by H. A. Kotys
“Feed the bitch,” the response came, Raven’s direction for Katarina’s next ordeal.
A nod of understanding, nothing more was required. Red stopped the loop of the video and Amber followed her into the room as Raven glided out with Mela in tow.
Amber still appreciated the body that led her back into the gymnasium, they had shared some heady times. She was honed to perfection by both exercise and scalpel in the way of so many from the Golden State from which she hailed. Memories, sweet memories. Amber sensed herself already starting to question the direction she had only just decided on, and perhaps her own sanity.
The sight of Katarina curled on the floor quickly snapped Amber back to her senses, reaffirming her decision. Her catsuit was stretched tightly over the curve of her butt and beneath it, the darkening bruise beginning to show on her side would no doubt hurt. She wasn’t moving, keeping still in denial of the pain as the insert reached the end of its punishment cycle. Her long legs slowly unfurled, stretching out through a puddle of her own sweat and saliva. She had good legs; that was what she had first noticed. Yes, she would help her and perhaps, just maybe, something more.
== ~ ==
Red stood astride the latex clad girl, pausing to delight in the thought of having a woman to toy with and tease, to use and abuse in equal measure. Mistress Raven definitely had it all worked out. It was dangerous and yet thrilling to force herself on a woman who was totally unwilling.
She’d needed Amber when she had come into her life. She’d needed her surety, needed her confidence. Amber had been the bedrock on which Red had rebuilt her life after her short and disastrous marriage. God how she’d cried back then. She’d cried until she thought she could never shed another tear.
Swept along on the magical carpet of unplanned desire, Red had fallen hard for the guy before she could even take a breath. Young and with more than her fair share of foolish, she had laughingly agreed when he’d said they should head to Vegas for the weekend. That weekend she’d played out both her dream and a cliché – married him in a drive-thru chapel.
The marriage had barely lasted the drive back to the coast. Before she knew it she’d first had her arm broken, then her heart and lastly her marriage as her life imploded, followed by a thousand repetitions of ‘I told you so’.
Right then, facing life humiliated and alone, Red had vowed never again and resolutely set out, leaving a former life to fade in her rear view mirror. She just drove until she could drive no more. That night, while blankly watching the TV, the idea of her future was presented on a platter to her.
Inadvertently, she’d settled on one of those Mexican channels, a channel she didn’t even realise she was watching. Her Spanish didn’t even qualify as vacation ready, beyond ordering a cerveza, she didn’t understand much at all. It was the image that truly struck her though as a sobbing woman was cradled for comfort in the arms of another.
A woman didn’t have the same challenges as men and Red’s new start had its genesis. It wasn’t long before the courage to act was gathered and, meeting Amber by chance, she’d launched into a relationship that had helped her rebuild.
Things had changed though. She had evolved. What Amber had introduced to their bed had been the start but Red outpaced her in wanting to learn more.
Ever since that first visit to Mistress Raven, Red had known she needed more. Kerry was her birth name but that had to be left behind too as the last vestige of a former life. Total immersion was the only way to throw off the baggage of a past that still hung heavy around her neck. More visits followed until that one time when she’d paid for the full night. When she’d returned to Amber the next morning, she was full of ideas and hungry for what the striking woman named Raven had offered.
Her preparation had been intense, throwing herself into tortuous amounts of exercise to tone her body, stripping it of the puppy fat it still stubbornly clung on to. Not satisfied, and still not meeting the demands that Raven had placed on her, Red had resorted to surgery, ploughing her carefully garnered savings into the minor cosmetic enhancements Raven had demanded to win her consideration.
After a little more than a month, Raven had approved of her and would consider her as an assistant. But she desired a pair and so Red had broached the subject to Amber and their next steps together were decided.
She took the name Red after the flame of her hair. It conveyed fire, danger even and for the first time with her confidence rebuilding, she was living the stereotype of the fiery redhead. Mistress Raven had given her that, beckoning her onto the next level with the example she set.
Amber’s confidence, Red realised, was rooted in the familiarity of operating within long established boundaries. Red’s frustration laid in Amber’s reluctance to push hard past her margins. Amber had now been outgrown, purpose served, move along.
The new Red needed to keep building and she couldn’t do that bounded by what she now viewed as the conservative parameters of a convenient lover. It was time to move on, move forward and embrace her potential. Her husband had beaten her back, Amber now held her back. She needed more.
She would be Mistress Raven’s favourite, perhaps even standing by her side as an equal. The luxury of her imagined position was an inspiration. She would show Mistress Raven just what she could do and with that Red smiled down at Katarina.
== ~ ==
The scrape on the floor was out of place but Katarina couldn’t muster the energy to raise her head to investigate even as the gag was unfastened and wrenched from her mouth. It seemed as if every muscle wanted to burst out her body, probably to escape the punishments inflicted upon them. She had pushed herself hard but to no avail, she’d still lost. Endure and survive, that was it. Try to get through.
A smell of food drifted across her nostrils and Katarina noticed the pull of gnawing hunger, having not eaten properly for what felt like days. Not the warm inviting aroma of a lovingly crafted dish, this was the cold, damp smell of something more functional and certainly less appealing.
The bowl was nudged by boot before her. “Eat,” the American instructed.
Hesitantly, Katarina scooped a handful and raised it to her mouth. Half biting, half lapping, the excess trailed down her chin. It was cold, uncomfortably so, and it perfectly matched the cold in the redhead’s voice.
Unpleasant would have been a compliment to the chef and Katarina had to remind herself it was to survive. Handful after nauseating handful, she ignored the laughing encouragement from above her.
“Stop.” Katarina duly paused to see a toe dipped into the bowl, collecting a wad of the slushy mixture.
“Lick.” Her stomach turned at the sight. She needed all she could get though, needed the fuel to keep going, so Katarina licked. She used her tongue to amused laughter from the redhead above. The taste of leather registered vaguely. Pressure gradually built on Katarina’s lips, the boot pressing harder, pushing them against her teeth.
She tried to pull away to win relief from the crushing around her mouth but the hand to the back of her head pressed Katarina still harder with every sign of resistance. The foot twisted, giving her the briefest of respite before the sharp metal heel took over to press against her natural pout.
“Suck.” The command was concise and Amber bit her tongue, trying to remain mute. Katarina’s slight hesitation only resulted in the hand pressing once again. So, with little choice, Katarina parted her lips and enveloped the heel before her. Gradually it tipped forward and once at the right angle, pushed back until Katarina could do nothing but take the length further into her mouth.
She sucked it without thinking but there was no comfort for her there, no reward of sweet fluids, only the harsh edge of a stiletto heel that could easily cause harm if she flinched.
Humiliation and sex were their mantra. The gooey substance oozed gradually down Katarina’s face before sliding to the floor with a dull plop. She had been through so much, been stripped of so much of the pride and dignity she had carried into her photo sho
ot. Now she simply endured, distancing herself as best she could from the compelled actions of her body while the boot smeared her face with more mush.
And she would endure, she reminded herself. Perhaps find a way to enjoy? The new thought jostled for prime position within Katarina’s confused mind. So she sucked now, working Red’s heel as she would a male lover, buying herself time, tongue searching for enjoyment.
The heel moved in and out, symbolically fucking Katarina’s mouth before withdrawing completely. Before she had chance to draw breath, Katarina’s face was plunged into the next bowl and she floundered as the water gushed up her nose. Held firmly in place, she struggled, ineffectually beating the booted leg that pressed against the back of her neck and held her there until her lungs screamed for air.
“Enough! Let her up!” Amber’s hand shot out to grab Red. The smack of the back of a gloved hand was the response and Katarina flinched, seeing the blonde woman stagger to one knee next to her.
It was indeed enough though and Red withdrew to stand over the two women, one smokily naked beneath her transparent latex catsuit, the other in burgundy leather, on one knee before the woman who had struck out.
Katarina looked at the blonde and the blonde looked right back. Amber’s chest heaved, splaying the zipped top of her catsuit as she poised, paused, ready to strike back.
A change of heart or the presence of mind to hold until a more opportune moment? It was difficult to tell but, as if sensing the futility of that moment, Amber’s head bowed in submission before her aggressor, allowing the blood in her mouth to pool and run down her chin.
In that moment pained eyes had met for the first real time. Partners in frustration, they shared one of those connections that endure beyond adversity.
The battle would not be fought today. This was not the time, not here, not now, not with Katarina so vulnerable. Amber’s mind sprinted through options, striving to justify her inaction.
“Good girl,” the American cooed, crashing into the confusion of thoughts spinning within the Australian woman’s head. Red was clearly aware of the torment within her former lover, she felt truly alive and for the first time since the quagmire of her divorce, she felt in control.
She felt free and unburdened from her usual guilt. If only Mistress Raven could see her now. Red stood dominating the scene, Raven would surely be impressed.
Red had seen the flash of lust in Amber’s eyes. She clearly still attracted her and that thrilled Red even more. She understood now how Mistress Raven felt, understood the intoxicating allure of her dark world completely.
A scene to be committed to memory, Red slowly unzipped the side pocket in her catsuit. Removing a sealed bag, she carefully opened it, unable to stop her smile. Taking out a cloth, she tipped the contents of the bottle onto it. Yes, she would be impressed, and clamping it firmly over Katarina’s nose and mouth, she enjoyed the initial struggles before the chloroform edged deeper, pushing Katarina’s consciousness aside.
CHAPTER XXVI – Afternoon T
Katarina woke to a melodic concerto of birdsong. The poetic beauty warmed her soul while the sun warmed her within her comprehensive latex covering. It was uplifting, welcoming and spirited her to happy childhood days in summer meadows. Picnics by the river were richly treasured memories and she held them as beacons of light in her otherwise darkening world.
She tried to roll onto her side to see if she could see the birds, she always liked watching them, but the sharp jab of pain in her hip restricted her movement and ropes stretching her arms out at 90 degrees grew taught, yanking back both her body and mind.
It was beyond warm actually, it was hot. She was lying face up, and thanks to the latex, felt like she was boiling in her own sweat. Midday? No, Katarina guessed it to be a little later, though there was no real way of telling exactly how long she had slumbered under the effects of the chloroform that thumped a beat in her head.
Feeling gradually returned to the extremities of her body. She became aware that she was bound on the grass, arms wide, legs stretched out but roped together. Her socks and trainers had been removed and she lay slowly cooking in the hot sun. She should have drunk more but with her head held underwater by Red, her sole thought had been survival - no doubt they would say she had her chance.
They were dormant, for now, but Katarina could feel the inserts still there and she couldn’t quite ease the discomfort as they nudged together every time she breathed.
The birdsong now seemed to taunt her, joyously free in contrast with her captivity. God it was hot. A shadow gave her some relief, creeping across her pinned body to temporarily offer respite from the burning heat. Welcome, soothing, Katarina opened her eyes with a thankful smile only to be met with an unmistakable silhouette that drove away any warmth. The page boy haircut, the dark unfeeling eyes, the figure to die for. It was Mistress Raven.
Not the dread she had expected, Katarina’s emotions this time pirouetted a strange dance as fear and loathing mingled. There was a bizarre hit of excitement too but then this woman was her life. Katarina instantly slapped the thought down.
Perfect. That was how she looked with her makeup just so and expensively tailored suit. It struck Katarina as an anachronism. She bound in see-thru latex while her tormentor towered over her dressed as if ready for some kind of executive lunch.
Little did Katarina know just now close she was in that thought. Mistress Raven glanced at her watch. She had time before the lawyer showed up, just enough, and Raven crouched beside her victim.
A manicured hand slid beneath Katarina’s still heavy head, cradling it gently as she leant down to place the sweetest of kisses. So beautiful. The thought didn’t appall Katarina as it should and she responded with a slight parting of her lips.
Cherry, or was it strawberry? It could have been either as the tongue pressed into Katarina’s mouth. A hand trailed down her taught body before resting on the head of the phallus still deep inside, pressing gently in reward for the returned kiss.
The lips withdrew and, instinctively, Katarina followed. “You want more, my pretty whore?” Raven pressed the rubber phallus once again as she whispered. At first a hesitant nod and Raven ushered Katarina further. “Say it girl, say it for me,” her tone hinting at the potential rewards it would bring.
Katarina pressed her head upward, reaching for those lips, wanting another taste. “Say it! You know what I want to hear.” The voice came again, more authoritative, less chance for denial. She needed those lips, needed that tenderness and in an outpouring of emotion Katarina stammered about wanting more. She didn’t respond though. Katarina’s mind raced. What did she want? What did she really want? And the then realisation struck her.
They were words that Mistress Raven had longed for. Offered voluntarily, they meant so much more than just five words strung together. “Mistress Raven is my life.” The whispered, almost apologetic tone was enough for now. No kiss for her though, need was always a weapon to wield and Raven rose with a smile, the girl realising that she was unquestionably hers.
== ~ ==
It felt as though a dam had burst, spilling its contents to sweep away all before it. “Mistress Raven is my life.” It had been so logical to say, so natural, that Katarina wondered why she had fought it so hard. Forced or otherwise, Mistress Raven, she of the brutal beauty, was her life. As the stiletto was presented to Katarina’s lips, she placed a respectful kiss on the very tip.
== ~ ==
Seconds merged into minutes and longer as the sun edged round to boil more of Katarina’s staked-out body. Mistress Raven had long gone, effortlessly gliding across the lawn in heels that would trip anyone less-skilled and Katarina was left with the thought of the kiss and what she had said.
The squawk to her right rocked her out of her reflections and an exploratory peck jabbed into her thigh. She kicked out but was unable to move. Thankfully her associated shout did the job, causing the carrion bird to realise its mistake and flap away to safety.
Vi
sitor number two though was the one that ignited Katarina’s panic. Buzzing was what first caught her attention as the fly zipped around, gaining courage to come closer as it flitted in repetitive circles. The sweet smell had caught on the wind and had drawn the fly inexorably toward her. It wasn’t long before it swooped, alighting on Katarina’s lips before lifting away again having sampled the sugary taste.
It soon returned, happy with the appetiser and wanting more. It landed on her cheek before darting toward her tightly pursed lips still shining with the sweet traces of the lips of Mistress Raven. The tickle of six minutely haired feet was exasperating but the arrival of the second then the third risked driving Katarina to madness. She now understood the true intent of those kisses as visitor after visitor swooped down from the gathering swarm that billowed around her head.