by Sean O'Kane
The groom appeared by her right shoulder and pressed on her breasts to make her lie down. She did so just as she heard the chains rattle and cold steel touched her labia. She felt the jaws of the left clamp slide over her left, outer labia and then slowly it was allowed to close on it. Ace winced and gritted her teeth as the pressure mounted steadily and then the pain kicked in and still the clamp was closing. Her trainer was making sure she didn’t miss one single part of the experience! She gave a wordless cry as the pressure went further into the pain spectrum and she twisted her upper body. Immediately the groom reached down and grabbed a nipple, squeezing hard. Suddenly the pain was subsumed and she relaxed as waves of sensation radiated up from her sex. It was beyond pain and was pleasure so intense it was breathtaking. Vaguely she registered the second clamp closing on her right labia and was helplessly coming even as Holroyd finally let go and her labia were cruelly pinched. Then he hauled on the chains and she spurted a thick stream of juice as her lips were stretched upwards.
From then on she was kept spinning and bouncing helplessly between orgasms as her breasts were whipped by the groom and her trainer pierced her labia time and again. The jolts of sharp pain from below complementing the thuds of the flogger crashing across her trembling breasts. She was sweating and limp, rolling her head from side to side when it stopped and only very remotely was she aware that her trainer was using the needles to prise her lips open so he could slide his cock deep into her wide open vagina. To her own amazement she was capable of one more climax as he spent inside her, and then she slumped back, panting and utterly wasted.
By the time her senses cleared, Tracey had been brought to stand beside the bench and was gazing down at her with wide eyed lust. Her hands were behind her back and her legs were spread open just beside Ace’s face. The scent of her arousal filled her nostrils as she gazed at the neatly lipped, shaven cunt beside her, the lips already gleaming with discharge. Ace stuck her tongue out hopefully and heard amused laughter from the two dominants, who just went on with what they were doing. They were taking pinch after pinch after pinch of breastflesh from Tracey’s ample mounds and piercing each ridge of flesh with a needle, making a spiral pattern towards the nipple. The left breast had already been done and as Ace watched the right one was decorated to their taste. Tracey was gasping and her legs were shaking but when the groom reached down and just touched her clitoris, she was unable to hold back and came, spurting Ace’s face with her juice. Then they let her sink to her knees and ignored both girls.
Holroyd went to a rack and took down some canes and went to another to take down a few whips and then both he and the groom pulled on their trousers and left, hand in hand. Ace guessed they were heading for the trainer’s private apartment to finish off what they had begun with the slaves. She envied the groom, who was clearly going to get a thorough seeing-to. But what was going to happen to them? Were they going to be left alone for the rest of the night?
But she needn’t have worried, two of the stable’s guards entered just as Holroyd and the groom were leaving. The head groom’s breasts were complimented and played with as the men talked briefly and then the two guards were left alone with them.
They came over to the bench and Tracey was pulled to her feet roughly by a fistful of her hair.
“Boss says you’re good for an hour or two more,” one of them said.
The girls exchanged glances. They had no idea what they had done to deserve this, but if they could only think of it, they’d be sure to do it again!
The men released Ace and replaced her with Tracey, then they set about using the needles on Tracey’s flooding quim and on Ace’s eagerly outthrust breasts. And after that at long last they were allowed to sink to their knees and thank their tormentors with their mouths. Ace thought the mouthful of sperm was the best-tasting she had had in months. Then two more men came and both girls were flogged all over again before being taken; Tracey anally, Ace in her mouth. She would remember this session for a long time, but hadn’t got a clue what it was her trainer wanted her to forget. Eventually they were allowed to remove each other’s needles and perform a sixty-nine for their audience and at last she was carried back to her stall over one of the men’s shoulders and laid on the straw in the dark but as she stretched her aching and stinging body she felt his weight bear down on her and was delighted to feel him between her willingly spread legs. Her sore lips parted easily for him and he treated himself to a leisurely fuck which she was too exhausted to respond to with more than grateful submission.
The following morning, Scott took the day’s punishment session himself. He knew the last guard to fuck Ace had put her down to receive twenty-five lashes for a lack lustre performance and he wanted to inflict them himself. Ace would take no pleasure in receiving a punishment beating, she was too conditioned to be obedient and pleasing, but there would be communion of a sort between trainer and slave. They both knew that discipline had to be maintained and that meant that a slavegirl had to accept any punishment gratefully, no matter how unfair.
He saw complete understanding and acceptance in Ace’s large, dark eyes as she was fastened to the T shaped whipping post, her arms spread out along the crosspiece. And as he stepped forwards and began to lash the strong back and quivering buttocks, still bearing the fading marks of the previous night’s activity, he knew that Ace was firmly back where she belonged.
Chapter Five.
Sophie’s conversation with her parents’ lawyer in Geneva didn’t go as well as she had hoped. It proved difficult for him to devise a legal means of getting money to her within Europe without her having to put her identity on record, and it certainly couldn’t be done using ATM machines and cards. She was going to have to go once a week to a major bank in Paris and receive carefully calculated amounts of cash via a trusted intermediary, and even then he wasn’t happy.
“Of course,” he said eventually. “If you went to the States, in Texas your parents had a company there that owned a block of flats and some commercial property. It would be quite simple, once you were there, to appoint you as a director on my recommendation and you could draw a salary perfectly easily, but sadly they didn’t have any of their European property so neatly packaged.”
Sophie filed that away for future consideration, collected her first tranche of cash and booked into a slightly more salubrious hotel. Two nights later she was sitting in the bar, savouring an after dinner glass of wine and considering how she could get her hands on enough money without appearing on anyone’s radar. But after her second glass, in her mind’s eye she kept seeing Tom waving her goodbye as he set off for the airport and in the end she just let herself wonder if she would ever see him again. The hotel bar was quiet and she was sitting on a stool sipping her drink deep in thought and getting increasingly depressed when a female voice broke in on her thoughts.
“Mind if I join you?”
Sophie looked up and saw a woman in her late thirties, she guessed, smartly turned out in a simple but expensively good dress, her hair was lustrous and black and had been allowed to grow just a little too long for her age, Sophie thought, but then chided herself for being surly at the interruption and she managed a smile as the woman took the stool next to her.
“There’s safety in numbers,” the woman said after ordering a glass of red wine. “It’s still a dangerous world for pretty girls like us!” She stopped and chuckled softly. “Well like you anyway!”
Sophie smiled and tried to make some complimentary comment in return. In fact the woman was attractive with a strong face – perhaps ‘handsome’ Sophie thought might be the best word, and her figure was full but the tight dress suggested there was little fat as her outline was smoothly curved.
“Saw you in the dining room and you looked like you were unattached, like me,” the woman went on. “The name’s Martha,” she went on holding out her hand. They shook and then returned to their drinks for a few moments.
“So, what brings you to Paris on your own?” Marth
a asked eventually.
“I was with a friend to start with,” Sophie began to explain, frantically thinking of invented stories but Martha came to her rescue.
“A guy. And he’s dumped you? Hah! Just like ‘em!” she waved the waiter over and Sophie realised from the vagueness of the gesture that she must have already taken quite a lot.
“Well not really. He’s gone back ahead of me.”
Martha held out her left hand and Sophie could see the band of pale skin around the ring finger where a wedding ring should have been.
“Don’t bet on him being there waiting for you! I left my husband alone for a lousy week while I went away on business and when I got back he’d run off with some tart he met at an arena! I didn’t even know the bastard had been going to those things. So much for his business trips!”
Sophie was jolted by the mention of arenas. Here was another reason to hate the places. Her new friend Martha had been wronged by them. Suddenly she realised that she too had had slightly more than she realised. Martha seemed to have realised it too and pushed her glass away.
“Sorry,” she said, “didn’t mean to get maudlin on you. Promised myself a trip to Paris to try and get used to being single again.”
“It’s ok, and sorry to hear about it,” Sophie said and patted Martha’s knee.
“So, what have you got planned now you’re alone?” Martha asked.
“Oh, nothing really, I was just trying to think of what I can do for a job,” Sophie said evasively.
Martha burst out laughing and put an arm round Sophie’s shoulder. “You’re kidding me, right? You’re what, about six feet?” Sophie nodded. “Built like every woman would die for? More blonde hair than two women would know what to do with? You walk into a room and every man in the place is picking carpet fluff off his tongue?”
“What? When?” Sophie asked, bewildered.
“In the dining room, honey!” Martha told her. “Didn’t you see them all?”
Sophie shook her head.
“And with all that you’re trying to think of what you can do for a job??” Martha gave her rich chuckle again.
“Well I’m not doing that!” Sophie protested indignantly and Martha was all contrition immediately.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause offence and I didn’t mean hanging about the Place Pigalle. But honey, I mean your looks could open any door you chose to knock on.”
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” Sophie said and took another drink. “But I need cash in hand. Tax problems,” she lied.
“Escorts,” Martha said promptly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to – if you get a good agency – and they pay cash. Lots of it. I did it myself a few years ago.” A faraway look came into Martha’s eyes. “You reckon I could still do it?” she asked in a surprisingly nervous and insecure tone.
Sophie looked at her again, then reached out and tugged one shoulder of the dress down a little further and tugged the hemline up at the knee, then sat back.
“A bit more cleavage I think,” she said, greatly daring. Martha wriggled in her seat and hoiked up the hemline more, so that three inches of satin smooth thigh was on display and pulled at the front of the dress, squinting down as she did so.
“Yep,” Sophie said. “I reckon you’ve still got it!”
The two women grinned at each other. Martha waved the waiter over again and ordered a bottle for them to share; ‘to stop him hanging about,’ she explained. Then she treated Sophie’s clothes, a simple skirt and loose top to a scornful examination.
“Y’know,” she said at last. “I walked out on my job last week. Don’t need money but I need to spread my wings again. I’m going to find me an escort agency! You up for it?”
Sophie raised her glass in a toast. It seemed exciting and glamorous and utterly different to anything she had ever done before and she liked Martha.
Sternly Martha stood up and took the bottle off the bar. “Then we need to look at your wardrobe my dear. Urgently!”
Sophie lay and waited for her heart to stop thundering. It had been the most devastating orgasm of her life and she was dazed and confused but relaxed more completely than ever before. She had never imagined it was possible to feel such lazy contentment. Beside her the duvet mounded and Martha emerged, looking tousled but equally happy. She smacked her lips appreciatively.
“Lovely pussy! Christ, I’d forgotten how sweet we ladies taste!” She lay beside Sophie who turned to face her.
“Thanks,” she whispered and kissed Martha passionately. As she enjoyed again the feeling of soft female lips against hers and Martha’s mouth opening to allow her tongue access, Sophie realised that for the first time in her life she was tasting her own vaginal juices.
It was a thrilling thought and she plunged in with her tongue, making Martha moan with pleasure. Her right hand reached inside the duvet and met Martha’s left nipple, still hard and deliciously rubbery to the touch. And the sensation of her hand sinking into the welcoming softness of another woman’s breast ignited the fires inside Sophie all over again.
It had happened very naturally and thinking back on it later on Sophie couldn’t blame the wine beyond having relaxed her a bit more than usual. Martha had regarded Sophie’s rather tomboyish wardrobe with thinly disguised despair, and when she had admitted that she didn’t own a pair of stockings and had never worn suspenders and thought them a ridiculous garment, and then added that high heels just made her ankles sore, Martha had marched her along to her own room and thrown open a wardrobe full of the most beautiful dresses that Sophie had ever seen. But then she hadn’t ever bothered to look particularly. When she had found out about her parents’ life, she had turned her back on most aspects of femininity and concentrated on conventional sports, an academic career – anything that carried her away from the lives they had led.
Martha was fairly tall and Sophie, abandoning her usual restraint, had been able to fit into some of the outfits and looking at herself in a full length mirror, even she had to admit she looked good; especially when Martha began experimenting with putting her thick blonde hair up instead of just letting it tumble down onto her shoulders. Sophie remembered the feeling of Martha’s body pressing against her back and then she, Martha, had begun trying on different outfits herself and asking Sophie what she ought to wear for an interview with an escort agency.
Sophie had shared many gym changing rooms with naked women before but for some reason, maybe it was the different context of a hotel room, the sight of Martha’s smooth but voluptuous form clad in black stockings, lacy knickers and matching half cup bra, had a profound effect on her.
She had helped her into and out of dress after dress and various combinations of separates until it had felt quite natural to be that close to her. And then somehow it had transpired that she herself was just in bra and knickers, in between trying out some of Martha’s dresses, when Martha herself was undoing the zip on a really sexy number that she had been trying on and Sophie had suddenly been aware of the soft skin of Martha’s back against her fingers as she had helped with the zip and she had stroked the naked flesh.
Just for a second Martha had paused with the dress half pulled forwards off her shoulders.
“I haven’t worn too badly then?” she asked anxiously.
Sophie’s hand had gone on exploring of its own accord, running up and down the woman’s naked spine.
“No, no. You’re lovely. Gorgeous breasts and legs and hips…”
With an intoxicating feeling of certainty that Martha wanted her to touch her, Sophie let her hands glide out to rest on her hips. Martha let the bodice of the dress fall forwards and placed her hands on Sophie’s and gently drew them forwards so that she was embracing her from behind and her hands were now just above Martha’s delta. Suddenly Martha had twisted about and Sophie found herself face to face and breast to breast with her. Her dark eyes, dilated with excitement seemed to fill Sophie’s world and her scent flooded her head intoxicatingly
. This was so different from anything else she had ever experienced that Sophie wanted to know what came next, and whatever it was, she was sure it was going to be good.
“Look, Sophie,” Martha had whispered, her lips almost touching Sophie’s, “it’s all yours if you’d like it.”
Sophie hadn’t been able to answer and had just kissed her instead. And that first kiss, so gentle and soft, so unlike a man’s! It had blown her mind and when at last they had broken apart for a breath, she had ducked her head and kissed the top of one of Martha’s breasts – so soft, so fragrant.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Martha had breathed and they had tumbled into bed. All the deliriously wonderful groping and fumbling had climaxed with Martha finding her way down Sophie’s body until her lips had touched Sophie’s clitoris and her world had exploded.
Now they lay face to face with the heat in Sophie’s belly growing once again. There was really only one thing to do, so Sophie did it. She ducked under the duvet and into the fragrant darkness. Immediately, her face encountered the softness of breasts and she spent a happy few minutes experiencing the joy of nibbling at, and kissing, large, erect nipples and making their owner cry out in pleasure. But what really intrigued and fascinated Sophie lay farther below and after a while she slid her way down Martha’s stomach, knowing that each inch was taking her nearer and nearer the seat of another woman’s femininity, the prospect at once exciting her and daunting her. But as she neared her goal the scent of Martha’s excitement spurred her on and by the time she was nuzzling the soft pubic fuzz, she was eager to explore another woman’s vagina. The clitoris was standing amazingly proud of its hood and Sophie was certain it was much bigger than hers, but she engulfed it gently with her lips and Martha’s body jerked under her in a surge of delight. Sophie let her tongue circle and lick at the nubbin and listened for the groans of pleasure from above. Then she used her hands to push Martha’s legs wider apart and went for the main prize, the vaginal entrance itself. Sophie herself usually took most of her pleasure in sex from penetration but was aware that a lot of girls didn’t, but she knew that she just had to experience the feeling of her tongue probing deep into the soft sheath of the vagina as it exuded its juices. And Martha’s cunt certainly repaid her explorations, bathing her mouth in pungent, exciting, tangy juice while Martha herself squirmed and moaned and gripped her hands in Sophie’s hair. Then Sophie returned her attentions to the sizeable clitoris and Martha’s body locked tight and then jerked again and again as Sophie sucked, licked and rasped at it.