The Slave of Lidir Read online

  She stood and slipped two fingers into Anya, one to each side of the cord, and kissing her, she pushed until that cord cut into the web of Ildren's fingers, so she could thereby sense, in some mitigated way, that sharper cutting pleasure experienced by her slave, as the fingers worked into her more deeply and generated once again that delicious stifled moan. "Nine, my sweet. Your time of pleasuring is almost up." Her fingers, wrapping now around the cord, worked it from side to side, and in that aching working pressure on her nub, Anya gasped and moaned and threw back her head, for she knew not what she wanted now - to have it stop or go on and to burst that tormenting ache and spill her fire of lust.

  "Ten!" The pressure was released and Anya then began to sting as if a thousand tiny needles were pricking in her nubbin. "There, my darling ..." Ildren kissed and sucked her nipples and tickled Anya's belly. "You did so very well, for one so new. Your Taskmistress is pleased, and you may kiss my hand and thank me." Anya's lips were shaking, though she knew not why, as she kissed those very fingers which had penetrated her. And though her body lacked release, though her pleasure was unsatisfied, yet still she felt a strange and pleasant warmth which swelled and pulsed within her. She felt her senses were in some way heightened, so that not only could she smell Ildren's musk above her own, she could almost sense this woman's beating heart within her own breast, she could feel Ildren's smouldering sensuality which she wanted now to taste; she wanted to give this woman pleasure - not in this way, in pain and domination - but by pleasuring her body softly, in tenderness and love, if Ildren would allow it. The tingling had now subsided; Anya's sex felt warm and numb.

  "And now, your Taskmistress shall massage you, very tenderly, in your aching." Ildren produced a phial of aromatic oil and knelt once more between Anya's outspread thighs and, having checked her bonds, she dripped the oil upon her outstretched fingers. She began to work it into each crease of Anya's thighs and then, using just her fingertips around the fleshy leaves of Anya's sex, very softly palpitated them until Anya found her body welcoming that very gentle touch; her leaves went very soft indeed, under Ildren's tender ministrations. And Anya knew her warmth was seeping, slowly, and yet she did not mind at all that the Taskmistress might be aware of this signal that her body made - in fact she wanted her to witness that this gentleness was what her body now required. Ildren dripped the oil upon her nubbin, which pulsed in its appreciation as the feeling seeped back in. Ildren placed her fingertip against it, underneath the hood, and very lightly pressed against it in its oiling, then released it. Anya found that lightness now so very sweet, so very agreeable in its difference from that painful pleasure which Ildren seemed to relish.

  "Do you like this touch, my darling?" the Taskmistress whispered. Anya swallowed and she nodded, but she did not want to speak. "I can feel your tiny ball of pleasure swelling up against my finger. It feels so firm and sweet. Your Taskmistress loves to feel your pleasure in this way." Anya found the Taskmistress's words and touch were stirring her. Tiny rivulets of warmth and lusciousness were trickling down inside her to focus in that spot that Ildren now caressed. "And now you must assist me, Anya. Your pleasuring shall bring the two of us together in a common purpose." Anya now was slightly apprehensive. "Do not fear, my darling. A woman should never be afraid to explore her bodily needs. Let me untie your hands ... Anya was frightened now at what she thought the Taskmistress might make her do. "There now - how these poor arms must be aching." Ildren massaged her arms and shoulders, and then her wrists and fingers, so the blood came draining back again and prickled down her arms. "A woman's fingers are so intriguing, I always think," Ildren looked at them and mused. "I love to watch them working ..." she looked straight at Anya, "in between a woman's legs." Anya gasped, although she had half expected something of the kind. "Oh ... my dear, I've shocked you now," Ildren pouted. "Never mind ... your Taskmistress will help you; would you like that? Hmmm?"

  Then Anya was filled with shame at what the Taskmistress bade her do. "Place your fingers there, my love. Your little bud of pleasure should not be made to hide its head. It must be made to stand out proudly in its pinkness. Do it now for me, that I may look upon its lewdness and its longing." Ildren made her squeeze her fingers in behind it, whilst Ildren stroked her breasts at first, then pulled her nipples until they stood out very firmly. "I like those cherries nice and hard," she said. "Now squeeze your pip out; hold it very still for me. Mmm ... It looks so sweet like that. Hold still ..." Very carefully she reached her fingertip and scratched the nail across the surface of Anya's pushed-out, polished button, very slowly, hardly touching the skin at all, and back again, repeatedly, which set Anya's teeth on edge and sent torturing tickles to the very core of Anya's wanting. "There, you like this don't you, my darling ... this very gentle scratching at your pip." The tickling felt to Anya like a burning itch which was crying out for succour. She wanted Ildren to scratch harder and more deeply at that itch, to assuage the unbearable unremitting cascading tickling which each little stroke of nail on tautened skin bestowed in sweet delicious torture. She wanted to close her thighs against this cruel and honeyed pleasuring, yet she could not. Ildren's other hand had trapped her fingers tightly against herself, forcing her to squeeze her pip out ever harder, keeping its surface drum-tight, so the tickling might thereby resonate more deeply, more gnawingly into Anya's body.

  And yet, for all its pleasuring, that tickling was not a tickling which could bring release, for Ildren was too calculating for this to happen to her slave. She controlled the stroking, making the tickles lighter whenever Anya's breathing shallowed and her eyelids closed that little bit too languorously. She would at this stage slow Anya's pleasure, balancing her on a knife edge, which it seemed the Taskmistress would hone ever finer, but would never tip her over, and when eventually that breathing became a little more controlled, then Ildren would edge her very gently once more in the direction of her pleasure, using words of encouragement. "Would you like me next to lick my tongue around your tip, and flick it very quickly?"

  Anya's oil dripped slowly from her and trickled down the groove towards her bottom; its heavy droplets stirred and pulled her skin hairs, adding to her torment. Ildren's fingertip would pause at intervals, to gather up a liquid drop of Anya's nectar and smear it round her stiffened nub, or merely touch it to the end and pull away again, so the weighted droplet would, in its pulling, kiss and suck upon her point and kiss and pull again, repeatedly, until that droplet was dissipated and the skin of Ildren's finger, softened by Anya's oil, would touch and stroke against the skin of Anya's fleshy nub in shimmers of delight. And then the fingernail would scratch again, and start that train of tickling sharpness, making Anya drip again, until she was sitting in a cool evaporating pool of oily wetness which was spreading on the table.

  "My delicious beauty - make your honeydew for me," Ildren whispered. Taking hold of Anya's fingers, she dipped them in the pool and sucked them one by one, then taking Anya's forefinger, she dipped it once again and smeared the liquid back and forth and up and down across her pink and pulsing button, until Anya did not care that it was she who touched it, that the Taskmistress was no longer guiding Anya's hand against her body, that she was pleasuring herself quite wantonly before this woman, and that her body began to shake in rolling waves of pleasure in that precursor to her sweet relentless surge of wild abandonment.

  A hand closed tightly round her own and held it fixed, suspended above her pulsing pip, whilst Anya tried to push her hips towards it and she moaned. The Taskmistress had caught her at the very point, and in that split second had denied her that deliverance to desire.

  "Enter!" Ildren shouted, though Anya had not heard any knock.

  Anya felt so exhausted and so let down - so used - by this woman's cruel denial, that she really did not care any more. She saw the figure through weary, half-closed misted eyes, yet even so, the bulky form was quite unmistakable. Her heart leapt, and then Anya was filled instead with shame and sadness at her present state - her b
ondage and her lustful degradation.

  8

  The Pearl of Love

  "Marella - I take it you have come to collect your charge?" The Taskmistress stood and placed Anya's hands very deliberately behind her back. "You are early. We had not quite ... completed our little exercise, had we my darling?" She tickled Anya underneath the chin. "Well, never mind, my pet," she kissed her on the forehead, "we shall continue perhaps on another occasion. Would you like that?"

  Anya could only glance down and be glad that, for the present, she was escaping from this woman's cruel embrace. Ildren carefully unwound the thong from Anya's breasts, saying, "Oh, my darling - it has marked you. Was it then too tight? You should have told me ..." And she pressed and kneaded Anya's breasts until the furrows, though clearly visible still, were rather more subdued. Then she untied Anya's feet and, making her stretch out on the table, she massaged her thighs and limbs, which treatment Anya found welcome though she was well aware by now that she must never fully trust this woman. Ildren opened Anya's thighs once more, but this time to bathe her stickiness and heat with a coolly moistened cloth, and then to dab her dry with a touch so tenderly deceptive that Anya was, by virtue of experience, mildly apprehensive about the purpose of this careful preparation - about what might happen next.

  "She is to be taken to Lord Aldrid's chamber ..." Anya's heart felt as if an icy hand had closed around it, "where she will spend the night."

  "Yes, ma'am," Marella said very dutifully, as if this were an everyday assignment, as if she had forgotten her promise to Anya that she would recount to the Taskmistress the cruel abuse which Anya had been made to suffer at Lord Aldrid's hands.

  "He wishes to continue her training - which I have, on his advice, begun. Training in the art of self control ..." the Taskmistress added. Anya shivered. "... In which he found her to be lacking, though in this respect I have exacted some small improvement ..." Ildren stroked Anya's forehead. "Have I not, my sweet?" Anya merely swallowed. "Now, up and be off with you before his lordship gets impatient," said Ildren, pulling Anya to her feet.

  Marella smiled at Anya, and Anya's heart surged. It seemed that she drew strength from the warmth of this woman's simple smile. Marella reached and took her hand, and Anya felt happy, as if all the fear and pain and cruelty were somehow washed away.

  "One moment ..." The Taskmistress held up something between her finger and her thumb. "She shall require this - the pearl."

  Even Marella did not care to watch the fitting of this jewel. She turned her head aside whilst the Taskmistress had Anya lie upon the table once again and hold her knees apart.

  "Do not be afraid, my pet," Ildren tried to cheer her, for Anya was very anxious now, in this very outspread state, with the Taskmistress poised above her with an unknown, though small, device which Anya knew was destined to be applied in some way to her private self, or possibly - and she shuddered at this thought - inserted into her body. Ildren's eyes had narrowed, confirming Anya's worst fear, that this device was cruel. "Be still, my precious one, though your shivers appear to me so sweet and so delicious." Ildren closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, and it seemed that she too had almost shivered. "Yet there is nought to fear. Spread yourself more widely. Open out to me. Submit your delectable self to my intimate attentions, and look upon my face, my darling, whilst I apply this precious jewel to your droplet." Anya was very frightened now. How would the jewel be secured to her in so tiny and sensitive a place? It was sure to be excruciatingly painful, Anya felt certain.

  "Keep still, my pet, and do not raise your legs." The Taskmistress had touched her hood to ease it back and yet this simple act had, fired by Anya's fearful state, felt more piercing than a knife-cut into Anya's flesh. "This will not hurt - I do assure you - it will be at most a little tiny sting." Then Ildren's voice was sterner. "Now stop your twitching, for you must co-operate." She decided next to make Anya use her fingertips to pull back and hold her fleshy hood so Ildren's hands were unencumbered and could administer the pearl more easily. It touched Anya and she jumped. The Taskmistress became impatient. She placed the jewel very carefully upon the table and, taking hold of Anya's nipples, she pinched them very cruelly, making Anya cry out with the searing pain of it. "Now this time, you shall hold still, shall you not?" The Taskmistress now looked very evil, and Anya did not dare refuse her.

  "Yes, ma'am," Anya replied, but her eyes were filming over with her tears; she felt utterly defenceless against her present degradation.

  And still her body twitched when Ildren touched her there - she could not help herself. The Taskmistress frowned and waited. Anya's tears welled up to blind her, and overflowed in hot and trailing droplets which splashed down across her earlobes and soaked into her hair. Ildren bent across her. The metal touched her and she shivered; Ildren very slowly tightened the miniature clamp around her pink and pulsing bud until Anya cried out at the sudden stinging bite, for she was sure the clamp had pierced her through. "There ... that should serve to hold it." Ildren sounded satisfied and, wiping Anya's tears away, she helped her up. "There we are - all ready now, as his lordship has requested."

  Anya found herself face to face with Marella; her pale appearance only served to make Anya's throat tighten and her tears well again.

  "You may take her now, Marella."

  And with that, Marella advanced towards Anya and buried her in those huge arms; she pressed her to her soft warm breast while Anya could only cling to her and sob salt tears in misery and pain. Marella's hands stroked Anya's satin locks and curled them round her fingers. "My soft sweet child, my doe," she said and lifted up that face to kiss away those tears. Anya, gazing upon those small bright eyes felt, not happy, yet bathed somehow in this woman's warmth, and calmed by her kindness.

  Marella lifted up the hand that wore the turquoise ring and pressed it to her lips, making Anya smile amidst her newly welling tears. "There - you shall cry if that is what you want, my honey. Does it hurt so very much?" She kissed the ring again. "The jewel is not in truth so terrible as you, in your innocence, may fear, my darling - it is but an adornment to your beauty - as are your golden chains and as indeed this ring is. And in the same way in which your chains remind you of their presence as you move, so too this pearl betokens, though in a more precise and intimate way, so that in the loving swell of pleasure you may feel its firm restraint against you at your focus of delight. Now, tell Marella ... Does it really cause you pain?"

  Marella was correct, Anya realised, for once she had overcome the shock and fear of the unknown - that cruel fitting of the jewel to which the Taskmistress had subjected her - the pain had ebbed away and was replaced instead by a gentle throbbing pulsing of her nub against the unyielding, tight, yet not at present overbearing pressure of the clamp. "Would you like to look at it, to see how harmless and insignificant this bauble really is?" Anya did not want to look at herself at all, and most certainly not with such a thing as this in place, and yet she did not stop Marella, who then had Anya ease her legs apart, whilst she positioned a mirror in such a way that Anya now beheld her blackness and the milk-rose pearl, half the size of Anya's little fingernail; it projected from the joining of her inky leaves of flesh and was mounted on a tiny clamp of gold, attached to Anya's nubbin. And when Anya's black fleshy hood was sleeved fully down again, the mounting was unseen, so it appeared that a pink and pearly opalescent droplet swelled from underneath to catch the light.

  The pearl was in reality an adornment which served a dual purpose, for in its gripping it would seduce the wearer with its constant pleasurable stimulation in that critical place and, at the same time, it would excite desire in the beholder, who would see in it an exaggeration of that pearl-pink fleshy droplet which was hooded underneath, and would know that each tiny touch or tongue-tip licked upon this jewelled bud would transmit to tantalize the fleshy pearl beneath.

  Anya's anxiety was stilled by what she saw reflected in the mirror, and yet in this she was quite definitely misguided, for this jewel, howev
er pleasing to the eye, was in no way the innocent adornment that Marella had suggested it to be. The Taskmistress had applied to it a salve, a potent stimulus to pleasure, which would in due course incite in its unfortunate victim the most lascivious wanton desire, which the pleasure-trapping pearl would magnify, whilst Lord Aldrid would certainly require that the young slave's release be held in abeyance, for tonight at least, as part of her training in the intricate interplay of love, desire and satisfaction.

  Ildren was smiling very sweetly as Marella led Anya out. She was standing beside the bondslave, who was still fastened to the wall, her body arched and her legs outspread, exactly as Ildren had earlier left her, and Anya noticed, as the door was closing, that Ildren's hand had reached to grip the wooden stem still bedded in the woman. A little shiver ran down through her and out between her legs at the thought of what the Taskmistress might do to the slave, secure behind closed doors, with no one there to witness, or to hear the poor girl's cries of degradation. And a tiny stirring came, in between Anya's legs, exactly at the node wherein the pearl was bedded, a feeling quite delicious, a feeling which Anya did not fully understand.