Blonde Fury (12 page)

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 lon
g for her age, Sophie thought, b
ut then chided herself for being surly at the interruption and
she managed a smile as the woma
n 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
t
hought might be the best word,
and her figure was full but the tight dress suggested there was little fat
as her outline was smooth
ly 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?” Martha 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
. H
e’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 t
he 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 s
he 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.