Pam-Ann (9 page)

“I’ve never been this close to
one of That Kind before,” one of them said to the man beside her as
she let Pam’s loincloth fall back into place. She was about forty
and rather thick-waisted but Pam remembered she had still worn one
of the revealing dresses the night before. “Is it true they’re
juicing all the time?”

“Let’s see,” the man replied,
turned Pam and lifted her front covering. She clenched her fists,
forcing them to stay at her sides as the couple stared at her bald
sex. Others were also watching, none of them showing any
self-consciousness or embarrassment. Only Pam felt that. Not only
the laws of nature but the moral standards too were different in
this awful place. She gritted her teeth as the man slid a fingertip
over her slit and pushed it between her damp pussy-lips.

“Yes, she’s juicing a bit. Her
clit’s not as swollen as I expected, though. I’d heard they get so
hard they’re near to bursting most of the time.” He laughed.

Pam cringed inwardly as the
tingling, which had never fully subsided after her encounter with
Drake, increased. How long were the effects of that damned drug
going to last?

“You should try her out,” the
woman said, horrifyingly casual.

The man smiled. “I’d rather have
you, my dear.”

The woman smiled back. “Have us
both. You know I like that.”

“Perhaps I will later.” His
finger slipped free. “More coffee, girl.” He did not look at Pam’s
face as he gave the order.

She hurried away, not at all
relieved by what could only be a temporary reprieve. They had
discussed her like an object, like an animal, not a human being, as
if her thoughts and wants and feelings were of no importance. Her
belly fluttered. That was exactly the way it was. Yet they were not
unfeeling. They obviously had affection for one another. Their
empathy just did not extend to slaves, especially not to whatever
slaves of That Kind might be. And everyone thought she was one of
them. Would Christine explain if she asked, or would she hit her
again?

Having served the coffee,
endured the man’s exploration of one of her sore breasts and the
woman commenting on how red her persistently stiff nipples were,
Pam returned to the place she had been told to stand, amid the
tables in the saloon that were her responsibility. She watched the
passengers seated around them like the trained stewardess she was,
anticipating their needs and dealing with them instantly. No one
was going to fault her performance. She did not want another
beating, and even more importantly she did not want to be forced to
leave the airship and her only chance to get home, however remote
it might be.

The wall clocks showing London,
ship and New York time told Pam she had two hours of her shift
remaining when Persephone Peake came into the saloon, accompanied
by
her bodyguard
Eve and the slave girl
Tania. As Pam had been sure she would, she sat at one of her
tables. Tania knelt on the floor beside her. Persephone ordered
coffee.

“Yes, Mistress.” Pam spoke the
hated, humiliating words, and when she returned with the tray had
to endure a knowing smile from the young woman who had drugged and
abused her the night before.

“Are your tits hurting,
darling?” she asked as Pam poured coffee.

“Yes, Mistress,” she answered,
tight-lipped.

“You didn’t seem to like your
flogging much.”

“Of course I didn’t,” Pam
snapped. “Oh! I mean, no, Mistress.”

Persephone
gave her feline smile, drew on her long
cigarette holder and blew smoke in Pam’s face. “Some do, you know.
I’ve seen it myself; girls coming under the lash, sometimes again
and again. I suppose they’re so excited at the new life they’ve
chosen they can’t help it.” Her soft laugh tinkled. “You were lucky
really. Some ships use knotted leather thongs instead of the cord
whips. They’re
sure to hurt more when
they’re wet, I should think.” She shivered but continued
smiling.

Pam hid her grimace
at the blonde’s amusement
by returning to her station
amongst the tables. The smug bitch. But then, she could afford to
be. As if she knew exactly what Pam was thinking
,
Persephone
met her resentful gaze and slid the tip of her
tongue over her rouged lips. Pam saw a passenger lay aside a
magazine and hurried over to offer another. She had to return after
a few minutes when Persephone drained her coffee cup.

“Would you like more, Mistress?”
she asked, belly tightening.

“No. I’d like you.”

Pam’s stomach contracted even
more. “I can’t leave my position.”

“Yes you can. You’re officially
available now. Your duty is to please passengers, and I’m a
passenger.” She snapped her fingers at the male crewman, who sent
one of the slaves standing at the bar to take Pam’s place. “Come
on.” Persephone rose. “Eve, you can stay here. I think we can be
pretty sure I’m not in danger of being kidnapped while I’m on
board.”

“I’ll wait outside, Ma’am. Just
in case.” The
tall g
irl got to her feet and
glanced at Pam.

Persephone did the same and
laughed. “Come along then.”

Remembering Drake’s warning and
the meaty thud of the cane impacting the buttocks of the girl who
had been beaten the night before, Pam followed her to her
stateroom, heart thumping.

Once again Milly was on the
floor, this time on her back with her ankles held apart by a
spreader bar and cuffed to her wrists, her knees bent and thighs
spread. The skin of her hairless mound and vulva was crimson and
her labia swollen and puffy. She held a short strap of stiff
leather clamped between her teeth, but what startled Pam was the
broad, cylindrical wooden baton stretching wide the tight muscle
between the slave girl’s small, firm buttocks. Breathing hard she
looked away and stared at the clouds drifting past the window.

Persephone let her skirt fall
and stepped out of it, the muscles in her bare buttocks and thighs
rippling. She bent and pulled the baton free. Milly gave a low moan
around the leather strap.

“Free her,” the blonde mistress
told Tania and began unbuttoning her white silk blouse as she
turned to Pam. “She’s the same every time we fly. One glimpse of a
man and her pussy’s dripping. And the next moment, of course, she’s
got her fingers in it. I don’t know how many times I’ve told her
she’s not to masturbate without permission but I may as well have
saved my breath. I blame the altitude. She behaves herself on the
ground but as soon as we’re in the air, she’s off.” She dropped her
blouse to the floor and Tania retrieved it as Persephone took the
strap from Milly’s mouth. Released from her bondage, the girl had
remained unmoving, awaiting orders. “Legs wider,” her Mistress said
mildly, and with a barely audible whimper
Milly
strained her thighs further apart. Persephone cracked the strap
down on the already reddened flesh of her pussy. The slave girl
gave a half-stifled grunt and, with her internal struggle reflected
on her twisting
face, held her position.

Her Mistress straddled her,
knees either side of Milly’s head. “You are not to waste energy you
should be saving for me in pleasuring yourself. Are you sorry?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Milly said
quietly.

“Then prove it and kiss my
pussy. And next time you won’t get nine strokes. I’ll see if twenty
is enough to keep your fingers above your waist.”

For several minutes Pam and
Tania were left to look on while Milly served her Mistress with
tongue and lips. Persephone rose from the slave’s dew-covered face,
flushed and breathing fast and with the small points of her nipples
erect and much darker than their usual pale pink.

“I was rather hard on you
yesterday, wasn’t I?” She stroked a fingertip over the dark welts
on Pam’s right breast while the American girl fought hard not to
flinch. “Milly, fetch the double strap-on. Tania, put yours on
too.” Her smile was the predatory baring of her sharp eyeteeth that
made her look so cat-like. She flicked a finger back and forth over
Pam’s nipple. “I know I get carried away when I’m excited, darling.
I can’t help it any more than Milly can.”

The blonde slave appeared beside
her.

“Oh, no!” Pam stared. Milly held
two rubber dildos joined by an arrangement of leather straps. Both
were shiny, black rubber and both were very large. Persephone’s
fingers tightened on Pam’s nipple.

“Relax. Keep still and let her
put it on you.”

“Me! What…?” The grip on her
buzzing nipple became a firm pinch. Eve was right outside,
overpoweringly strong. Pam forced herself to suffer the indignity
of Milly’s fingers probing her sex, the tingling and moistening of
her tender membranes and their stretching under the dildo’s
penetration. They rippled as the hard rubber filled her. She looked
down at the big phallus rearing upright before her belly while
Milly buckled the straps around her. Pam had expected Persephone to
be wearing it, not herself. The slim blonde released the point of
her breast. It pulsed.

“Lie on the bed.”

“The bed? But….” She was there
to please the passengers. No one cared if her back and buttocks
were ravaged and sore. No one would care if she was caned or
flogged again. They would treat it as entertainment. Pam lay down,
wincing as her bottom and back met the mattress. The phallus Tania
wore wagged obscenely to and fro as she and Milly bound Pam’s
wrists to metal rings fixed to the
headboard.
The tight leather strap between the American
girl’s buttocks that helped keep her dildo in place was cutting
into her flesh. Her sex clamped tightly on the thick rubber as her
anxiety increased.

“You’d better have some Venus
Dust,” Persephone said.

Tania fetched it and held Pam’s
head while the blonde mistress pried her mouth open and sprinkled
the hot, fizzing powder onto her tongue. Heat spread to her gullet
as she swallowed, reached her stomach and spread lower. Persephone
propped herself on one elbow beside Pam and gently stroked her
cheek. Warily the American girl looked into her bright green eyes
and saw her dilated pupils.

“You’re very pretty, darling.”
Persephone pouted her lips. “It was bad of me to beat your lovely
breasts.” She rubbed the up-thrust mounds, making Pam hiss as their
throbbing increased. “Tania, the cane. The medium one.”

“Oh, no!”

“Shush, darling, shush.” The
blonde touched a fingertip to Pam’s lips. “You
were
disobedient, after all. Not at all how a good slave girl should
be.” She slid a hand slowly down Pam’s ribcage, over the curve of
her left hip and across her fluttering belly to take hold of the
rubber phallus and stroke its length as if it were flesh. The dildo
within Pam rubbed the quivering walls of her pussy. Heat flowed as
the drug did its wicked work. She groaned from anger, despair,
resentment, but mostly from the sudden, insistent desire for the
pleasure to increase. Tania appeared at the foot of the bed,
holding a long cane between both hands.

Pam’s heart leapt. She was
face-up on the bed. Her back and buttocks were unlikely targets.
Where would she be beaten? Breasts, belly, thighs? Oh, God!

Persephone leaned closer,
pressing little kisses along the line of Pam’s jaw. “You were a bad
girl, Ann,” she crooned, then kissed her lips. To her shame the
Venus Dust made it almost pleasant and she returned the kiss until
Persephone broke contact. “But I was a bad girl too,” the blonde
said breathily
against Pam’s mouth.
“I was
very naughty to be so cruel.” Her soft lips brushed Pam’s. “And we
know what happens to naughty girls, don’t we?”

Breathing fast, she straddled
Pam’s hips and reached back for the phallus rising from the
American girl’s thighs, her eyes glittering and a fine sheen of
perspiration coating her slender nudity. Her girl musk was strong
in the air around them. Tremors teased Pam’s sex as she watched
Persephone guide the broad head of the dildo between the narrow
crescents of her dew-bathed labia. At their apex her clitoris
swelled, gleaming pinkly. Her eyelashes fluttered and her mouth
opened to emit a short, gasping little mew. She drove her hips
downward, sinking to the hilt in a single thrust.

Persephone bucked, squirming as
her climax seized her. Her writhing moved the phallus in Pam’s sex
back and forth, tickling and tingling within her even as the welts
on her bottom and back protested under the weight of the body
forcing them deeper into the mattress. Before
the
blonde mistress
had finished wriggling she leaned forward,
rested on her elbows, and with the dildo still buried deep arched
her back to push her narrow buttocks rearwards.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” she sighed.
“Now, Tania.”

Pam’s belly flipped as the slave
girl beside the bed raised the cane. Where could she possibly mean
to strike her when most of her body was covered by Persephone’s?
Pam clamped her eyes shut and clenched her teeth as the cane swung
down. A crack like a pistol shot announced the rod had impacted
flesh. The dildo in Pam’s sex thrust deeper and the blonde’s firm
little tits rubbed on her fuller ones.

“Ooh-hoo! That hurts.”

Pam felt no pain. She opened her
eyes and stared incredulously into the face above her as it twisted
in the strangest expression of mingled torment and delight.
Persephone was having herself caned!

Chapter Five

“Ow! Ooh!” A second blow smacked
into Persephone’s bottom. “Harder, Tania.” She looked into Pam’s
eyes. “I really was very naughty. Oh! Oh!” Again the cane cracked
and bit into flesh, and again the phallus filling Pam’s pussy
thrust and sent shimmering pleasure trembling through her. Her
clit w
as rising; she could feel it pressing
on the strap holding the dildos. The Venus Dust was working all too
well. Hazily she watched Tania raise the cane and her gaze met the
slave’s, who grinned and shrugged and lashed the bamboo with a
wicked follow-through onto Persephone’s jerking buttocks.