Blonde Fury II (11 page)

“I’m taking you to Bakhtar,” he went on as she wriggled the knickers up her legs and finally managed to work them up over her bottom. She had to lift her skirt to do it but he never glanced at her and just continued talking. “Initially you’ll be run as a pony, very much as Floyd used you. But I do own an arena and I’ll see what aptitude you have for that as well.” At the mention of an arena, Sophie felt the strangest sensation. A blast of fury seemed to blossom at the back of her mind
and in her chest
but as images of naked girls and priapic men scrolled across her memory from glimpses of
holographic images
and television programmes
, she recalled the faces of the girls as they climaxed passionately time and again. She groaned aloud at the
jolt
of excitement
that exploded in her belly and then the anger dissipated, leaving behind it only an ache in her groin. She really needed to come!

She looked across at her owner who was regarding her steadily and slowly she smiled, crossing her long legs and letting the skirt ride up her thighs.

“Whatever you want, your Highness,” she said and was only aware of meaning it from the bottom of her heart.

The
Prince
’s jet was waiting for them at the edge of the airfield. There was a brief exchange with
checking in
, Sophie was handed her Stafford passport
by Selim who seemed to be the
Prince
’s secretary
, it was looked at briefly
and then they were whisked out to it in another limo.
Sophie couldn’t believe her eyes at first. This wasn’t a private jet in any sense she had ever come across one. It was no small, twin jet executive plane; it was a full sized passenger jet
decked out in the Bakhtar colours.

She stood behind the
Prince
as he was greeted by the crew at the foot of the steps and then she followed him up, having to hold down the back of her skirt as she did so. There was a strong breeze blowing and she was mindful of the flimsy knickers she wore. If he judged she was being sluttish, Sophie had no doubt he could ensure her next orgasm was a long time in coming and she didn’t want to risk that.

The plane’s interior was breathtaking. A long lounge with leather upholstered
armchairs and sofas
met her eyes as she entered. There was a fully stocked cocktail cabinet
, kitchen
and dining facilities just behind a small lobby where conventional aeroplane seats for eight people were laid out. She was still looking at it goggle eyed when the stewardess approached and greeted her. She was stunningly beautiful with large, almond shaped, dark eyes. She wore a smart skirt suit which left her legs bare from two inches above the knee, but her skin was just dark enough and so smooth that Sophie couldn’t tell whether they were really bare or clad in the most sheer of stockings. Although her
dark blue
suit was Western, she wore a
matching
head scarf
but her English was perfect and her smile brilliant as she led Sophie to a seat and help
ed her buckle on her belt. The
Prince
settled himself on the opposite side of the aisle and almost immediately the jets whined into life and the plane trundled bumpily over the concrete to the start of the runway.

“When we are up to cruising altitude I shall introduce you to Asil properly
,” he called across as the jets began to build to their thunderous full power. “And to a lot more besides! Are you a member of the mile high club
, girl
?”

Sophie actually blushed. “No, your Highness,” she called back.

“No matter! Even if you had been, it would have been nothing like mine!”

The jets reached their deafening crescendo and the plane began its headlong charge down the runway, pressing Sophie back into her seat. As it lifted off and the undercarriage stopped rumbling, Sophie felt completely liberated, flying free to another new life. A life of captivity maybe, but a lifetime of discovery, she was certain of that.

When a melodious chime signalled the all clear for the removal of belts, the stewardess stood up and removed her scarf, shaking out a thick,
glossy
mane of black hair and making herself even more beautiful. She put the scarf aside and then shed her jacket before going and kneeling beside the
Prince
. Immediately his hand reached out and cupped her right breast.

“Th
is is Asil,” he told Sophie. “She will look after you during the flight.
No
w you will undress and do what she tells you.
”

No order could have been more welcome and Sophie took only a few seconds to pull the dress off over her head and fumble down the scant knickers she had been given in the car, then she stood with only the kitten heeled sandals on and waited for what came next.

Asil looked up at her with naked lust in her eyes. “She is beautiful, your Highness,” she breathed and Sophie stood a little taller as her heart leaped with gratitude to the gorgeous stranger.

“Get
the
drink
s
and then take her. Prepare both of you for my usual pleasures.”

Asil stood up in a single flowing movement and began to unbutton her crisp white shirt. Breathlessly Sophie looked on as the svelte and shapely
back
was revealed and then, o
nce the black bra was unclipped, Sophie caught a glimpse of the smooth swell of one
side of a
heavy breast as it
swung free on her chest as she twisted to unzip her skirt and then step free of it. Black
,
lacy ‘short’ type knickers followed and then both girls were naked apart from their heels, Asi
l’s
were
rather higher than Sophie’s but even so she was a head shorter. Her bottom was perfection however, neat, almost perfect hemispheres on either side of the shadowy cleft and barely a crease where they joined the thighs. The little hollow
directly beneath
and between
them
drew Sophie’s eyes and she licked her lips at the prospect of seeing the sex that nestled there. It had been a long time since she had made love to another woman, Floyd had decreed that the ponygirls only had sex with men
. She wondered if the
Prince
’s tastes ran to girl on girl. As soon as she had framed the thought she chided herself, she was
as
certain
as she could be
that his tastes ran to things she could hardly imagine.

Sophie had been watching the graceful strip from slightly behind the girl and now when she turned to face Sophie, sh
e saw her body in its full glory. The hips were wide but still gracefully in proportion and the delta was shaven, just as Sophie’s had been at the stable. The legs were not as long as Sophie’s but were very shapely, the breasts were as heavy as Sophie had thought from what she had been able to see, b
ut now she could see how the body had been decorated
.

The inverted triangle of her delta had been tattooed to depict a display of
dahlia
blooms in red, white and dusky pink against green foliage
. It was dense and intricate beyond anything she had ever seen before and she thought it was
exquisitely
beautiful. But then as the girl came towards her she saw that beneath the floral display each labial lip had been pierced several times and sported quite heavy silver rings.

But there was more. Each nipple at the peak of the superb, olive skinned breasts formed the pistil of a small bloom that was tattooed on the
areola
, and each nipple was pierced as well.

Asil smiled as she registered Sophie’s shocked admiration.

“
Come with me,”
she told her and drew her by her hand into the lounge. “Wait there.”

Sophie stood and waited while Asil mixed a vodka and tonic
for the
Prince
and a cordial for Selim
and delivered
them
. Then she came back and drew Sophie through the door at the back of the lounge and into a corridor
that ran down one side of the fuselage, doors opened off it on one side
.

“
Bedro
oms,” Asil said. “His Highness’s is in here.”

She opened a door and once again Sophie was open-mouthed with astonishment.
The room contained the biggest four poster bed she had ever seen. The floor was covered in a deep pile white carpet and the bedding was likewise, crisp and pristine white, while the bed itself was made from
pale
grey steel with an intricate headboard and foot board.
The posts were made from interweaving steel lengths and both they and the rails that joined them were pierced at intervals by
b
right steel rings, from some of which hung chains. And as she began to take it all in, Sophie realised that both the headboard and foot board were similarly equipped. She felt her cunt sp
asm at the thought o
f what the
Prince
might be capable of in here.
And yet the brilliant sunshine poured into the room as if to underline
, by the stark contrast,
the very darkness of the pleasures that might be experienced in such a place.

Asil went straight to a wardrobe and opened it to reveal racks of gowns and dresses that were obviously fabulously expensive.
She
drew them apart to reveal drawers set into the back wall.

“He likes pale skinned girls in black stockings,” she said over her shoulder and then handed her a pair.

“And you’l
l need these,” she added. “They
should fit, but in any case you won’t be walking far in them!” She handed across a pair of Louboutin, sky high
-heeled
black shoes. “He’ll want me in this,” she went on as Sophie began to draw on the stockings.

‘This’ was a strictly boned corset that left Asil’s decorated delta naked
and also just lifted and offered up her lovely breasts without covering the flowers or the rings at her nipples. Sophie helped lace her in and had to admit that the result was stunning. She needed no stockings and just slipped her feet into shoes similar to Sophie’s.

“You are a big girl!”
Asil
said, standing back and admiring Sophie. “Has he bought you?”

“Yes, he has,” Sophie replied and was amazed at how exciting that sounded; ‘bought’. She was property
, there was no pretext of any contract
now. She just h
oped the
Prince
wouldn’t take too long about enjoying his purchase.

“Chipped?” Asil asked, her head slightly tilted to one side.

“Yes,” Sophie answered.

“You’re lucky. He’ll really let
himself
go with you.”

Sophie nodded. She completely understood. Vaguely at the back of her mind there was a fleeting realisation that even two days ago she wouldn’t have had the faintest idea what the girl meant.

“You?” she asked Asil.

The girl shook her head. “No, I was given to him by my last owner as payment for something or other.
Most women in Bakhtar are owned, one way or another. I suppose they think we don’t need chipping.”

Asil sounded so sad that Sophie immediately drew her to herself and hugged her.
She felt the girl’s lips press briefly again
st the inside of each breast as
she stroked her sleek black hair. But after a few moments Asil pulled away.

“I see the way you and the other slaves come when
you
are used and I can see
you all
come harder than I can. Don’t misunderstand me please! I love my Master and I try to come as hard as I can
for him, but I know
you come much harder
. Do you spurt?”

Sophie was shocked at the girl’s openness and could only nod. Asil tutted, “Then they’ll be really hard on you!” The naked envy in her voice shocked Sophie even more. But then the gorgeous girl with her waist now spectacularly constricted and her hips breathtakingly emphasised, took her hand and led her back into the lounge.

The
Prince
surveyed them at his leisure as they stood before him.

“Good. As I like them,” he said eventually. “Now I think it is high time I see how this new acquisition fares under the lash.”

He stood and walked back into the bedroom. Behind him Asil gave Sophie a nudge in the ribs and mouthed ‘told you so’. Sophie smiled at her.

He made Sophie lie face down on the bed and stretch her limbs out to the four corners. She did so with no compunction. In trut
h she was as interested as the
Prince
was in how she would fare under the lash now she was chipped.

The bed was the height of luxury to lie on
after so long spent on straw
and Sophie inhaled the scent of fresh linen
. Contentedly s
he watched Asil’s delicate hands buckle cuffs on her wrists and then clip a karabiner through a link of steel chain and feed the chain through the struts of the bed head to the other cuff. The chain clinked and slithered as it was fed through; a sound that reverberated in Sophie’s head, promising so much
about what
she was to discover in this new life.

When Asil had dealt with her ankles in the same way and Sophie felt herself stretched out and
securely held on the bed, the
Prince
showed
her
the whip he was going to use. It was a heavy, supple leather strap that started out broad at the handle but which tapered rapidly along its eighteen inch length until it came to a point.

“After a hundred I’ll stop and see how many more you can take,” he said.

Sophie’s heart skipped a beat as she heard the sentence. Surely she would come repeatedly under such a beating. She turned her head to watch her new owner steady himself and raise the whip, so probably he didn’t hear the soft whimper of envy from Asil. Then he struck.