The Slave of Lidir Page 12

  "Open your eyes, my dear," the Taskmistress said softly. "See what your Taskmistress has in store for one so delectable as you." Anya's eyelids felt heavy with desire; Ildren's face appeared at first hazy and indistinct, but it was evident that she was holding something black. Then Anya's eyes widened in dismay - it seemed the Taskmistress had in her hand a kind of plug, that evil thing in which the cook had taken such delight by having it applied in so cruel a manner to the male slave.

  "No, no ..." she began, for she was rather frightened, though it was true that this device was in certain ways quite different to the ones that Cook had ordered to be used.

  "Shh ..." Ildren tried to calm her, "this is purely for a woman's private pleasure. It can bring delight in many ways; I do assure you that you shall find this plaything interesting." And Ildren held it horizontally, so that Anya might assess it. It was fashioned after the likeness of a man's flesh-stick, complete with fleshy bumps, but it was smoother than a man would be and certainly more polished, and perhaps a little smaller. It looked like it was made of wood; the curve was slightly upwards; the undersurface at the top was flattened, so the end seemed to form a smooth round-pointed triangle.

  "I could push it very gently into you," the Taskmistress suggested. "Either this way round," and she inverted it so the bumps were uppermost, "or this way, if you would prefer it." Then she twirled the rounded point against the pad of her finger. "There are several ways of utilising an instrument such as this one. Here, let me demonstrate ... No, you will like it, I assure you, besides which, this shall be a tiny sample only of this pleasurable delight." And Ildren very deftly fitted that flat triangular point of rounded pleasure underneath the hood of Anya's flesh-lips, so it pressed against her bud. Then she made Anya wet her lips and form her mouth into a very small "o', and Ildren pushed her tongue in and out of that tightened fleshy circle while she very gently turned the point to and fro inside the hood, until Anya's sex was squirming with delight.

  "You see - I'm sure your flesh nub likes it, don't you?" Ildren held the hood back and very lightly tapped that nubbin with the wooden point, three times in a row. "Speak to me, my tiny fleshy darling, give Ildren some little sign of your delight and pleasure." Anya was burning up with shame. The bond-girl moved once more in the background. Ildren tapped Anya several times in quick succession. She felt that she would burst at any second; the pleasure in that special spot was so exquisite. Ildren very carefully worked the point around the stiffly poking pip and back again, then tapped it once again, but this time much more rapidly. "Speak to me, my pretty ..." Anya felt her pip pulsate. "Ah ... that is so much better. Ildren loves to see a woman's nub enjoy its little self."

  She stood up again. "Now let me demonstrate, by proxy as it were, a second application of this tool ..." and then she raised her voice, "... with our nervous friend over there, whose constant shuffling seems to require the Taskmistress's corrective attention." The bond-girl now went very still and silent. "Excuse me just one moment." After making sure her flesh lips were opened out quite fully, Ildren left Anya still in her state of burning while she went over to the girl and muttered something, whereupon the girl went very stiff. The Taskmistress then released the bondslave's ankle restraint and began edging her feet away from the wall, which turned out not to be effective with the slave's middle attached, as it was, quite firmly to the wall. Ildren edged the golden waistband up the slave as far as it was possible to do so, then again moved the girl's feet back, and also now, apart. The girl's body appeared to hang, since her left wrist was still attached to the ring above her head, and the chain about her middle was now pressing up and underneath her breasts, preventing further movement; her back was very strongly arched, and by this arrangement, her bottom was pushed out sharply, which quite possibly had been Ildren's intention all along. The Taskmistress now patted this tightly curving and slightly spread bottom, so invitingly presented, as if the bondslave were a beast which had performed well and pleased its rider. She left the girl in this position and returned to Anya, whose pleasure was now no longer quite so imminent, and whose arms were beginning to ache.

  She made Anya hold back her head, so she faced up to the ceiling, and then push her tongue straight upwards, whilst Ildren dangled the device vertically above her and simultaneously tickled her between the legs. With her head in this position, the leather thong pressed more tightly into Anya's join; it made her flesh leaves throb as they engorged more fully.

  "Reach up, my sweet, with your tongue, and touch it to the tip ... Do it very nicely ... There ..." said Ildren, and Anya shivered with delight for Ildren had tickled her nubbin precisely at the moment that her tongue had touched the rod. "Touch again, my darling - arch that naughty tongue into a point, and this time, touch it very lightly." Ildren raised the wooden cockstem so Anya had to stretch to reach it. And once again, the tickling tip of Ildren's finger brushed very lightly up against her. "Good. You do that very sweetly. Now, pretend it is a tongue that tickles you in between the legs ... my tongue. Would you like it if my tongue were to lick around your nubbin? Hmmm? To stroke it and make it very stiff? Now pretend. Close your eyes and reach ... there ..." Anya shivered once again. "Was that very nice?" Anya was slowly liquifying inside. She felt her nectar start to drip. It seemed the Taskmistress could surely do with her exactly as she wished. At that moment Anya wanted to beg that woman to keep touching her, really to lick her, until her pleasure burst against that woman's tongue.

  "Now, wet your lips and pout them. Good." She pushed the cockstem in. "Pretend it is the Prince's flesh now entering your mouth." Those carefully chosen words of Ildren's caused a peculiar feeling deep in Anya's belly. "Show me how you would welcome the Prince very fully in your mouth." Ildren now released her hold upon the stem and held Anya's head back further with one hand while, with the other, she slowly opened Anya and pushed her fingers in. Anya wanted to open out so those fingers could push right up into her belly, and deep inside her womb. "There - swallow him, my child." The cockstem filled Anya's mouth and almost blocked her throat; she was gagging. And yet Ildren's words and slippery probing fingers had seduced her, for she was imagining it was indeed the Prince that filled her mouth and opened her with his hand. And now, she wanted the Prince's lips and tongue to close around her bursting pip of hard and polished pleasure, and to suck it till it split and released that sweet intoxication very softly into his mouth.

  The stem and fingers were withdrawn, glistening. Ildren smiled. "Your Prince is very pleased my love, with your well-controlled exertions." She sucked her fingers. "Your Prince delights in your honeydew, which you, in your love for him, have secreted." Anya was so ashamed, now that she knew she had been tricked into this very lewd display for Ildren's sole amusement; she hated Ildren for casting herself in the Prince's role, for usurping his position, and thereby cheapening Anya's secret admiration for his noble self. It seemed the Taskmistress took evil delight in rendering heartfelt feelings worthless.

  "Let your Taskmistress now demonstrate for you that ... other application." Ildren's eyes half closed in wicked pleasure before she turned and went over to where the bond-girl was still tethered with her bottom angled outwards and her legs still spread apart. Ildren knelt. The cockstem, wet with Anya's spittle, caught the light as Ildren, spreading the slave-girl's bottom cheeks, fitted the tip precisely to that inner mouth and carefully twirled it as she encouraged the girl to lickerishness, saying loudly enough for Anya to hear:

  "Spread, my darling, let your tight and tiny mouth kiss and suck this stem, as if it were the Prince's. Show the Prince how you would draw his swelling deep inside your body. There ... You do this very sweetly. The Prince loves the way your soft warm flesh closes round him as he slips inside you ... There, you see, he likes to have his bag press firmly up against your cheeks ... Now, milk him very gently ... The Prince would like to touch you now, between the legs. He loves that special part of you. Ask him now to do it, if it pleases him." The bond-girl muttered something indistinct.
"And shall you make your little cockstem stand up for the Prince? Hmmm, my precious? So he can feel it between his fingertips, to test your heartbeat in its pulsing?"

  Anya wanted to close off her ears. She hated this woman now for subjecting her to this second degradation, by forcing her to witness the bond-girl's seduction and delight, while Ildren continued to take the Prince's name in vain.

  "And will you promise now to take your pleasure with the Prince moving deep inside you? You must cry out very loudly when your pleasure comes. Is that clear?" Then Ildren whispered something to the girl, something which she must not have wanted Anya to overhear. The Taskmistress's fingers slipped between the bond-girl's legs; the bond-girl's hips began to move at first in a slow erratic circle, then back and forth, as Ildren's other hand, with very slight but deliberate movements, worked the wooden stem inside her until the bond-girl's legs went stiff, and she lifted on her toes, as if reaching up and outwards with her bottom. She stayed like that for quite some time, with tiny tremors rippling through her back and hips, after which, still balanced on her toes, she went completely rigid. The only sound was her very steady panting; the only movement was Ildren's, who very leisuredly pulled the cockstem out of her and pushed it in again, while she worked that hand between those legs, until the girl suddenly caught her breath and pushed violently against the stem to take it fully in, screaming "Take me ... my Prince," and ground her hips as Ildren slowly turned around and smiled a smile of evil triumph at Anya, who felt completely drained of all emotion now, and was very pale indeed.

  Ildren kissed the bond-girl very delicately in the small of her upturned lower back and left the cockstem in her.

  Now she was back in front of Anya, and was smiling very sweetly. "There, you see, a simple thing like this can provide many little comforts." She lifted Anya's chin, for Anya did not wish to look upon so horrible a person. "Would you like to try it in that special place yourself? Hmmm?" Ildren was standing very close to Anya, so her soft velvet robe was brushing Anya between the legs. "Look into my eyes, my sweetness. Let me search your soul ..." The velvet kept brushing up against the tender openness of Anya's sex, still widely spread, as the Taskmistress had earlier left her. "What secret needs lie buried deep, so deep you cannot know them ...? What precise and calculated ministrations shall your body yet require? Your Taskmistress has many ways of eliciting your pleasure, and prolonging your desire. Trust in me, and you shall know no shame, for I shall yet deliver you to pleasures so protracted and exquisite that you shall feel that you are dying of delight."

  Anya's cheeks were filled once more with colour, for she felt that the Taskmistress could indeed in some way see inside her heart and soul, could glimpse that inner self, that private lust, that burning at her core. "Now, push out your tongue, as a sign that you accept your fate as I have now decided," crooned Ildren. Although Anya hated this woman, and was filled with fear, still her body felt a longing for that taste of pleasurable delectation, those forbidden transports of desire, which it seemed that Ildren now was offering. She pushed out her tongue - she ventured down that path of sweet complicity - and as she did so, Ildren's fingers closed very lightly around that fleshy hood between Anya's thighs.

  "Push further, my precious, that I may tell your depth of wanting ... Mmm, yes ... Let that tip of lust poke up." Anya closed her eyes and pushed her tongue out very far indeed, whereupon Ildren's lips closed gently around the tip and sucked it, while her fingers tightened the hood about that other tongue, in a long slow pull which elicited a tiny stifled cry of pleasure, of the kind which Ildren - whose lips sucked tighter, so they held that shivering tasting tip of flesh a prisoner - found so very endearing in a woman she had earmarked as a special lover.

  Anya was oiling at this woman's touch, this woman that she hated, this woman that gave her so much pain, and fear, and shame, and such exquisite pleasure - this woman to whom she would give herself, against her hate, this woman that she wanted now to take her, to show her all those secret luscious fleshly ways of love of which she was the mistress.

  Ildren spread those liquid leaves of Anya's flesh more widely while, still sucking on that tongue, she let her fingers trace the tight embedded thong which pressed against and into Anya, as if she wished to feel the young slave's tension in that strip of tautened leather. The fingers touched the sensitive skin of Anya's groin and, pushing harder, forced themselves below the leather. Then Ildren took it like a bowstring - her fingers took the strain and lifted it away from Anya.

  Ildren now released Anya's captive tongue, so she could ask of her a wickedly delicious favour. "Your Taskmistress ..." her breathing was shallow, as if Ildren was almost too excited to say it. "Your Taskmistress," she began again, "would wish to fit ... to fit this bowstring now precisely to your parting." Anya gasped. "She would do this very gently, so the -" her breath caught, "so its cutting pressure would be brought to bear very slowly, yet of necessity very fully, on your tight and pleasure-polished nubbin." Anya shook her head; she knew she could not bear it. "It shall be so brief a pain that it shall be ... a pleasure." Anya shook her head again. "Yes - your Taskmistress shall do it to you - for a count of ten. Now brace yourself against this sweet cutting ache of pleasure." Anya knew that now she could not escape it; she tensed and closed her eyes tight shut and bit her lip and waited.

  The tightness of the leather touched her very firmly, but Ildren did not release it yet. She stroked it from side to side across the stiff, projecting pip, sending seductive resonations up through Anya; far from making her shrink away from this tickling tautness, it made her want to press herself against it and have it rub more rapidly across her nubbin. "Is this pleasure sweet, my dear, like honey dripping in your throat? Hmmm? Your Taskmistress will fix this bowstring squarely to your dart of lust ... Yes, and thereby push the point inside you. I shall fire your tiny dart of love into your flesh and thus I will transfix you. Tell me that you wish it so, that you will bear this pain to demonstrate your love and your submission to my pleasure."

  "I ..." Anya felt her heart had jumped to block her throat, at what her voice was saying. "I submit my ... my body to your pleasure, ma'am," and a delicious churning feeling followed, deep in Anya's belly.

  "My sweet and precious pet," the Taskmistress whispered huskily. "Let me count out the aching of your pleasure very slowly ..."

  Ildren released the bowstring gently against Anya, but still the tension bit - the surge of cutting pain was much too much to bear, as if a red hot needle had been pushed into the centre of her nub and, cauterising the incision, had heated up the blood inside to stretch the skin to bursting.

  "One," the Taskmistress announced with crystal clarity, as Anya's mouth opened in a scream, a scream suffocated by Ildren's kiss, which sealed her lips quite tightly, so the muffled sounds emerged subdued through Anya's nose, and appeared to Ildren's ears to be those sweet and stifled gasps that lovers make at the zenith of their pleasure. Ildren delved long and deep inside that mouth until at last her pulse was beating with such excitement that she had to gasp for breath herself. "Two," she managed, then inhaled very deeply while she used her palm to muffle Anya's moans until they had subsided sufficiently, as Anya readjusted slowly to accommodate this pain, for Ildren to remove her hand, now marked by Anya's teeth, and run it, tickling downwards, to the small of Anya's back, while the fingers of her other hand very gently closed those soft warm oily nether lips about that strip of leather, thereby sealing it, in some degree at least, inside Anya's willing body. "Three," she said, and Anya moaned once more with that stinging pressure, though this time certainly less strongly, and with very mixed feelings. Ildren kissed those soft and luscious lips once more, then said. "Four. I hope your ache is sweet enough to bear; is your pleasure quite exquisite?" And, brushing her fingertips very lightly along the length of Anya's tight-sealed fleshy leaves, she touched her tongue to Anya's and she shed her spittle into Anya's mouth; like a bird of love, she dripped her droplets of desire into her fledgling, whose mouth was s
pread so wide in need and supplication.

  "Five," she whispered, squeezing those leaves like soft damp pastry, and moulding them against the taut-stretched leather wire inside her slave. Then, using both her hands between those legs, she teased those leaves apart, to look upon the place where the strip divided Anya and pressed against her bud. "Six." Anya felt that pressure burn against her. It seemed that Ildren would cut her flesh in two. "Look down, my love, upon your parting. Watch your Taskmistress in her working of your flesh about your cord of pleasure."

  Anya watched, amid that concentrated aching, as Ildren's fingers pulled her leaves ever outwards from her body, until at last she could not bear the burning, and cried out: "Seven." Ildren was delighted to allow her slave this little transgression; she sealed those leaves and, kneeling down in front of her, she spread her own lips about them and bathed their heat in liquid from her mouth, to soothe her lover's burning. She sank her tongue in - split that fruit - and traced the line of leather upwards till she could feel her lover's pulsing at her tongue-tip. Then she released that precious fleshy fruit, that taste of salted honey, and she counted, "Eight," though to her it seemed a pity that the time was drawing nigh.