The Slave of Lidir Read online

  "And now, assuming you are suitably refreshed, I propose to take you to that point - that delirium of pleasure - and have you balance there, as part of this, your training and also, I trust, your enjoyment."

  Anya's heart was thumping as his lordship commenced this treatment, for she felt this situation, with her sitting on his lap and cradled in his arms, was too intimate, too close, too personal for this particular style of cruel stimulation. She felt that it would have been easier if she had been retrained in some way - as the Taskmistress preferred to have her - if her body had been controlled externally, and pleasured in subjugation. She was afraid that, left free to move, she would refuse his lordship and rebel against his touch.

  The wine was dripped upon her breasts, then worked around the nipples. His fingers curled around and drew upon them like a small wet mouth, until they stood out very firmly, after which he sucked them with his tongue, trapping each nipple against the roof of his mouth and pressing his tongue-tip underneath it, milking down in a slowly sucking pull. This action enlarged her nipples further, as the sucking drew fluid to the teats; this pleased his lordship. He tapped against their firmness with his fingertips, from below, then sucked again and satisfied himself about the permanence of their erection - he wanted to ensure that their black-brown rigidity contrasted suitably with Anya's soft and heavy freckle-dapped milk-white mounds - before proceeding downwards.

  Anya's breasts throbbed and her nipples prickled as the wine evaporated around them; then chilling droplets splashed across her belly as his lordship sprinkled her again, but lower down this time. His lordship made her bend her knees and press her feet together, sole to sole, which opened her thighs quite fully to his caress. And now he leant her back and, moving the chain about her waist upwards, he dripped the wine in the well of Anya's navel, saying "Do not allow this thimbleful to spill." Anya had to keep very still whilst Aldrid opened out her leaves and traced repeatedly around their very edge with the tip of his little finger, which he had previously dipped in wine. Each time, he waited until the wine had evaporated, causing Anya's leaf edges to tighten with the sticky film of sugar from the wine, then he traced again that fine liquid line of tickling pleasure and waited patiently as Anya twitched against the itchy tightness which knitted across her skin. "Steadily, my child," he would say if Anya jerked too strongly, "do not spill your cup, or we must start afresh." And Anya then would stay exceedingly still against the tantalising ticklishness crawling over her flesh. "Good - your training is progressing well."

  Next, his lordship was pleased to work around the pearl. He very carefully teased back Anya's hood and, dipping his finger in the goblet which Axine held close by, he suspended the fingertip above her. Anya's eyes were fixed upon the ruby droplet swelling at the end. She tried to brace herself against the splashing shock of it.

  "Remember - do not move, my child," Lord Aldrid whispered without shifting his gaze from the fingertip. Anya seemed to see the droplet, in slow motion, pull and snap away from him and drift down, wobbling drunkenly, a tiny bag of blood which hit the pearl and burst into a thousand particles which shimmered on her belly and misted in her curls. A little pleasure-shock had tapped through to her nubbin. The finger dipped and dripped again, and this time the droplet splashed into the well of Anya's drawn-back hood and seeped beneath the mounting of the pearl, filling her flesh tip with a slightly stinging warmth. The droplets dipped and splashed repeatedly, above the pearl, below it and around it, until Anya's flesh was drenched and her curls had netted countless misty droplets - and Anya's heat had mixed with wine in a heavy scented vapour.

  Lord Aldrid's nostrils flared; he drank that sweet musk in and teased the pearl and stroked below it, then drawing Anya's hood around it, he trapped the pearl in Anya's skin and very gently pulled it. That manner of pulling felt to her so deliciously exquisitely forbidden; it made her press the soles of her feet together - hard - to lift her hips and push her sex out further.

  "There, enjoy, my dear. Move your hips; push out your precious pearl - but do it very gently."

  Aldrid stretched back the skin again to expose the pearl more fully, then used his fingertip to vibrate back and forth across the jewel, very, very quickly. Anya felt the resonance drilling up inside her. She closed her eyes and twitched and gasped and tried to close her legs, but Aldrid caught her thighs and held them firmly open. "My child," he chided her, "you almost spilled your wine." And then he had to smile, for those olive eyes of hers, set in that gently freckled complexion, were deep wide pools of wanton sensuality; those lips upon her face were soft yet swollen, moistened, filled with blood, and he had to pause to kiss them. He had to purse his lips upon each red soft fruit in turn, to lick that liquid gloss and slowly taste it with his tongue. And then he had to resume his lesson - to draw back the hood more firmly than before, and vibrate the pearl of love very steadily, whilst he watched the mounting wave of pleasure and of tension in his charge - the tightness in that belly, the misting of the eyes, the eyelids closing in heavy weighted languor, and then those lips, those soft sweet lips, beginning to move in silent murmurings of love and lustful protestation, and then that focusing, that build-up towards that exquisite pleasure, whereupon the murmurings would melt into a moan of sweet desire - and at that point to stop, and very gently, very carefully, to bring her down again. He had to execute this treatment three times in succession, but in fact he did it four times, because he realised this slave was very special, and special slaves require special treatment. And with the completion of this tickling training, he dipped his tongue and sipped the fleshy thimble of wine, then carefully licked the cup quite clean.

  "My dear, I am so very pleased with you," he said, but Anya barely heard the words. She felt drugged with heady sensuality; that constant dripping of desire within her bloodstream had made her feel so drowsy. Her sex felt enveloped in a sticky warmth and a deep and drowning longing. "Now you shall rest awhile. Regain your strength and cool your heat." Lord Aldrid lifted her tenderly from his lap and laid her, face down, on the bed, her arms outstretched, her thighs apart, her breasts pressed to the velvet. He had Axine prepare a folded squeezed-out cloth, previously soaked in cold, lavender-scented water, and reaching underneath Anya, he lifted her hips and spread her hot sticky leaves, then lowered her onto the cloth. The coolness bathed her burning openness; it drained her heat and seeped into her person. Then Aldrid very softly tickled Anya's back. The gentle tickling and the coolness brought such blissful relief to Anya that she fell asleep.

  She did not dream - her sleep was pure deep blackness in which she was unaware of place or time - she was as a child, stretched out in peaceful, innocent, total relaxation.

  Movements on the bed beside her gradually made her stir. At length, her eyelids flickered and opened to the swath of deep blue velvet surface, and Anya then recalled - the pressing cheek, the clawing fingers, the burning heat down there, replaced now by a warm clammy moistness and a distant echo of that need which had not gone away. The bed had moved again, in a slow uneven undulation. Anya turned her head the other way to see a pale and bony arm stretched down alongside her, with pale brown blotchy freckles, and coarse, yet wispy, pure white hairs. Lord Aldrid had disrobed. As carefully and quietly as she could do so, Anya turned on her side to face him. She found herself looking up above his supine form and directly into Axine's eyes. Axine simply smiled at her and Anya did not know what to do now, for she had been trying to remain unobserved for as long as possible. Axine smiled again at Anya's frown and, leaning forwards, pressed her outspread hands on Aldrid's grey-white chest then, looking now at him instead, she moved. The bed undulated. Axine's thighs were gripping Aldrid about his hips and Anya understood so very clearly what Axine was doing to his lordship. It made Anya's heart beat uncontrollably to witness such a scene, for this vision and this style of mating had broken Anya's dream - that dream, constantly refined by measured wishful thinking, in which she would take her lover in this very same position - a position which Anya had t
hought was known only to her mind - and milk his stem so very precisely, at a pace which she decided. Then, poised above him, squeezing just the end within her soft moist gently pulsing glove of flesh, she would watch his eyes expand with pure desire, and he would cry out loud her name at the spurting of his pleasure.

  Axine's hips rose; Lord Aldrid's long thin stem glistened between her thighs, then sank again inside her body as Axine closed her eyes. Axine's hand slipped down his torso and in between her legs. Anya felt the inside of her belly overturn, for Axine's fingers were probing, quite deliberately, within her dense black fur. Axine was stretching back, to make her sex project and to render the touching that much more effective - Anya was sure of this, and yet his lordship did not move to stop this clear and lustful trespass. Axine's fleshliness had fanned the glowing spark of Anya's bitter-sweet denial, to make a burning fire within her. Lord Aldrid's arm was lifted, reaching out towards Axine, then it wavered and fell instead on Anya, making her jump with sudden fright.

  "So - you are with us once again, my child," said his lordship, now propped up on one elbow. "Come - you shall join us in this gentle relaxation. I wish to feel your lavender softness pressed against my person."

  Anya was very anxious about what he meant to do to her, as he lifted her across his old and tightened pale-skinned body. He had her sit upon his belly, and spread herself across his bony hips, after the manner in which Axine had spread, but facing towards his feet. Lord Aldrid insisted upon some minor readjustments to Anya's pose, the more precisely to accommodate his purpose and his whim. He preferred, he said, that Anya bend her knees as tightly as she could, whilst keeping her feet quite flat to the bed, then she should arch her back and push her belly forwards. It was quite permissible for her to retain her balance, in this tight-arched pushed-out pose, by leaning back upon her hands, placed to either side of Aldrid's ribcage.

  Anya's sex projected forwards, towards his long, upstanding stem. Her buttocks spread, and Aldrid's wiry curls sprang to tickle up inside there, against the tender ticklishness of Anya's bottom groove.

  "Edge your body, arch your back, so I may feel your living flesh. Yes, that is so much better - to feel your luscious self against me." The tightened skin of Aldrid's stem felt cool against her, but also satin smooth; she had not expected that. The smoothness stroked against Anya's soft, pursed fleshy lips. That feeling was almost pleasant - that silken smoothness brushing softly upon her intimate person.

  "Axine - mould this young and beautiful thing about this old dry bone, that I may sense and taste her youthful vibrant longing," Aldrid sighed. "But beware, Axine - you shall require the utmost care in the handling of this sweetmeat, this fruit so ripe for bursting ..."

  His lordship's words had caused a sinking feeling deep in Anya's belly, for he meant her ordeal to continue, and worse yet, at Axine's hands.

  Axine knelt and spread his lordship's legs, forcing Anya's feet apart. Her mound projected up against his long firm stem. Then Axine took each of Anya's leaves of flesh quite carefully in her fingers and pulled those leaves apart. Lord Aldrid's stem sprang back and slotted to her openness. His lordship groaned. "So warm, so moist ..." His flesh felt very cool against her heat, yet this contact did not cool her longing. Axine's fingers took those leaves and very cruelly, so deliciously, moulded them to that stem, pressing firmly, thinning them around it, drawing out that compliant flesh, so Anya's sticky oil was squeezed out at the feather edge, to make the seal complete, to transform her flesh into a living glove, a second skin about him. Anya could feel, against her own much quicker palpitations, the slow insistent pulse of blood which pumped into his sex. The pearl pressed against his stem and sank into his flesh; it seemed each tiny movement was transmitted to her body. Axine's fingers, trapping her against him, worked up and down in short and nervous strokes, so Aldrid's inner stem, with raised and knotted bumps and veins, moved against her pearl in gentle stimulation. Now Axine drew back Anya's hooded flesh. She squeezed until the pearl was pushed out sharply, and after licking her fingertip at first, she blew it dry then very slowly rasped it across the surface of the pearl. Anya nearly died of pleasure at that point; her nubbin palpitated; like a tiny gasping tongue, it pushed the jewel in and out. Axine looked at Anya very carefully, then raised her finger once again and licked it. Anya felt delicious honeyed feelings deep within her womb as Axine held her finger out to Anya, and Anya, quaking in anticipation, tried to blow it dry. This time she held her breath whilst Axine seduced her with that rasping pleasure. Anya's knees spread wide; her hips had lifted, to offer herself more freely to that rasping tickle.

  Axine bent her head and took his lordship in her mouth; her lips slid down his stem until they almost reached to Anya's leaves, and Anya could feel the gentle brush of Axine's breath within her drawn-back hood. Axine sucked and drew upon his stem until Anya felt a rolling lift within his lordship's hips - uneasy heaves - then murmurs underneath his breath. Then she watched as Axine's sucking lips drew back along his length and, at the very last second, released him, after clinging to the tip. His lordship seemed to catch his breath and Anya felt a throbbing pulsing surging in his stem. Aldrid's dense and pure white milt then bubbled out and trickled down the stem, in a slow advancing tube of thickness which enveloped Anya's jewelled bud and welled beneath the hood, which Axine had held firmly back and open, ready to receive it. Axine worked the curd-paste tenderly into Anya's leaves until Aldrid, satiated now, lifted Anya's burning body off his person and back onto the bed.

  His lordship now requested that Axine spread the cover across himself and his overtired slave. "Thank you, Axine," he said. "You may leave us now. This girl requires rest. I fear that, in our assiduous attentions, we may have fatigued the child."

  Lord Aldrid turned his sweet young slave upon her side, so that he could smooth his hands upon that perfect back, admire those deeply freckled shoulders, and wrap those shining, curling deep red locks about his long thin fingers. Then, pushing one arm around and underneath her shoulders, he gathered up those soft warm breasts within a single hand, and nuzzled them together. His other hand was free to dangle down across those smooth-curved hips; his fingertips could run and prance within that delectably sculpted hollow, which swept so steeply downward to that outcurve of her belly that his old tired breath was sucked away and his lungs were filled with joy. His fingertips were young again and were fired with love's first dawn of sweet adventure, as they tentatively probed and parted those gentle curls - that soft underbrush of the forbidden - to release that delicious musk of nubile slave, overlain by Aldrid's passion, and then to stroke and squeeze that moist and tender girlishness within.

  Anya had been made to lift one knee, so his lordship could the more easily gain access to her private self, and touch her there, between her legs. The hand that squeezed her breasts together rocked her very gently, whilst the fingers there upon her sex pressed and pulled her sticky leaves and sealed them tight together, then opened them out quite fully, and tested each of them in turn, then tightly sealed them up again, and carefully probed around the pearl. She was beside herself under the spell of so intimate a petting, yet Lord Aldrid worked her heated flesh until his paste had dried and filmed her skin in tightness, and matted in her curls. And even then, his fingers would not rest, but rolled the curls to break and crumble up those dried and crispy bindings, and pulled and teased apart each stuck-together curl, then shook away the dusted, desiccated miltings, until Anya's skin was crawling with that incessant tickling around her rootlets.

  Anya was so hot and tired, and yet within that special place, it seemed her sense was so alert - and Aldrid would not leave his slave alone, would never give her peace, with those obsessive fervid touchings.

  "Rest, my darling - go to sleep." Lord Aldrid's voice was soft and deep. "Turn over on your belly, and I will watch over you, and stroke you till slumber folds its soft black arms around you ..."

  Aldrid stroked Anya's back so softly that she almost went to sleep. And gently then,
Aldrid helped Anya into a more comfortable position, still on her front, with one leg stretched out to its full extent, but the other now crooked and drawn up on the bed beside her, so Aldrid's strokings could, at Aldrid's whim - and for Anya's relaxation - extend downwards very lightly to the join between her thighs, and his lordship could softly open out and penetrate her sex, and could thereby progress that relaxing, stroking pleasure into Anya's body. Anya found that penetration stirred her animal heat.

  "Shh ... Calm your body's nervous jumping tightness. Relax and open to my stroking touch. Your body needs its sleep ..."

  Yet Anya found it hard, so very hard, to keep her body open, to adapt in pliant relaxation to that stroking of those fingers, to that constant depth of pleasure in her person. So Anya's sleep came fitfully, as if she were in fever, and Anya's dreams came, so intense, and so confused - dreams in which it seemed she was lifted, and carried bodily through the air - and, to her shame, dreams so charged with wantonness and lustful sensuality, in which she would take her lover and use him as she liked, and she would penetrate him, then bathe his body in her liquidness and heat, and make her lover kiss her in that forbidden way, and draw out his pleasure on and on, till he gasped and cried and begged for mercy. And then her body would bestow upon him that most extreme delight, whilst he murmured, over and over again, one word - her name - and she would kiss and lick and suck upon that ear - that earlobe with the ring.