolute and…Playful? Suddenly the tension is gone from the room and just like that, all three of us – the Masters and the slave break out in cheery laughter. I even wag my finger at her and she bats her eyelashes playfully at me. I give silent prayer of gratitude to Providence that she is already in a chastity belt or I would jump her right now and make a woman out of the blushing beauty.

  “Ten days almost to the hour, my slut," I chuckle. And she giggles out loud.

  “How are you going to express your gratitude?”

  “My gratitude?” She stammers.

  “Yes, slave – Mr. Henry came all the way from Canada, as I explained to you. He traveled all this distance so he can put your slutty little quim behind bars and vouch for your chastity. Aren't you grateful for that?”

  “Yes, I – I suppose…”

  “I suppose I should have you thrashed again just for your tone of voice. But I’m in a charitable mood. I want you to suggest a proper way for expressing how much you appreciate him making the trip.”

  “Yes, Master,” Lena lowers her gaze to the floor. “Thank you.”

  Just then a droplet of precious whiteness materializes across her left nipple and slowly, delectably dribbles to the ground. All three of us stare at the milky spot by Lena's bare feet. Mr. Henry licks his lips and so do I.

  “I… I could, I could allow him to drink from – from me,” she stammers innocently again. I could clearly see how red her face has suddenly become. She is burning up.

  “It is not your place to allow or disallow anything. I own your body. It strikes me as insolent that you would even think you have the power to make such a choice. If I felt like it was appropriate, I would be the one allowing it, not you,” I tell her, my voice suddenly stern and sounding more forceful than I meant.

  “I am sorry, Master,” she looks down and folds her hands above her crotch, her shoulders hunched in a pose of genuine remorse. She seems to be on the verge of tears.

  “Your output of milk, at least for now, is only for your master to enjoy. Suggest something else.”

  “I could, with your permission, suck Mr. Henry off?” She looks tentatively at me through the waterfall of brown hair that has fallen in a curtain across her face.

  “This is also something I am reluctant to share with a
nyone as of yet,” I growl. “I hope brother Henry understands.”

  “Absolutely, I do,” he chuckles and politely bows in my direction indicating that he could empathize with my possessiveness. I am impressed at what a good match he is for the delicate job the society has sent him to do. “But I think if Dr. Branigan doesn't mind, I have a suggestion of my own,” he offers.

  “Go ahead, brother Henry.”

  “How about your delicious little slave virgin dances for us?”

  “Excellent suggestion,” I smile broadly.

  “But first, let me do this.”

  Lena gasps. With quick deft movements the emissary reached out and placed a triangular-shaped chain mesh over her beauty lips and mound securing it with two fine silver chains to the chain around her waist. There was a loud click as he locked everything in place and then using a pill of lead squeezed a wire around the junctures thus effectively sealing the device in place.

  “This will prevent any untimely attentions from your master as well as stop you from attempting to please yourself before the date.” Mr. Henry playfully slaps her butt and Lena cries out and I wince. Satisfied with himself he leans back in the couch. “When you pass solid wastes, you need to hold the chain to the side of your anus.” His words made my innocent little slave swoon and for a moment I am seriously worried she might faint and drop to the floor.

  “Okey-dokey, now where was that whiskey? I'm about ready to see you dance, sweetheart.”

  ***

  Lena:

  The two men seated themselves and for a long beat I couldn't even move. I stood petrified. I was suddenly struck by the immense differences between us. They’re both old enough to be my father. Both of them were rich beyond belief, powerful and fully clothed, and me – I was young, naïve, my innermost thoughts and emotions – an open book, my body – naked, my intimacies – wrapped and under key.

  And they wanted me to dance!

  For a long, interminable moment, I desperately wished for something, a calamity of any sort to strike and distract them from my shame. But of course nothing of the sort happened. This was public nudity and I was completely unaccustomed to it. Finally, my master grimaced, dug into his pocket, got his cell phone and tapped out something on its screen. Soon a soft Oriental rhythm filled the large living room. The two men looked at me expectantly and I felt my blush deepen.

  Yet I could not but obey. Had I not just been spanked, made to climax, and then locked into a chastity belt? The music and what they had done to me acted like a key in that instant. Something unlocked that deep feminine that resides in every woman of every species. Before I knew it my body began responding to the music and the intoxicating attention of my audience of two. My heart pounded in my chest which felt so tight I could barely breathe. Suddenly I wished I had at least a sliver of clothing just so I could theatrically use it to extend the palpable tension in the room. Unfortunately, all I had to work with was my body, and the heavy gold chain tightly secured around my waist that held my chastity belt in place. That and the strident chimes of my ankle bracelets that tinkled with every step I took.

  Even though I could dance of course, I was definitely not accustomed to dancing alone for the pleasure of men. Like probably many other young girls, I had practiced stripping in the privacy of my own bedroom, in front of my mirror. Yet, somehow, my body knew exactly what to do. I began to roll my hips in time to the music. Slowly at first, but then with growing confidence I swayed to the music. I had the attention of the two men. I was hot and sexy. I felt the power that came from that knowledge grow in me and imbue every fiber of my body with its strength. I let my tongue trace my lower lip and gave them what I hoped would come across as a sexy look.

  Then I had this idea, like I wasn't naked but had a beautiful Eastern dress on me. I was going to slowly dance it off, stripping for my master. I tossed my head, letting my hair float in the air as I rolled my hips and started to move my legs, my anklets joining in the rhythm of the soft Arabic music. I slowly undid the buttons down the front of my imaginary blouse. When they were all the way to the bottom, I flipped open first one side then the other still grinding my hips and moving my thighs. My breasts were full with milk, heavy and throbbing and my hands naturally came to them from below. I squeezed and moaned and the men gasped audibly while my waist shimmied faster and faster in sync to the music. Long white streams of milk spurted from my nipples and painted a circle around my body as I twirled in place on the balls of my feet.

  I imagined my skirt would be flipping up teasingly right about now and with a wicked little grin I let it drop to the floor. I squeezed my breasts standing with my side towards the gaping men like a goddess of fertility spraying the milk of abandon in profile. Trickles of white flowed down my breasts along my taut tummy and into my bushy center. By now my heartbeat was completely in sync to the music. I lifted my hands and arched my back as I turned and turned, dancing naked to please my owner.

  “Pinch your nipples, pull on them," Master Branigan's voice ordered. I did as told letting my fingers dig into the perky softness as I danced to the rhythm powered by a crackling sexual electricity running back and forth across my flushed skin.

  “Bravo!” Came Mr. Henry's acclamation but the music wasn't done and neither was my master.

  "Keep dancing, little slut. Run your hands across your tight little body," his godlike voice ordered. I didn't have to be told twice. My hands washed across my flushed throbbing breasts wet with milk and made their way down my belly along my chastity belt trying but failing to squeeze at my trapped pussy. I felt weak on my knees but the rhythm was unrelenting and I danced on.

  By the time the music reached a crescendo I was on the verge of fainting when mercifully it suddenly stopped and I came down to my knees bowing my head to the floor arms outstretched towards my master. Silence greeted my finish but then a loud applause echoed in the room as if not merely two but an entire crowd was assembled to adulate me. I was breathing deeply sweat trickling down my arms as I worked to gather my wits and strength so I could stand again.

  ***

  Master:

  “Come sweetheart.” Lena’s dance is done and the man motions her over and I feel my arms tense. Perhaps I should pour myself another glass? As I watch my beautiful Lena demurely stand I remind myself to get a grip. The Society overlord wouldn’t have sent Mr. Henry if he didn't have absolute confidence in his judgment. I remind myself that whatever he chooses to do is all probably a test not just of Lena but me to. I remind myself to stay put on the couch and not move a muscle lest I spring up and pummel the man into the floor with the obscene primal jealousy that's making me see red right now. Lena comes to stand by us and it is all I can do to hold on to my empty glass and stop myself from reaching out and cupping her sweetness the musk of which sends bolts of thunder straight across to my loins.

  "How do you feel, angel?” The man asks taking her by the hands. It is odd to see the naked girl look down on the bearded man. Her cheeks are burning up, her eyes brimming with tears.

  "Okay, I guess," she says meekly.

  He "Your dance was exquisite, pure delight to watch. Does your master make you dance often?" Mr. Henry asks. Lena shakes her head.

  “No, Sir. I have never danced for him before… Or anybody else,” she hastily adds and I smile. She's so intuitive, my natural little slave.

  "Amazing!" I cannot disagree with the emissary’s assessment. She’s a natural submissive, one in a thousand, more precious than any jewel. “Good girl, come kneel. I want to give you something. Open your mouth,” and she does and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lollipop that he unwraps and puts over her tongue. She eagerly starts sucking on it. “You did well today.” Lena looks down at her knees demurely.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You’re welcome, child,” he gently caresses her and turns to face me. “Tell me, Branigan, have you given the idea of fitting her out with a corset any thought?”

  “No, not really. I haven’t
had her long enough to indulge in anything beyond simple indoctrination and training.”

  I can see Lena squirm a little no doubt trying to get herself used to the object pressing up against her entrapped pudenda.

  “Tell me sweetheart is the chastity belt comfortable?”

  “It isn’t uncomfortable,” she says in a small voice. “I just… It feels a little strange, I’ve never had to wear anything like that before.” Somehow, impossibly, her blush deepens. My cock is like steel.

  “But it's not hurting, right?” Lena shakes her head and I relax into my seat relieved. Hopefully that would be it. Mr. Henry has accomplished whatever he came here for.

  “Good,” he laughs his hand still resting atop Lena's head possessively as if she is his pet dog. Mr. Henry turns to face me. “There are many benefits to a corset, you know, and I ask only because I have a feeling that a sweet girl like your Lena here would benefit from it. Feeling its tightness around her body all day does miracles for a slave’s self-esteem. Or lack thereof,” he chuckles and takes a sip of his whiskey.