Layla reached toward Aya, her face a mask of sadness, “Please Mistress, forgive me. You are right, I forgot my true duty to you. I was thinking of myself. Always I look forward to my rewards. I did not realize how selfish it was. Please, Mistress, is there another way I may serve you?”
Aya began to untie the ropes holding the girl, massaging and manipulating the girl’s limbs as she was freed. Once the girl was loose, Aya s and spoke softly, “Slave Layla open your mouth and stick out your tongue for me.” Again Aya placed a single drop of the hot pepper oil on the girls tongue. “Close your mouth and swirl the oil around on your tongue. Swallow it down.”
Again Layla’s face flushed and sweat stood out on her forehead. Aya s and lay back on the bed, spreading her legs, “Yes, you may serve me again. Take your time, I want this to last.”
This time the burning sensation was more pronounced, almost too painful, but the heat was compelling. Aya’s long slender fingers found their way to her own dark nipples, pulling and twisting at them. With her hands free, Layla looked up at Aya and slowly licked the length of her fingers and then slid them deep into her Mistress’s passage, pressing deep and then rubbing at the inner walls. Aya groaned as she felt the heat from the girl’s saliva on her fingers, “Yes, fuck yes, that is good.”
Aya only let Layla slip away after her third orgasm. She stroked the hair away from the girl’s face and looked into her eyes, “Slave, you have pleased me. Does that please you?”
Aya felt a sweet rush of power when the girls lips trembled with joy, “Oh yes, thank you, mistress.”
Chapter 21
“Do not indulge your need for rewards. Do not revel in them, flaunt them, or offer them in trade to your fellow slaves. It distracts you from your true duties to serve your Masters. Even when we give you your rewards, it is not for your pleasure but our own.”
Layla nodded, and murmured, “Yes mistress, thank you mistress.”
Aya’s voice was soft and almost loving. “Slave Layla, you have had your reward tonight. You need nothing more to feel fulfilled.”
Again the slave girl nodded, her soft blue eyes mesmerized by Aya’s darker eyes staring deep into hers, “Yes, mistress, thank you mistress.”
“You will not seek fulfillment or brag of your service to others. If an overseer requests your services, you will comply but I require you tell them that I have forbidden you to come. Be here again tomorrow night. I am not finished with you. You have made progress but it is too soon for you to receive rewards from the hands of another. That must come from me and only when it pleases me.” It did not occur to Aya that the girl might disobey; she held too much power on the island. The consequences for disobedience were too frightening.
Only one person on the island outranked Aya and could countermand her instructions. Even if JD decided to play with Layla she would be compelled to communicate her restrictions to him so that he could directly free her from that restriction.
Aya pushed the girl to sleep at the foot of her bed and fell asleep, her cunt still feeling the heat from the hot tongue of the girl.
Aya woke early and as she stretched her foot touched the warm soft skin of the slave sleeping at the foot of her bed. She could feel Layla tense and scoot away. Aya ran her tongue over her teeth, surprised to find all the heat from the peppers completely gone. “Get me a cup of tea.”
Layla slipped from the bed and silently hurried out to the cook house. She was back, kneeling, the cup gracefully balanced on the palm of her hand when Aya came out of the bathroom. Aya picked up the cup and looked down at the girl, “So, slave, I am curious. How does your cunt feel this morning?”
“Mistress, it feels mostly normal. It does not burn or itch now. There is a little tingling.” Layla glanced nervously at her hands, “Mistress, I did wash it off in the night; after you were asleep I used the bathroom and did clean myself afterwards. I hope that was not disobedience. I was not sure, but I know I must clean myself after I have a...” the girl blushed and then looked up, “...a poop.”
Aya laughed, “No that was not disobedience. Keeping yourself clean is one of the most important duties. Did cleaning help with the burning?” She thought to herself that she probably should have told Layla to wash herself before sleeping. The girl’s crotch was not like her mouth, there was not a steady flow of saliva to wash away the oil.
“A little, but it took a long time to go away.”
“Did you like the burning?”
Layla looked thoughtful, “No mistress, it was horrible. Only much later, the itching and tingling felt good, but it was a distraction from my service to you.”
When she sent Layla out Aya reminded her that she must remember her restrictions. No rewards, even if someone were to compliment her she must remember that it was her Masters that were being complimented. She should respond, “This slave thanks you on behalf of her Master.”
Layla nodded, her lips trembled a little. “Yes mistress.”
Aya pulled her into an embrace, whispering, “When you feel sad, remember that even this sadness belongs to me. I know this will not be easy for you, but when the little whiny voice in your head complains to you, wanting rewards, wanting proof of your value, remember you are learning how to serve me better. Remember that is pleasing to me. Seek fulfillment in that.”
Layla melted against Aya’s slender body, a tiny silent sob made her body quiver and she sniffed back some tears. Aya stood still, running her hand up and down the girl’s back thinking to herself about addiction. Layla was as addicted to her need for rewards as much as Josh was to his wine. Aya wondered about her own addictions, the need for that little rush of power when she felt the complete surrender of another to her will, the compulsion to know everything that went on in the little community and to control the lives of others, and most of all that look of admiration in her Master’s eyes. More than the trust, more than the love, it was that possessive wonder she sometimes saw in his eyes when she served him well. It was hard to put into words but she knew that she must always belong to him, be more than perfect, to be stronger and smarter than any other slave that had ever served him, to continually exceed his expectations. Aya would not, could not tolerate failure in herself. She knew this compulsion was in a way her own weakness, her own addiction.
Aya held the girl a second longer, sensing in the girl’s tears a surrender to her will in many ways deeper and more profound than any submission to pain or humiliation. Aya pushed Layla away with a soft negating grunt, “Enough self indulgence. You will soil my clothing. Be back here tonight.”
Chapter 22
Aya checked on Josh and was pleased to see that he had already gotten back to digging. She decided to not disturb him. When she grabbed some cold rice balls, with fish and pickled ginger, she mentioned that she wanted someone to make sure that Josh was fed and taken to the showers. She posted Layla’s restrictions on a board in the guard’s office and then grabbing the same big guard she made her way back down to start Faith’s day.
As they walked Aya asked how the guard’s knee was. He grunted and shrugged. Aya gave him a sharp look, “Perhaps you and I should review your training, for an untrained slave to actually manage to kick you reflects some gap in your skills. Once again I want her tied to the back bars, the batteries changed. You may use as much force as you think necessary, just do not seriously injure her, no bruises on her face and no sexual penetration. Do not be shy about causing her pain or fear. Go ahead and punish her for what she did to you yesterday. Beat her and do not stop until I tell you to stop. Do not turn the collar on, let her scream and talk, just do not speak to her, stay silent throughout.”
Aya wanted Faith to fight and lose, lose big. She wanted Faith to lose and then still suffer, wondering how much she could stand and then to start hoping that Aya would make it stop. She wanted the girl to threaten, beg and then plead. She wanted Faith to hope for the bridle and reins.
A gust of wind battered at the wooden barrier. Faith wondered if it was typhoon s
eason. As if in answer another gust tore a tall palm tree from its roots and came crashing down on her cell. Faith jumped up in fear. It’d almost crushed her! But her cell was a ruin and she could climb out to freedom. Using a broken bar as a lever, she twisted at a link in her chain until it snapped. How strange that it would break so easily.
Quickly she scrambled out of the broken prison and ran as fast and as hard as her feet would carry her. The wind no longer blew. The moon shone brightly along the path she’d chosen away from the compound. Countless stars glittered in the heavens.
After what seemed like an eternity, Faith reached the beach. The waves rushed along the shore. Faith sat in the still warm sand, allowing herself a few minutes to catch her breath and think. She would need clothes; she needed to find a place to hide until she could figure out a way to get off of this forsaken island. Escaped. She threw back her head and laughed.
The collar punished her for her laughter. Damn, she’d forgotten about that. Faith stood up and stretched. Okay. First order of business, find a way to get rid of the collar. Perhaps if she could find a sharp rock or piece of broken shell, she could saw it off. Spotting what looked like a mussel shell; she trotted over and picked it up.
“Come here, slave.”
Faith looked up in horror at the man and Aya. Somehow, they’d found her. Her fear turned to rage. She would not go back. They could kiss her bruised ass if they thought she’d follow along quietly like a trained puppy.
“No!” Faith shouted back, ignoring the pain of the shock wave that threatened to knock her off her feet. “I choose!”
Another shock, more severe this time, coursed through her body, driving her to her knees. Faith didn’t care. “My life! I choose!” Those words rewarded her with a bolt that landed her face first in the sand.
Aya’s foot came down on the back of her neck. Shod in a black stiletto heel, it dug in sharply, just at the base of her skull. Faith stiffened, waiting for a blow. She began to shiver. The more she resisted, the worse the pain became. She was so tired of fighting, so weary of staying angry and hating. Faith longed for a safe, peaceful place.
“It’s here,” a soft voice answered, honey sweet breath near her cheek. Faith opened her eyes. The little blonde that brought her breakfast lay on the ground next to her. She flashed her beautiful smile. “You want this. You just don’t know it yet.”
“No.” Faith whispered. The blonde slave moved closer, her hand stroking Faith’s bare back soothingly, her soft lips touching Faith’s with soft, eager. Trapped under Aya’s foot, Faith couldn’t back away this time.
“You. Want. This.” The girl quietly insisted and continued to kiss Faith. Faith shook her head in protest but began to respond, returning kiss for kiss. As she allowed herself to be soothed by the slave, she relaxed. As she relaxed, even the sensation of the restraining foot on her neck changed. The pressure and pain was still there, but Faith received it as an embrace rather than entrapment.
She relaxed further still. The blonde’s kisses were becoming more ardent and Faith found herself wishing they would never end. Her sex began to swell and ache, she felt its moisture slicking her inner thighs. A pair of hands pulled at her hips, lifting them until she rested on her knees. She felt firm pressure at the opening of her vagina. Instinctively, she press back against it allowing the man’s swollen cock to slowly slip inside her virgin cunt.
Funny, Faith felt a vague curiosity, that should have hurt. The man began to pull back and forth, pressing deeper inside with each stroke. Faith moaned softly, delighting in the sensations of the woman’s mouth on hers, an impossibly soft hand stroking her from shoulders to the small of her back. In the center of all this was the pressure on her neck that bound her to the earth, no longer a threat but a grounding force, a safe place.
Her hips rocked in rhythm, matching the man’s thrusts. A fuzzy, floating sensation filled Faith’s head as she fell deeper under the spell her three captives cast upon her. She sighed, contented. Yes, she belonged here. This was where she wanted to be. Why did she ever fight it?
Pleasure filled her. But there was more, she knew there was more. She was waiting for something. As her desire for release built up inside of her, she understood she needed something else before it could happen. The longing for that one elusive element prolonged her delicious torture and held back her climax.
“Good girl.” Aya’s voice fell on Faith’s ears.
That was it. As Aya’s approval her washed over her, her orgasm exploded deep in her belly and brain. She thrust her hips harder, milking the man’s cock with each spasm of pleasure.
“You belong to us!”
“NO!” Faith’s eyes flew open, greeted by the darkness of her perfectly intact prison.
Somehow, the chain binding her neck to her feet had slipped tightly between her thighs and as she tried to straighten her body, pressed hard and cold against her clit. As the dream faded, replaced by harsh reality, Faith made her hips stop rubbing her pubis against it. The comforting foot was replaced by the ever present punishment collar.
Faith panted as she came down from the orgasm the dream inspired and the chain caused. No, she was not like them. She would never feel safe and happy here. She wanted to go home.
Faith curled up miserably, trying without success to ignore the stench of sweat, dirt and old urine. She tried to go back to sleep. She tried to forget. She failed miserably. As early morning started to dimly lighten her now isolated cell, the board was moved. Faith stiffened and waited. The fuck would she get up and happily accept the bit and lash. She would stay in this ball forever and to hell with what happened.
Chapter 23
Aya watched through a small gap in the bars as the large guard blitzed the girl, rushing at her and striking her hard, punching her in the stomach, knocking the air from the girl, grabbing her hair and lifting her to her knees and then slapping her face hard knocking her back down again, limp and stunned. The large guard quickly tied Faith facing the bars, her back and ass exposed. He lifted her high enough that her feet were off the ground . He began to punish her, systematically beating he with his open hands, using them like massive paddles, the cracks loud and relentless. At first Faith was silent, then soft grunts and yelps began to leak from her lips. But when the guard untied one of her wrists and flipped her over and retied her facing out, and removed the collar, she began to curse and threaten, but her voice was frightened and panicked.
The guard gave her an enraged look and slapped her face hard several times, rocking the girl and shocking her to silence and then began to work his way down her body, slapping her breasts over and over, then moving down her body, making sure that no part of her was not aching and stinging from his blows. When he began to brutally slap her pelvic mound and then brought his hand up between her legs, Faith began to sob and plead, begging for him to stop. The huge guard completely ignored her pleas and continued to rain blows upon her body. Faith was twisting and screaming trying to avoid the pain when she said the word Aya had been waiting for. Faith had screamed, “Help!”
Instantly Aya was there, pulling the guard back, her words loud and harsh, “What are you doing? This girl belongs to the Master! Stop!” At first the guard looked at her confused but then a light of understanding came into his eyes and he dropped his hand and looked at her, feigning rage, breathing hard.
Faith hung limp and sobbing, Aya could see that she would be covered with bruises, but it was clear that the guard had been careful to not mark her face. Before Faith could catch her breath or think Aya touched her face and crooned, “Little slave, are you all right?”
Faith froze and looked at Aya, confusion, fear and hate clear in her eyes. But she did not pull away. An angry growl rose up in her throat, “Fuck no, I am not all right.” Her voice was strangled squeak, and she began to cough. Aya held a small water bottle to her lips and crooned, “Drink.” Faith did not hesitate, she desperately sucked the bottle and when Aya pulled it away after only a couple of swallows, the girl whim
pered, “More, please.”
Aya gently stroked her face, “More please, what?”
Faith’s eyes narrowed and she clenched her teeth and turned her face away. Aya did not speak again only put the batteries into the collar and held it up. “Little slave, is there anything you wish to say before I put this back on you?”
Faith looked at the water and a tiny sob broke from her lips and then she pressed her lips together and shook her head. Aya shrugged and put the collar on. “Okay then, time to remember to be silent.”
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