Rylee learned there would be three days of celebration before their clan traveled back to the western camp. The days were a series of meetings between the men, and gossiping encounters between the women.
Carlton exited the tent and tapped Rylee on the head. She rolled to a stand, causing her large breasts to wobble a little, and she gasped at the added strain. She followed behind him with her eyes lowered and her fingers once more rubbing the end of her braid. He led her to the clearing at the edge where the patriarchs sat in the evenings, and had her kneel facing him.
Steven and Brian showed up and sat on either side of him. Rylee glanced up at Steven, and caught him staring at her before he quickly looked away. A warm, constricting cramp resulting in a moist heat surprised her, and she lowered her eyes in confusion. It occurred to her, that for some reason, the crueler of the twins seemed to elicit an aroused response from her.
The men were talking about crops and supplies that they traded to each other. It was rather boring, and Rylee let her mind wander to thoughts of possibly being allowed to go to the pond later, and meeting the slaves from the east. She had seen Hank, but not her mother or Cass. In the midst of her musings, Carlton reached down a hand and popped the snaps on the harness. Rylee began crying quietly before the pain hit, and hissed when the blood filled her breasts. He pinched one sensitive nipple and she shrieked, but remained kneeling and clenching her hands behind her. “Girl.”
“Yes, Master,” she trembled.
“Go back to your Mistress and tell her I want the other harness and the chains.”
“Yes, Master.” Rylee rose and kept her eyes lowered as she made her way across the camp. She dreaded the thought of returning to kneel before him with the torturous exposing strips. Emmy was laughing with the other women, with her legs spread and Brenda’s head locked between her thighs. All the women were relaxing with their slaves attending them, and Rylee saw Cass with her mother kneeling in front of her across the gathering.
She informed Emmy what Carlton wanted, and Emmy excused herself and hiked up her jeans. Emmy followed her to the blankets, and she stood still while Emmy attached the rigging. Thick juices were already shining on Rylee’s thighs by the time she returned to the Master. He ordered her to kneel facing the group, and her face turned red while she spread her thighs with the straps from the lower harness holding her lower lips open. She knew the men could see the involuntary pulsing of her pussy as the vibrator did its unrelenting job of trying to force a climax she was not given permission to have.
The discussion quickly turned to Carlton’s slave, and Rylee held back tears at the crude remarks and descriptions of her body’s aroused responses. The men talked with admiration about Emmy’s talent for displaying his slave with such attention to his pleasure.
“I thought you were crazy when you picked the girl last summer, though her mother was adept enough. Obviously, you saw something in her that I missed,” Aaron said.
“She has handled her training well, and even with the unfortunate adverse setback, she has rebounded nicely.” Carlton looked down at the little bottom clenching desperately. “Girl, lie down and relieve yourself before you explode,” he chuckled.
“Yes, Master,” she gasped. As embarrassing as it was, and even without the threat that she would be severely punished if she disobeyed, Rylee quickly turned, lay down on the grass and lifted and spread her knees. She found herself feeling most humiliated at the thought that Steven would be watching her debase herself in front of the strangers. Her fingers worked to bring herself to a climax that relieved most of the pressure of her demanding sex, and the crevice of her bottom tickled with the copious amount of cream that discharged from her channel.
Almost immediately the need built again and she chanced another climax, hoping she would not be punished. It took a moment to realize that the men had resumed their discussions, and the Master seemed content to allow her to lie in front of him and masturbate continuously. After four, he stopped her, remembering the doctor’s warnings. He snapped his fingers and she struggled to kneel. Carlton pulled her forward and her hips rocked slightly while she unzipped him. She worked his cock into her mouth and lavished it with the attention she wished she could show her denied pussy. The sound of other slaves slurping their Masters aroused her attentions further, and she heard the boys ask for permission to return to the quarters.
In the afternoon, Emmy let Rylee and Brenda walk down to the pond. The young woman was very quiet and had a constant haunting sorrow in her eyes. Rylee felt bad for her, and finally said, “I’m sorry about your Master.”
“Thank you. This is such an unusual society they have created up here, but I was lucky to find someone who cared for me. When Jeffrey first suggested trading me, I was afraid and begged him not to make me leave the camp. The more I thought about it, and the times I had with Mark, it would have been difficult to have another Master there,” she replied.
“Jordon will be lucky to have you. I don’t think any of them realized how sick his wife was and how much he had to endure to care for her and try to hide it from his sons,” Rylee said. The women slowly trudged into the cold water.
“So, she finally passed?” Brenda asked.
Rylee stopped, and Brenda turned around and looked at her questioningly. “You don’t know what happened?”
“I heard rumors that a patriarch had brought his sick wife to the clinic, then someone said she died,” Brenda answered.
“She killed herself. She had dementia that was getting worse and Jordon wouldn’t leave her, so she killed herself so he would be free to go. I don’t think she wanted him to see her decline any more than she had.” Rylee watched the girl’s eyes widen in surprise.
“How awful for him. Was she bonded or clan?” Brenda asked.
Rylee looked at her in confusion. “She was his wife.”
“Most of the patriarchs are clan,” Brenda agreed. “Phillip and Arianna seem to get on well, though.”
“What are you talking about? Arianna is Phillip’s wife,” Rylee informed her.
“You don’t know?” Brenda could tell by the girl’s expression she had no idea about the structure of the relationships. “Arianna is a slave. My guess would be that she was probably Jordon’s, at one time.”
Rylee’s mouth dropped open, and she thought about how docile Arianna appeared beside her husband.
While they walked deeper into the water, Brenda continued. “The clan is very careful to keep the bloodline relatives distant, and they even have to ask the patriarchs for permission to marry so the ancestry can be checked. Still, they have to add new blood, so occasionally a Master bonds with a slave… like me and Mark. His clan wife had died also, so he was in his late sixties by the time I was with him and it wasn’t a question of having children.”
“I never thought about that stuff. This whole structure up here is confusing to me. I mean, I see them treat their family just like we do. But, they think nothing of stealing people and abusing and torturing them.”
“The only slaves that really get tortured are the ones that are sent north. I guess there is a difference in the sadistic streak they inherit. It seems the Masters and Mistresses who need more torturous experiences for arousal always make their way up here. It’s not something they stand for in the other camps,” Brenda said.
“They certainly don’t mind torturing me,” Rylee said angrily.
“You may consider it torture, but to them it’s all just arousing foreplay. I bet your Master or Mistress would get really angry if they thought someone was trying to hurt you.”
Rylee thought about their response to what Alma had done in the shed. It was true that everyone was angry with Alma, and she remembered the care she had received afterwards. The recognition of what Brenda was telling her really sank in when she remembered Steven’s reaction to Brian when he had upset her with innuendo in the garden, for no purpose other than to rattle her. In a hushed voice, she said, “Don’t they realize how cruel their demands are?
”
Brenda countered, “And isn’t some of it beginning to turn you on?” She noticed Rylee’s uncomfortable expression, and knew she had hit a nerve. “It took a long time for me to admit to myself, that their games and devices scared the hell out of me but I also had the most intense sexual responses I had ever experienced. That’s the difference between being bonded and being a clan wife… the games continue with us, and a clan wife is inbred with the sadistic streak the families brought over from Europe.”
The girls dunked and rinsed their hair, and Rylee came up sputtering, “But Arianna has a slave.”
“No, Phillip has two slaves, and although Arianna fulfills the role of wife, he works the slaves together. I had a similar situation with Mark until the last year, when I was actually given permission to tell the girl what to do with the house and garden because I was so busy taking care of the Master. Come on, Rylee, we’d better head back.” Brenda walked from the water with Rylee trailing behind her, lost in the overwhelming information Brenda had given her.
When they approached the tent, they heard Emmy and Cass talking, and Brenda grabbed Rylee’s arm to hold her back so they could eavesdrop. “No Emmy, she can’t take it. She was so upset last time that she shook the whole next day when I got near her, and I was afraid she was going to shut down on me. The woman is a good cook and great in the garden, and more than agreeable to good sexual responses with Hank and me, and I don’t want to lose her. I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to risk putting her and her daughter on display unless Carlton orders it.”
Brenda and Rylee walked hesitantly into the tent, and Rylee was surprised at the sight that she took in. Her mother was kneeling by Cass’ leg with her head turned into the woman’s thigh. Cass’ jeans were soaked from her tears, and the Mistress was stroking the top of her head protectively. Rylee was surprised at the relief that washed through her to know that Cass and Hank were somehow not willing to push her mother’s fragile limits.
Cass looked up at them as they entered, and said to Emmy, “Use them. It will be just as entertaining.”
“Brenda is not her mother, and she’s just recovering from her own tragedy,” Emmy replied.
Brenda, with twelve years in the camp, ten spent with Mark, quickly figured out the situation and understood the kneeling sobbing woman was Rylee’s mother, and then figured out the rest of the discussion. She hesitantly said, “Mistress?”
Emmy turned. “Yes, Brenda?”
“It might satisfy the Master if the mother had to simply watch her daughter displayed with another woman,” she suggested.
Cass broke in, “The girl is right, Emmy, and I promise you the mother will be every bit as distraught to have to witness the act.”
Emmy rubbed her temples. As Carlton’s wife, she had thought her portion of the display to show how well she worked her slave had been settled. It was obvious that Cass was determined not to let her use the mother unless she wanted to risk her sister’s anger by having Carlton order it. She looked up at Brenda.
Brenda had watched the vicious contest between the patriarchs’ wives before, and remembered many of the most arousing displays. “Mistress, with your instruction this afternoon, I’m sure the girl and I can perform most admirably, and with the addition of the mother watching…”
Emmy sighed and looked at Rylee. “I promise you, girl, if Carlton is not pleased, I’ll order your mother for a second act.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Rylee gushed. She would do anything to keep her mother from being further distressed.
When Carlton returned to the tent, he was delightfully surprised to see the two slaves lying naked on the blanket, writhing in desire while Emmy stood over them and guided the action. He sat on a chair, put his black hat in his lap and ran his fingers through his long wavy hair. Emmy caught the move out of the corner of her eye, and told him what happened with Cass.
Carlton looked down at the women and rubbed his crotch. “I assure you, Emmy, this sight is most pleasing, and quite an unexpected pleasure to walk in on.”
Rylee was going insane with passion, and in her mind she was screaming at Brenda for suggesting the torturous liaison. It was worse knowing tonight’s exhibition would be even more intense. Finally, the women were allowed a quick release, and after dinner they were ordered to rest in preparation for their public display.
While they were walked to the patriarchs’ clearing, Rylee began to tremble and wondered if she could go through with it. There was no other choice, as she would face punishment and the certainty that her mother would be humiliated. When she glanced at Brenda, she saw her jaw set in determination… and an aroused excitement in her eyes.
The other patriarch slaves were worked first, suffering denied climaxes, some were shown to stand with feet planted while they were caned, some showed their abilities to satisfy their Masters and Mistresses… nothing came close to what Emmy had in mind, and Rylee felt the cramp of her pussy and building moisture, and finally admitted Brenda’s truth to herself. The thought of the repulsive act aroused her.
Emmy had her slaves kneel on the grass facing each other, and laid the various devices beside them. Rylee quickly glanced around the circle of anticipating onlookers, and her eyes fixed for a moment on Steven’s excited stare. She quickly looked back at Brenda, and in silent agreement they began, with Cass explaining it was Rylee’s mother kneeling next to them, handing them the devices.
Marcy’s eyes were already shedding tears at having to facilitate her daughter’s humiliation, and Rylee whispered, “It’s okay, mom. I’m fine. You just do what they asked.”
To the delight of the audience, Marcy moaned, and then she handed a harness to each of the slaves. Brenda leaned forward, and Rylee felt her tongue searching to pass her lips. She closed her eyes and tried to let herself float into the tenderness. Following Brenda’s lead, she cupped the woman’s breasts and they slowly applied the harnesses to each other. Cass had lent Marcy’s matching straps and equipment to Emmy.
After the harness were secured, the women reached for the torturous little nooses, and suckled and nipped the other’s nipples until they were stiff enough to secure before the painful swelling of their mounds made it too uncomfortable. That would come later.
They lay on their sides with one leg raised and bent, so the people on either side had a clear view of one of the women working the glistening folds of the other with their tongues and fingers. This was the hard part that required intense concentration to break through their building passion. They were to cum on Emmy’s demand… and not before.
By the time Emmy ordered them through their third climax, people were congratulating both her and Carlton, and Emmy was ecstatic. Her prodigies were in immense pain and sexual heat, and she decided not to press her luck. She ordered them to a kneel, which they instantly obeyed, and she was surprised when the women decided to end their tryst with another passionate kiss. If she had looked closer, she would have seen the gratitude in their eyes.
Marcy reached forward and removed the harnesses, still silently crying but comforted slightly by the look she had seen in her daughter’s eyes. The women hissed as the blood returned to their engorged flesh, and when Marcy removed the nipple nooses, the women shrieked and knelt back in pain, brushing their pussies together resulting in an unauthorized climax that screamed through the enclave. No one would ever have believed that had not been a part of Emmy’s design.
While the slaves kept up residual shudders as they knelt between the patriarch and his wife, excited congratulations were issued and Emmy blushed when some compared her to Alma’s extraordinary abilities. Emmy and Carlton let the two slaves fall into an exhausted sleep together on their blankets by their feet.
The next day, Rylee and Brenda silently followed Emmy around while she met with the various family members of the clans. Several times, she was asked if the rumors that had floated back about the slaves from the patriarchs’ display were true, and Emmy would blush with pride. Rylee stood straighter and was plea
sed she brought such admiration and recognition to her Mistress. Her mind was already besotted with her new role in which the most important requirement was to please her Master and Mistress.
The festivities that were carried out in the patriarchs’ clearing were simultaneously carried out on a much larger scale throughout the clans’ campsites. Tonight was the Quarter Master’s display, though it was indisputably presumed the north would prevail.
John simply presented women in the cages with the men’s usage, determined not to ruin his useful slaves with unwarranted punishment. The south presented some curious body alterations they had perpetrated, while the east had some unusual bindings and equipment, and then everyone settled back to watch Samson, the nickname Aaron’s slaves had given their imposing Quarter Master.
Aaron had already suggested the slaves he wanted to include, leaving a few more to Samson’s discretion. Aaron turned to Carlton and smiled. “I think you’re going to get particular enjoyment out of this.”
As with the other slaves, Rylee was permitted to raise her eyes and watch. The patriarchs knew it was advantageous for them to see what the threat of ‘being sent north’ could present to them. A pretty brunette was led forward, and Rylee heard Brian say, “Mom, isn’t that Amber?”
Whiplash! Page 15