I tried to rub my head on Arshan's chest, but he backed up a bit. I lowered my head, then, and went for the man, pressing my chest against his side and begging silently with my eyes. "Oho! Arshan, I do believe you have been depriving the girl."
"Ah, she gets like this sometimes, uncontrollable. But she hasn't deserved me yet. What shall I do?"
The man stroked his moustache. "Slave," he said to his own slave, "Kneel." The slave obeyed. To Arshan, as his eyes examined me still pressing against him. "I believe we might have some amusement?"
"By all means."
Arshan handed the leash to the man, who held me from behind by my shoulders. He untied my hands as he moved me forward, until I was less than an inch from his kneeling slave's face. The slave licked my stomach. "Lie down," he said, pushing me down as he said it. He held my wrists fast above my head, and called for two other men to hold my ankles. Two other guests gladly did, spreading my legs in front of the slave. "Now slave," he said, speaking to his own, "follow my instructions very carefully."
"First, run the back of your fingers up the inside of her legs, but stop about half way up the thigh. Good. Again. Keep that up. Now move forward on your knees, run your hands up her stomach, cup her breasts. Take each nipple into your teeth, the right one first."
I twisted as he bit, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to send goosebumps down my whole right side. I moaned when he took the left.
"Now pinch them both with your fingers, keep your thumbs over the tips of the nipples, rub as you would a lucky coin. Ah, she's moving now. Fetch ice from the table. Good. Now take one cube in either hand, and hold it against her breasts. Rub. Good. Now with the ice, down the center of her sternum, down to the bellybutton, slowly now, slowly down the center of her abdomen, stop. Leave the ice there."
I felt the cold water melting down over my pubic hair.
"Now take some ice cubes in your mouth. With a cube in your right hand, slowly draw a line from the floor, up past her anus (I shivered again) up to her vagina, stop. Can you push it in? It has melted already? Get another, now up, up, press it to her clitoris, slave. Do not rub, simply press."
I gasped. The rubbing Gallen had given me seemed to flood back into me, I felt my labia swelling and my clit begin to throb under the ice.
"Now, keeping the ice in your mouth, extend your tongue, touch her clitoris."
The rough surface of the tongue, but as cold as ice, made me jump. The slave began a circular motion with the tongue, then switched to a straightforward lapping. I couldn't stop moving my hips. I tried to pull my legs free—I wanted to wrap them around his head and keep his icy tongue there forever, but the men held me fast. I began moaning.
"Now slave, please immerse your penis in the ice. After this." He pulled a cock ring from the pocket of his brocaded jacket. The slave had trouble at first, but finally succeeded in putting it in place. Good. I wanted him long and hard and inside me. Even if it would be ice cold.
The long frozen shaft penetrated my throbbing cunt one millimeter at a time. I moaned trying to move up further on his pole, but he kept the distance where he, or rather, his master, wanted it. When he was all the way in, they held more ice to my nipples, and then he pulled just as slowly out, and iced his cock some more. Then he came back in, slowly, and out. More ice. Then slowly in... I thought I would go insane. He tickled my clit with the icy tip then and a spasm ran up my spine. So close! Then he plunged into me, and began grinding in a wide circle. I moaned loudly, but kept my eyes on the man holding my wrists. After all, it was really him fucking me, through his slave. I imagined it was Arshan inside me then and I gasped, the slave began pumping in and out of me so fast I was just beginning to wonder how long he could keep that up when I came and came and came. One leg came free as I spasmed and the they all let go and I clung to the slave with all my limbs, holding him deep inside me. I rolled him over onto his back, and sat up, riding him. I threw my head back and began rocking, pushing immediately for that second explosive orgasm I knew I could have. It blossomed quickly, the energy traveling out my limbs and up through the top of my head as I cried out.
I slumped forward and Arshan lifted me off the slave's still stiff penis. There were people applauding politely, I think. He bound my hands in front of me then, and let me lean, eyes closed against him, covering my shoulder with the corner of his cape. "There now, much more docile, you see."
"So I do see," the man was saying. Then to his slave, "Well done." He removed the cock ring. "He has been instructed not to have an orgasm or ejaculate until I say he may," he explained. "I am pleased."
We moved off into the crowd then. Thank you, I thought dreamily.
You're welcome. But you're not done yet, are you?
I sent him the image in my mind of his penis probing the very dark corners of my soul, of the fire spreading up my limbs and back through him with a kiss, building and spreading through every pore in both our bodies. In time, he replied. But I think I am going to let one more scene pass.
He rarely gave me hints about what he was planning, unless that was a part of it all.
Yes, I think I'll trade you for someone else for a while.
What?
Trade you.
Arshan, I don't like the sound of that.
You can tell me to stop anytime. We'll go home.
I bit my lip. Not yet. Not yet Even through his thoughts I was unsure if he was serious. Aftershocks from orgasm were making things jump in and out of focus. He held me tight as he led me to a place to sit, a chaise lounge along one wall.
When I looked up he was smiling. It's just I have a few interests, he thought.
Oh? I haven't seen much worth fishing for...
He shared with me the image of Cleo, black beads covering them both. Hah. How do you think you're going to maneuver that? Cleo doesn't DO public displays anymore.
Who said it would be public? But not just now, I'm thinking of more ready game. You remember Mor?
How could I forget him. Mor was an old party-goer who had played with us a few times. He had luscious dark brown skin and long black straight hair. But, he's...
He's here tonight, as a slave. I don't think I'll have to trade you for him, but I do want him.
I returned the smile. Let's go for it.
* * * *
I had to admit Mor was stunning. I had always seen him heavily adorned in black leather. But tonight he wore only body paint, in elaborate and colorful designs. His hair drawn back in a long top knot, he seemed a bird out of a jungle paradise, alien and irresistible. His master we also knew, Martin, who had once been a student of Mor's. I suspected this was a sort of graduation gift. Mor's and my eyes met while our masters talked. If I hadn't known better I would have thought he had me hypnotized. I admitted to myself I wanted him, but he was Arshan's choice. The thought of his body and Arshan's together warmed me all over. A crowd was gathering.
Suddenly Arshan dropped the leash. Martin picked it up and I was pulled outside of the circle that was forming. I resisted the urge to call out to Arsh. I couldn't see him, and a knot of panic started growing in my stomach. I looked at Martin. He smiled, remembering me, and it calmed me. Arshan could take care of himself. But, I still wished I could watch. Martin shrugged and let go the leash then, and pushed his way back into the crowd. Free, lost, I circled the knot of onlookers aimlessly.
I'm not sure when it happened. At one point I could sense, even though I could not see, Arshan approaching orgasm. Perhaps it was at that moment, when the leather gloved hands covered my mouth and nose, a strange smell invaded my brain, and try as I could to think, to send a message, I could only slip down into the darkness.
I awoke what couldn't have been more than a few minutes later. Gallen leered as he finished closed the last binding on my ankle. I was spread-eagled on a cross in one of the small playrooms. I sensed other people behind me, three? four? From their breathing they sounded like men. Gallen straightened his gauntlets and crossed his arms.
&nb
sp; Arsh? Arshan! There was no response. I could sense him fuzzily—no telling if it was the drug that made me weak, or if he was just too busy to hear it, or both. Like me, he was always weakest after an orgasm. I looked Gallen in the face. "What do you think you're doing?"
He didn't answer, except to pick up a short whip and to come to lean against my side. I was at about a forty five degree angle to the floor. He caressed my breasts with his leather covered hands, and my nipples stood up defiantly. I didn't have a shred of costume left now, even the collar was gone.
Arshan, did you plan this? Arshan! But there was still nothing. I cursed at Gallen in Ardric, now only half-acting.
"Screw you," he replied, but mildly, as he tickled my nipples with the tip of the whip. He ran the leather under my chin, bringing up goosebumps, tickling the inside of my ear, making me shudder. "There now." He used the tip like a feather, searching me all over for ticklish spots, until he ended tweaking my clit upward with it, not quite hard enough.... I moaned. I was becoming wet. I hoped Arshan had set this up earlier...
Gallen lifted the end of the X and it locked in to place with me parallel to the floor. Twisting my head I could see the others, three men I didn't know. I was going to hiss at them, when I felt the handle of the whip enter my cunt.
I looked up at Gallen. The handle was rough, and though I was wet, it did not go in and out smoothly. He smiled as he fucked me with it. It was the smile that frightened me. I tried to read him more closely, but his mind was sealed tighter than shrinkwrap.
"You like that don't you?" He twisted it back and forth, never pushing it far enough in to touch my cervix. Just enough to make me moan again. "You like the whip," he said more to himself than to me. He pulled it out then, and tasted the wet end of it. Then his tone changed and his smile disappeared. "I promised you a lesson, didn't I."
"You've had your fun," I spat. "Let me out of here."
"Such a feisty act you two have. Let's see how long you can keep it up." He cracked the whip and I, and the spectators, jumped.
"If you lay that whip on me, I'll kill you," I said matter-of-factly. "Believe me, Gallen, if I don't, then Arshan will."
He raised his eyebrows at the use of his name, and cracked the whip again.
"Gallen," I repeated, "Stop it, now."
He circled me, rotated the X again so that I was upright. The blood was rushing from my head as I tried again. Arsh, get your ass in here! I struggled against the bindings, but they were as real as they looked. "I am going to kill you!"
And he struck me. The whip lashed me on the chest, just above my left breast. Pain and adrenaline flooded me. Arshan!!
Yes?
I tried to tell him what was happening, but all that came through to him was a white hot burst of pain as I was struck for only the second time in ten years by anyone other than he. Perhaps that got the message through more clearly than anything. I was panting. "You will die," I said. Gallen lashed out again, and again. Sweat broke out all over my body as I fought to contain the pain. I tried to breathe deeply, but I shook too hard, he gave me no respite between strokes. He tricked me, cracking the whip into the air sometimes, or raising his arm, and then stopping. I did not scream.
And then Arshan's voice in my head. *he door's bolted. Hang on!
"Please, stop," I was saying. I looked at the three spectators. "Someone, make him stop!" One of them started forward, but Gallen cracked the whip in front of them. He struck me again, on the cheek. I think tears ran down my cheeks with the blood. "Gallen! Stop!"
He was laughing. He let a few more strokes fall, each one seemed harder than the last, and then he threw the whip down and unsheathed his penis. He pushed the table back flat and stood between my legs, rubbing his penis against the inside of my thighs with his hand. I mustered up the strength to spit at him and he thrust into me. "Still warm, I see," he said as he fucked me vigorously. Trembling, I tried to pretend he wasn't there. I closed my eyes this time, Arshan...?
We're almost through... he answered. I could almost feel the clenching of his teeth.
Gallen must have heard the door beginning to give, for he redoubled his efforts and was exploding into me just about the time Arshan came exploding through the door. Arshan leapt straight over the table and knocked Gallen flat on his back. One of the spectators pressed the release and tipped the table forward. I stumbled to my knees, shaking life back into my arms. The two of them struggled. I saw Arshan thrown backwards and Gallen stand up.
I tackled him in the midsection, forcing him back against the wall, and swept his feet out from under him. Once on top of him, I smashed my fist into his face. And again. "I could just drive your nose up into your brain and kill you instantly, " I heard myself say, "But I'd rather beat you like this." I held onto his collar, lifting him up with my left hand and then beating him down with the right. His face felt fleshy, crunchy, knobbly all at once. I pulled him up to a sitting position and switched to backfisting him, then round-housing him, then backfisting him... the resounding smack of meat was all I could hear.
Mriah! Mriah! Stop it! Arshan finally grabbed my wrist and I wondered how long he had been trying to get my attention. He pulled me off of Gallen, and I collapsed, sobbing. Gallen just lay there.
He picked me up gently, wrapping me in his cape. I couldn't think at all, I just cried for a while, and he rocked me in his lap, humming a song softly in his throat. He kissed my bruised cheek, smoothing my hair with his hand and holding me. At some point I realized we were in the car, the smallness of the space comforting me. I kept my eyes closed as he caressed my face. I kissed him, drawing his energy deep into my chest as I inhaled. I love you was the first thing I could think. I drew him down on top of me then, kissing him and kissing him, not opening my eyes even once. He seemed to touch every part of my body then, the whole and the sore, warm and soft. I felt his skin, the long smooth plane of his back under his shirt, and the bony curve of his hip against mine. Come inside me, heal me, I said. He held me tightly, arms circling my ribcage completely. He came into me gently, probing as I opened for him. I tucked my legs behind his back, bonding us together, one animal. You make me whole. I felt the energy building in my womb. Our minds open, I shared it, felt the waves of blood warm pleasure feeding back to me. Up and up we went, until shuddering and shaking as one, we passed the peak and slipped back down into oblivion. As I was drifting into sleep I heard him say Now I remember why we stopped party-going.
In his arms I smiled. I answered, But now I remember why we started...
Cat Scratch Fever
There is something erotic about the feeling of fur, admit it. Especially when under the fur there is taut muscle, the warmth of blood beating under it. I ran my hand over her back, smiling as her tail lifted just a twitch as I reached the base of her spine. The fur was thickest on her back, but thinned down her sides and her front, just a downy covering on her stomach. I scratched her under the chin and rolled her over gently, letting my hand slide down between her breasts and over her stomach. She rubbed her head against my knee while I beheld her. Such a gorgeous creature, she had all the outlines of a woman but for the tail, her brown eyes bright against the blackness of her fur.
I wondered if I looked as fine to her, in my canvas and boots and gauntlets and shirt of cotton. She took my hand in her mouth carefully. As I did every night when she awoke, I let her rake the skin with her sharp teeth, drawing just a little blood, and then drew back from her, trying to measure how much time had passed, trying to guess how long I could continue to tarry in the woods, my Keep possibly languishing without me. Well, they could wait a week or two, perhaps even more if that is what it would take. Dara could hold things together until I returned, or so I hoped. I rested my hand on the lovely she-cat’s head and was amazed and gratified to hear something unmistakably like a purr.
Some of my men had brought her out of the forest—it had been a hectic time. I had ordered them on ahead with the hunt while I stayed behind at the Keep to administrate some lord
ly matter. I never dreamed they would succeed in snaring something before I arrived.
When I rode into the camp, I could already tell something had happened. They were a dozen men altogether. Danton took my horse by the reins as I dismounted and headed for the first trailer. But I did not have to enter it to find them, for the rest were circled around something on the ground. They were making a lot more noise than I would have expected. Then someone shrieked in pain and I charged forward, breaking their circle.
Guilty-sounding explanations of innocence barraged me as I surveyed the scene. One man was on the ground bleeding from one eye. Another, Hillard, was nursing a crudely bandaged arm. I held out my hands for silence, opening my mouth to demand what had happened...
... and I left it open as I saw her. She was crouched low, but I could see her hands and feet were bound together and a chain hung from her neck to a stake in the ground. She was growling low in her throat, her eyes burning as she flexed her claws. We stared at one another for an age and a half. And then I remembered to ask. “What the hell is going on here!”
Hillard told me one thing, about how they’d hunted her down that morning and were just trying to tame her before I got there. But later Danton told me the truth, that they had kept her there for two days.
“Why didn’t you radio me!” I was shouting, pacing in the dark, cramped space of the trailer. But it wasn’t Danton I should be angry with.
He did not explain. His eyes said what I knew, that Hillard had the true answers.
I burst out of the tiny trailer to find Hillard pissing against its wall. He backed away from me, dripping, not lifting his hands to brush the strings of dirty blond hair from his eyes.
“I take it you heard, then, what our friend Danton has said.”
“That’s true, milord Calidare,” he stopped backing to talk, but kept rocking back and forth from one foot to the other. “We just didn’t want to upset you.”
“Upset me!” I slapped my leather gauntlets into my left palm. “Lying to me upsets me, Hillard, as does withholding information from me.”
Telepaths Don't Need Safewords, by Cecilia Tan Page 2