Descent Into Darkness (13 page)

CHAPTER XXV –
Slush Puppy

The distraction was not something Amber had planned and nothing had prepared her for the new direction which she now took. It was an act of outright rebellion and blatantly so to any who noticed. Always naturally respectful of the hierarchy and proper order of things, she’d helped a slave defy her Mistress, Mistress Raven no less. But things were changing swiftly now and breaking her own personal code of conduct was a small price to pay as things spun rapidly out of control.

The woman they were handling was not the first. Red and Amber had double- teamed two before. Playing her role, she’d enjoyed it as the shared experience drew them closer. This though was different, very different. This woman was clearly not willing like the others had been, even those where the apparent abduction had been staged to add to their thrill.

Even trying to ignore them, the warning signs still dazzled Amber. She hadn’t seen Pavlovian Theory used so intensely. It wasn’t just some fluffy decoration on a wider scene. This was the real thing, designed to destroy and it turned her stomach to see such a beautiful girl treated so.

The compassion sat comfortably within her. Amber had always maintained respect for those that chose not to use their own but now she felt numb. Red was lost. They’d been together for over two years and had explored a new and exciting world together. The Red
she
knew was gone, swept along by the bitter tsunami that was Mistress Raven and her unique brand of sadistic self-obsession.

The creeping cancer of Raven had already spread. The surprise came in that Amber realised she just didn’t care. Even so, Amber had denied the realisation until that moment. She had helped Mela and indirectly helped Katarina too. Amber knew that she had got in too deep but she had to win time and trust if she was to be still involved in the next phase of Katarina’s breakdown. Involvement was the only way to help.

“Feed the bitch,” the response came, Raven’s direction for Katarina’s next ordeal.

A nod of understanding, nothing more was required. Red stopped the loop of the video and Amber followed her into the room as Raven glided out with Mela in tow.

Amber still appreciated the body that led her back into the gymnasium, they had shared some heady times. She was honed to perfection by both exercise and scalpel in the way of so many from the Golden State from which she hailed. Memories, sweet memories. Amber sensed herself already starting to question the direction she had only just decided on, and perhaps her own sanity.

The sight of Katarina curled on the floor quickly snapped Amber back to her senses, reaffirming her decision. Her catsuit was stretched tightly over the curve of her butt and beneath it, the darkening bruise beginning to show on her side would no doubt hurt. She wasn’t moving, keeping still in denial of the pain as the insert reached the end of its punishment cycle. Her long legs slowly unfurled, stretching out through a puddle of her own sweat and saliva. She had good legs; that was what she had first noticed. Yes, she would help her and perhaps, just maybe, something more.

== ~ ==

Red stood astride the latex clad girl, pausing to delight in the thought of having a woman to toy with and tease, to use and abuse in equal measure. Mistress Raven definitely had it all worked out. It was dangerous and yet thrilling to force herself on a woman who was totally unwilling.

She’d needed Amber when she had come into her life. She’d needed her surety, needed her confidence. Amber had been the bedrock on which Red had rebuilt her life after her short and disastrous marriage. God how she’d cried back then. She’d cried until she thought she could never shed another tear.

Swept along on the magical carpet of unplanned desire, Red had fallen hard for the guy before she could even take a breath. Young and with more than her fair share of foolish, she had laughingly agreed when he’d said they should head to Vegas for the weekend. That weekend she’d played out both her dream and a cliché – married him in a drive-thru chapel.

The marriage had barely lasted the drive back to the coast. Before she knew it she’d first had her arm broken, then her heart and lastly her marriage as her life imploded, followed by a thousand repetitions of ‘I told you so’.

Right then, facing life humiliated and alone, Red had vowed never again and resolutely set out, leaving a former life to fade in her rear view mirror. She just drove until she could drive no more. That night, while blankly watching the TV, the idea of her future was presented on a platter to her.

Inadvertently, she’d settled on one of those Mexican channels, a channel she didn’t even realise she was watching. Her Spanish didn’t even qualify as vacation ready, beyond ordering a cerveza, she didn’t understand much at all. It was the image that truly struck her though as a sobbing woman was cradled for comfort in the arms of another.

A woman didn’t have the same challenges as men and Red’s new start had its genesis. It wasn’t long before the courage to act was gathered and, meeting Amber by chance, she’d launched into a relationship that had helped her rebuild.

Things had changed though. She had evolved. What Amber had introduced to their bed had been the start but Red outpaced her in wanting to learn more.

Ever since that first visit to Mistress Raven, Red had known she
needed
more. Kerry was her birth name but that had to be left behind too as the last vestige of a former life. Total immersion was the only way to throw off the baggage of a past that still hung heavy around her neck. More visits followed until that one time when she’d paid for the full night. When she’d returned to Amber the next morning, she was full of ideas and hungry for what the striking woman named Raven had offered.

Her preparation had been intense, throwing herself into tortuous amounts of exercise to tone her body, stripping it of the puppy fat it still stubbornly clung on to. Not satisfied, and still not meeting the demands that Raven had placed on her, Red had resorted to surgery, ploughing her carefully garnered savings into the minor cosmetic enhancements Raven had demanded to win her consideration.

After a little more than a month, Raven had approved of her and would consider her as an assistant. But she desired a pair and so Red had broached the subject to Amber and their next steps together were decided.

She took the name Red after the flame of her hair. It conveyed fire, danger even and for the first time with her confidence rebuilding, she was living the stereotype of the fiery redhead. Mistress Raven had given her that, beckoning her onto the next level with the example she set.

Amber’s confidence, Red realised, was rooted in the familiarity of operating within long established boundaries. Red’s frustration laid in Amber’s reluctance to push hard past her margins. Amber had now been outgrown, purpose served, move along.

The new Red needed to keep building and she couldn’t do that bounded by what she now viewed as the conservative parameters of a convenient lover. It was time to move on, move forward and embrace her potential. Her husband had beaten her back, Amber now
held
her back. She needed more.

She would be Mistress Raven’s favourite, perhaps even standing by her side as an equal. The luxury of her imagined position was an inspiration. She would show Mistress Raven just what she could do and with that Red smiled down at Katarina.

== ~ ==

The scrape on the floor was out of place but Katarina couldn’t muster the energy to raise her head to investigate even as the gag was unfastened and wrenched from her mouth. It seemed as if every muscle wanted to burst out her body, probably to escape the punishments inflicted upon them. She had pushed herself hard but to no avail, she’d still lost. Endure and survive, that was it. Try to get through.

A smell of food drifted across her nostrils and Katarina noticed the pull of gnawing hunger, having not eaten properly for what felt like days. Not the warm inviting aroma of a lovingly crafted dish, this was the cold, damp smell of something more functional and certainly less appealing.

The bowl was nudged by boot before her. “Eat,” the American instructed.

Hesitantly, Katarina scooped a handful and raised it to her mouth. Half biting, half lapping, the excess trailed down her chin. It was cold, uncomfortably so, and it perfectly matched the cold in the redhead’s voice.

Unpleasant would have been a compliment to the chef and Katarina had to remind herself it was to survive. Handful after nauseating handful, she ignored the laughing encouragement from above her.

“Stop.” Katarina duly paused to see a toe dipped into the bowl, collecting a wad of the slushy mixture.

“Lick.” Her stomach turned at the sight. She needed all she could get though, needed the fuel to keep going, so Katarina licked. She used her tongue to amused laughter from the redhead above. The taste of leather registered vaguely. Pressure gradually built on Katarina’s lips, the boot pressing harder, pushing them against her teeth.

She tried to pull away to win relief from the crushing around her mouth but the hand to the back of her head pressed Katarina still harder with every sign of resistance. The foot twisted, giving her the briefest of respite before the sharp metal heel took over to press against her natural pout.

“Suck.” The command was concise and Amber bit her tongue, trying to remain mute. Katarina’s slight hesitation only resulted in the hand pressing once again. So, with little choice, Katarina parted her lips and enveloped the heel before her. Gradually it tipped forward and once at the right angle, pushed back until Katarina could do nothing but take the length further into her mouth.

She sucked it without thinking but there was no comfort for her there, no reward of sweet fluids, only the harsh edge of a stiletto heel that could easily cause harm if she flinched.

Humiliation and sex were their mantra. The gooey substance oozed gradually down Katarina’s face before sliding to the floor with a dull plop. She had been through so much, been stripped of so much of the pride and dignity she had carried into her photo shoot. Now she simply endured, distancing herself as best she could from the compelled actions of her body while the boot smeared her face with more mush.

And she
would
endure, she reminded herself. Perhaps find a way to enjoy? The new thought jostled for prime position within Katarina’s confused mind. So she sucked now, working Red’s heel as she would a male lover, buying herself time, tongue searching for enjoyment.

The heel moved in and out, symbolically fucking Katarina’s mouth before withdrawing completely. Before she had chance to draw breath, Katarina’s face was plunged into the next bowl and she floundered as the water gushed up her nose. Held firmly in place, she struggled, ineffectually beating the booted leg that pressed against the back of her neck and held her there until her lungs screamed for air.

“Enough! Let her up!” Amber’s hand shot out to grab Red. The smack of the back of a gloved hand was the response and Katarina flinched, seeing the blonde woman stagger to one knee next to her.

It was indeed enough though and Red withdrew to stand over the two women, one smokily naked beneath her transparent latex catsuit, the other in burgundy leather, on one knee before the woman who had struck out.

Katarina looked at the blonde and the blonde looked right back. Amber’s chest heaved, splaying the zipped top of her catsuit as she poised, paused, ready to strike back.

A change of heart or the presence of mind to hold until a more opportune moment? It was difficult to tell but, as if sensing the futility of that moment, Amber’s head bowed in submission before her aggressor, allowing the blood in her mouth to pool and run down her chin.

In that moment pained eyes had met for the first real time. Partners in frustration, they shared one of those connections that endure beyond adversity.

The battle would not be fought today. This was not the time, not here, not now, not with Katarina so vulnerable. Amber’s mind sprinted through options, striving to justify her inaction.

“Good girl,” the American cooed, crashing into the confusion of thoughts spinning within the Australian woman’s head. Red was clearly aware of the torment within her former lover, she felt truly alive and for the first time since the quagmire of her divorce, she felt in control.