by Aran Ashe
"I see your training has enhanced that lickerishness of spirit." Lord Aldrid flicked the pearl; a stinging pleasure flashed up into Anya. "Perhaps I might have been too harsh on you. Now spread, that I might look upon your blackness and your beauty." And Anya heard his lordship's sharply indrawn breath, which made her open her eyes to see those blue-grey eyes of his - still cold, perhaps, but much less threatening - caress her burning with that cool calm gaze which stemmed her fear, yet at the same time heightened her palpitating in that spot between her thighs. Her nub had swelled to make the pearl grip, in tightness and in pleasure. "This pearl has never looked so exquisite upon any slave's person," his lordship whispered, and reached again, but this time did not touch, as if now he were afraid to do so. Yet it seemed that Anya felt that touch although it did not happen; her sex contracted at that pull that did not come; that feeling was, to Anya, quite delicious.
Lord Aldrid's gaze had shifted; he had noticed this little ripple of delight. "It seems the pleasuring has begun," he murmured, though Anya was unsure quite what his lord ship meant by this. But she was sure that she wanted him to touch her once again, to take the pearl and very gently twist it in his fingers. The thought of that made Anya's pip pulsate again.
His lordship sat back on the bed, and his expression now appeared much sterner. "I now propose to advance your training one step further - with your consent, that is," he added, scrutinising Anya very carefully. He held up his hand, as if to demonstrate; his long thin fingers bunched together in such a way that all four fingertips were touching. That ominous gesture made Anya apprehensive once again. "And are you in agreement with this ... rather forthright specification?" He turned his hand to examine it from the back. "Hmmm? Or would you prefer it if, firstly, I were to remove my ring? ... There now, is that more appealing to your person, would you think?" This action only served to confirm Anya's fears. That coldness in her belly came again. It seemed to drain away those feelings that had earlier felt so sweet. "Shall this be sufficient counterpoise to that lusting in your belly?" The coldness turned to ice inside her. "So - no reply. Well then, we shall see your stubbornness tested to its limit."
Anya felt like turning to run but she knew there was no escape. In this castle, their lordships and the Taskmistress would surely mould her to their will, for her body now belonged to them. But even the certainty of that knowledge did nothing to lessen the weight of it - the burden of what she knew would happen to her now - that cruel means by which his lordship would wish to penetrate her; that degrading way in which he would in time procure Anya's pleasure.
"Axine, bring a cushion to support this wench, and have her ladyship spread face down on the bed." he turned Anya's chin so that she faced him and could see his wickedly sneering smile, "that we may examine her in a more intimate manner, and thereby determine the root cause of her waywardness ... and, who knows, sharpen up her wanting."
Anya was drawn, face down, into the centre of Lord Aldrid's very great bed. She neither co-operated, nor did she resist; she allowed her body to go very limp in her submission to his lordship's very perverse designs, for she wanted to detach herself completely from any treatment to which his lordship might try to subject her body merely to stimulate her longing, simply to satisfy his whim.
The cushion was positioned with very great precision, so it pressed into Anya's belly and raised her hips but did not brush against her tenderness.
"The pearl must remain suspended and free from all distracting touches," Lord Aldrid announced, and took great care that the pearl touched neither the cushion nor indeed the surface of the bed. "It will be necessary for her to be spread as wide as it is possible so to do - and then a little more, I fear, and held, open and accessible, in that position." His lordship then explained to Axine exactly how he wished such spreading to be brought into effect.
Anya's cheek was pressed against the velvet; her fingers, stretching out above her, took comfort from its thick plush pile by clawing deeply into it. Axine's thighs trapped Anya's ribcage; her bottom pressed into Anya's back, between her shoulders; the soles of Axine's feet were softly moulded up against Anya's armpits; Anya's breasts, pushed outwards by the weight of Axine's body, moved with every breath against the soft fine hairs of Axine's calves, which brushed and tickled Anya's nipples. And Axine's hands, by locking in the crook of Anya's knees, held them high up on the bed, keeping Anya very open, so that, with Anya's belly supported by the cushions, her sex was left projecting out above the bed for Aldrid's carefully calculated attentions. The pearl, though free and unrestricted by any possible irritating touches from the bed, the cushion, or even Anya's squeezing thighs, still pulsed very gently at intervals, as Anya's mood would swell the living pearl beneath it against the nipping pleasure of the mounting, and trip those sweet yet cruel unstoppable cascades of honeyed palpitations which, even in their ebbing, would slowly well again to trip once more.
Her sex was burning to be penetrated; her body boiled with lust, and yet, pinned and held like this, she was quite powerless to help her body onwards or to prevent his lordship from doing precisely as he pleased. And now, it seemed, his lordship was pleased to take his time. Anya could not know quite when or where or even how that touch might come. All that she could do was to lie and wait and breathe and heave and thereby brush her breasts, and claw the bed and pulse and spread, until his lordship cared to touch her - where he liked.
Axine's bottom had pressed and spread on Anya's back, to the point where Axine's dense black bush curls captured Anya's downy hairs and tickled Anya's skin. His lordship's finger touched her and she almost passed out with delight - that soft and gentle brushing fingertip had stroked around that tightened inturned skin around the very mouth of Anya's bottom. That touch was feather-light against her black-brown velvet. His lordship's fingerpad now stroked her in a scarcely touching circle; it sensitised those very secret innocent nerves which should not be awakened, making Anya want to push up against that fingertip, and close that nervous pulsing mouth around it, and to kiss and suck it with her body. The finger kept on circling. The slow insistent delicious spiralling of pleasure penetrated Anya; its filaments of delectation twisted down through her bottom; its reaching tendrils rooted in her flesh and, searching, seemed to curl around and squeeze and draw and tickle Anya's nubbin from behind.
"Your jewel of pleasure is pulsing very lewdly," his lordship observed, and Anya's face was burning, though with Axine restraining her in so firmly open a position, she could not prevent her body from responding to this meticulous fingertip seduction. And in truth, she did not want the tickling to stop. She wanted his lordship to keep tickling her in such delicious circles, until Anya cried out for his lordship to show mercy, and to strip the pearl right from her body and squeeze and draw that living fleshy pearl beneath, then split and penetrate her tortured sex with his cool hard stem, until her body heaved and burst in pleasurable relief and Aldrid squirted liquid coolness deep within her.
The circling stopped, yet Anya's pearl kept pulsing slowly. His lordship's fingers touched her soot-black leaves of flesh and teased apart their liquid gripping surfaces, then spread them back against her curls. Anya's leaves remained open, of their own accord, in soft and pliant obedience to his lordship's unspoken yet very clearly indicated requirement. And then his tongue-tip touched the inner surface of those open leaves, incising fine cool lines of liquid pleasure into Anya's warm compliant out-turned innerness.
Axine split - her leaves unfurled and spread her heat across the skin of Anya's back, as Axine's thighs, driven by the vision that unfolded now before her, had widened, and her pressing had intensified. Lord Aldrid's tongue, not pointed now, but flattened out to encompass Anya's leaves, broad-brushed her in a single upstroke which deposited a film of Aldrid's thickened spittle across Anya's openness and slowly up into the groove of her bottom.
Then Aldrid spoke to Axine. "Hold her very firmly; keep her legs spread very wide." Axine's sex contracted, suckering down upon the bumps of Anya's s
pine, so Anya felt that burning heat was boring down inside her. Her legs were tensed by Axine's hands, her sex projected out above the cushion; the throbbing there below the pearl was more insistent. Then Anya felt her already outspread leaves being held back flat against her curls, and the bunched-up fingers pressing up against her, then slipping through the mouth of her sex, which gripped and in its gripping measured out the girth of all four fingertips. Anya closed her eyes and opened out her body to that cool insistent cone of finger-flesh which pushed up into her. The knowledge that Axine would be witnessing her penetration made Anya ashamed; she wondered how she would ever bring herself to look upon Axine's face again, for she would see forever mirrored in that face her own connivance at this debauching of her person. Because, despite her shame, she wanted this fleshy cone to press on up inside her; her body yearned to be filled, to take another's flesh like this and squeeze it. That long cool searching middle finger found the mouth of Anya's womb, and Anya wanted that fingertip to push against her - to have that probing fingerpad keep kissing at her womb. Each time it touched her there, it gave her such deep, voluptuous pleasure.
Lord Aldrid's other hand now spread her buttocks. "Perfect blackness ... Let me fill your ink-black beauty," he said; his thumb stroked across, then pushed into her bottom; the shock of penetration there made Anya's eyes spread wide. Her head went back; her heart beat fast; her breathing came in gasps - the thumb slid slowly in against the tightness of her closure. The slower it moved against her flesh, the tighter she became, until very soon it stopped.
"Your body would deny me access?" Lord Aldrid sounded grave. His frightening words only made her tighten harder, until the end of his thumb felt like a bone. "It seems some training is required in this department, too. Perhaps your Taskmistress will be able to suggest some corrective measure ..." Anya shivered. "But that is for the future. In the meantime, I shall overlook this one transgression. Now, you shall relax and submit yourself to this particular delight."
His lordship then had Anya say the following words, although she was so ashamed to do so. Yet on this point his lordship proved very firm indeed - the slave must state precisely what she wanted him to do.
"I beg your lordship ... penetrate me," she began. Lord Aldrid coughed, and she corrected herself. "Penetrate my bottom ... please." His fingers moved within her sex.
"Just?" his lordship prompted her. Anya was close to tears at this further degradation.
"Just as deeply as your lordship pleases." Her cheeks were flaming. Her fingers dug into the surface of the bed, scratching out those stripes of pain and humiliation deep into the velvet.
"Good. It shall be my pleasure to penetrate you deeply."
But Lord Aldrid's other hand slipped underneath her first, to nurture her desire. His finger tapped and flicked the pearl, whose weighted tingle shook against her in delicious stimulation. The vibrating flicks continued at a calculated rate until she felt as if her fleshy bud had dipped itself in honey, its thickness bathing her in sweetness, and then had lifted up again so the pearl was now a dangling sweet and sticky droplet, poised to drip, and in its dripping it would pull its clinging film of heavy thickness tightly round her nubbin. That feeling made her want to lift her hips and shake them very lewdly, to shake that cruelly delicious wavering droplet off that point of contact and to have his lordship's tapping fingertip instead press up against her bud and rotate against it, grinding very firmly, without respite, if needs be turning till that rigid pip of flesh was pushed inside her body - but at any rate, not stopping till her womb had liquefied and she had died of pleasure.
"That is much more comfortable - your body feels more open now - my thumb fits in you neatly."
Anya had found that now she wanted to accommodate his lordship's hand - his fingers and his thumb. She wanted to form herself into a living glove about him and have him feel her heat; she wanted him to stroke her deep inside. His lordship's hand was moving very gently in her sea of spongy softness; the bridge between his thumb and fingers pressed into her saddle - she liked that line of pressure there; it brought a deep and diffuse pleasure. And she liked it when his fingers closed towards his thumb and, pad to pad, they trapped her wall of flesh and squeezed it very definitely. She felt that squeezing in her throat.
"You feel so soft and warm and liquid in there," Lord Aldrid mused. "I love you in your outspread state. I love you in your openness. I love to feel such pent-up passion in a woman."
And now, Lord Aldrid very carefully withdrew his hand from Anya, although her body seemed reluctant to release it; the sliding of his fingers up against her inner flesh generated such deep-drawing sensations in her that her sex and bottom mouth contracted round him, and then, as she forced herself to open ('Good," he said), the renewed pulling simply made her contract again, so the withdrawal had to be effected against these intermittent nervous pulses of her sex about his slowly drawing fingers. Then Anya felt a drip upon her lower back - a drip of liquid from within her. Lord Aldrid traced those fingers, dripping wet with Anya's oily juices, in tickling liquid smears down Anya's back, around her hips and down to Anya's thighs.
"Your body heat shall distil your musk, so I may drink it deeply - and with each delightful breath of you, I shall thereby know your need."
Anya pressed her cheek hard into the velvet; her point of flesh was burning with desire - burning for those fingertips to oil it too. The liquid weals of inner lust evaporated slowly, coolly, from her back, whilst Axine gently rocked above her, and Aldrid stroked a fingertip up and down her spine.
"Now sit up, my child," Lord Aldrid said, "and let me dandle you on my knee. Axine - bring some wine."
Lord Aldrid's arm was cradling Anya's head, as if she were a baby; the silken smoothness of his gown was brushing on her skin. She stared, with a degree of trepidation, into that cool, lined face, and found herself examining those thick and bushy eyebrows, those wispy hairs which projected from within his ears and downwards from his nostrils, and wondering what it might be like to run her fingertips up behind his head and through that grey-white hair, and to have to press her soft young lips up to that thick and wrinkled skin of Aldrid's face and kiss it. She also wondered how his lordship might appear beneath his yellow robe - would his skin be moulded to his bones, and would her tongue-tip be required to trace each line of rib across his chest, and tickle in amongst those old grey curls? And would she find such dalliance a duty or a pleasure? She watched him raise the golden jewel-encrusted goblet to his lips, and drink; she watched the tongue that had so exquisitely tickled and brushed her peep and draw within that mouth the blood-red drop of wine that rested on his lower lip. She watched him turn and look at her and wash her body with those ice-blue eyes, before at last he spoke.
"Some wine, my dear - to warm you in your belly?" The wine upon his breath smelled rich and aromatic.
"If it please you, my lord," Anya found herself replying.
His lordship quaffed again and, bending over Anya, he pressed his cool firm lips to hers. She did not resist him - she opened her lips and spread, then closed them softly around his lips, sucking at them gently, like a drowsing baby, as he dripped delicious heady droplets deep into her mouth. And Anya drank that wine - each mouthful that his lordship gave her - and breathed its heavy vapour as it evaporated on her tongue, until a warm intoxication seeped right through her body and glowed within her core.
"And how do you like this style of pleasuring, my child?" Lord Aldrid asked her, whilst he tickled idly underneath her nipples, which to Anya felt heavy with the weighted warmth of wine.
"My lord - these ways to me seem most unfamiliar and -" Anya hesitated.
"Go on, my child - do not be afraid to speak your mind to me." His lordship's fingertips caressed her nipples, each by turn, until they had hardened to his satisfaction.
"Difficult to bear ..." she whispered, for she was apprehensive about how welcome such frankness might prove to be.
"Mmm ... Yes, I see that," he said. "Yet have I caus
ed you pain? Thus far, I have only brought you pleasure - yes?" His eyebrows raised. Anya nodded in agreement. "Is pleasure then to be classed with pain? Is pleasure then a burden, to be cast aside as used, after very short acquaintance?"
"No, my lord ... not quite." Anya felt his lordship did not fully understand.
"Is it not appropriate, then, that pleasure be prolonged? If not indefinitely, then for as long as one is able?"
"My lord, I ... It is so hard to bear, this ... this very drawn-out pleasuring."
"But my darling child, this is why your training encompasses these skills - to help you learn to carry your burden of desire with strength and confidence - in the way Axine does." Axine was standing by the bedside; she smiled at Anya. It was true that Axine had confidence, Anya thought, but Axine was not being subjected to such remorseless torture as Anya. The wine had not assuaged the burning need that the pearl induced between her legs. The waves of lust would recede for several minutes, only to return with redoubled vigour, making Anya's eyelids feel heavy and her whole sex throb with unallayed desire.