Star Slave (14 page)

‘You went out with Felicity this morning, didn't you? Where did you go?'

‘For a walk. That's all. I didn't tell her anything. Not a thing. Honestly.'

‘Where did you go?'

‘Just up through the wood.' She hesitated fractionally.

‘I took her to the folly.'

‘And what did you do there?'

‘We talked.' Debbie felt her face growing warm. ‘I - I gave her a bit of a cuddle. And...'

‘Is that all? Tell me.'

‘I didn't know - we fooled around. I mean - I made love. I just fingered her, you know? She wanted it. She's lovely. I'm sorry, Magda. I didn't know we weren't supposed to. I mean, we all do it, don't we? The rest of us...' her voice faded.

‘But Felicity isn't one of us,' Magda said softly. ‘She's not a daughter. You had no right to touch her. Not without my permission. And you didn't have that, did you?'

‘No. But I didn't know... I'm sorry.' Debbie's tone betrayed her fear. ‘I won't do it again,' she added, in a chastened voice.

Magda smiled. ‘No, you won't do it again, my black beauty. But you have to be punished. Don't you?'

The dark eyes widened in alarm. Debbie swallowed, and then nodded.

‘Right,' Magda continued abruptly. ‘Undress.'

Debbie was wearing clothing suitable for the cold weather. She removed the thick sweater and the camisole top beneath, exposing her pointed breasts, then unhooked the skirt and stepped out of it. She wore panties of pristine white. The rich dark tones of her upper body stood out in delightful contrast. There was a narrow band of brown thigh, then the thick ribbed woollen stockings and narrow pointed ankle boots. A few more seconds and all these garments joined the others on the floor. Naked, Debbie stood and shivered, her hands clenched at her sides.

‘Lie down. On the star.'

Debbie gasped at the icy bite of the marble. Gingerly she stretched out, face down, and spread her arms and legs out wide, following the black points. She heard Magda move, heard the swish as the heavy cloak was flung back to give her freer access• to wield the instrument of punishment. It was the three-stranded whip. Debbie shivered anew as its thin tails trailed over her flexing behind, and tickled the backs of her thighs.

‘Keep still,' Magda warned, ‘or it will hurt far more.' The soft whistle was followed by a stinging line of fire right across the centre of Debbie's bottom. It burnt so fiercely that, for all her determination, she was unable to obey her mistress's dictate, and squirmed, sobbing, before she could bring herself to lie still again and spread herself as before. The whip stung again, and every muscle locked in an effort to keep her from threshing around, with a little more success this time, despite the fiery pain. She bit down on her lip until she tasted blood, trying to smother the cry threatening to burst forth.

Three more times the whip whistled and struck, until her behind was aflame with a torment that forced her to move. Her flanks jerked, her knees and feet banged against the marble in her involuntary squirming, and the sobbing became audible. Her hands reached out behind her, moved to touch the throbbing rounds, and snatched away again, for the slightest contact sent darts of fresh pain through her.

She lay there, her body shaken with her weeping, blind in her ordeal, until Magda's voice penetrated her misery. She was aware of the feet planted firmly apart near her head, and the voice coming from the heights above her. ‘You've forgotten to thank me,' it said.

‘Thuh - thank you,' Debbie stammered at once. The tears flowed, soaking her cheeks, then she gasped as she felt a sudden iciness touch her throbbing bottom. Magda was bending, spraying on a freezing substance that took away the throbbing burn immediately. Then those gentle hands were turning her, and she lay, her eyes filled with tears, and saw the hazy shape hovering over her like some winged angel. The robe was open, its edges held wide around that splendidly sculpted nakedness, which she could not see properly, did not have time to see, before it descended to cover her own eager frame.

Debbie's head swam, and with tears now of transported joy her former suffering was forgotten. Her whole being and body was alive with need. In an instant she relived the magical conjunction at her initiation, the dreamlike splendour of it, which afterwards had seemed too strangely wonderful to be true. She had thought she'd been drugged somehow; could not have experienced what her body had fantasised. But now it was happening again, that miraculous lovemaking which, her giddy mind told her, could not take place. She felt fingers moving, opening her centre once more, as before, then the penetration, not of those fingers, but of another, fabulous, more solid piece of flesh. It was an impossible amalgam of sexes as that gloriously beautiful body covered hers, and thrust onto and into her with shattering dominion.

 

‘Where's Debbie?' Felicity asked after breakfast the following day.

Magda smiled. ‘I think she's having a day in bed, sugar.

Not feeling well. Time of the month, eh?'

‘Oh, I'll pop up and see her. Sit with her a while. I know how miserable it can be if it's rough.'

‘I don't think so, lover.' Felicity stared in amazement at Magda's words. ‘Why?' the deep voice went on, mockingly. ‘You can bear to be without her for one day, surely? Let the poor girl have some rest. She won't be much use to you anyway.'

Felicity's face flooded with colour. ‘I - what on earth do you mean?' she flustered, aware of the guilt stamped on her features.

‘I know what you two were up to yesterday,' Magda answered levelly. ‘I think we'd better have a little talk.' She opened the door and courteously ushered Felicity out before her. Firmly gripping her above the left elbow, she steered her up the wide staircase and along the landing. She closed the door of Felicity's room behind them, and nodded towards the bed. ‘Sit down,' she said pleasantly, and Felicity obeyed.

‘You're a promiscuous little slag, aren't you?' Magda continued, in the same light tone.

Felicity blushed deeply, and her eyes instantly blurred with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She could think of no defence against the accusation. ‘I'm sorry,' she eventually muttered. ‘I just thought everyone here seems so free... with everyone else.' She paused. ‘It wasn't my idea.' She felt more and more like a sulky schoolgirl. ‘It was Debbie who suggested going up to the folly. Debbie who - did everything. I didn't—'

‘And you put up a terrific fight, eh?' Magda interrupted dryly. ‘It was all very much against your will. A case of rapine, was it?'

Felicity shrugged miserably. ‘No, not exactly,' she murmured, head down. ‘I didn't think you'd mind. You all seem like I said... so close.'

‘We are, my dear. We're very close. Which is why nothing happens around here - to the girls, that is - without my say-so. Didn't you realise that?'

Felicity shrugged uncomfortably. She was beginning to wonder if Debbie's absence today had anything to do with yesterday's incident, and she felt a tiny pulse of both fear and excitement begin to beat deep within.

‘I asked you a question,' Magda prompted gently, and again Felicity felt reduced to the status of a naughty child.

‘I didn't know I had to have your permission,' Felicity replied, with a hint of defiance she didn't really feel.

‘You're my girl,' Magda said strongly. Again, Felicity felt an inward shiver of delight at the dominance in that phrase. ‘At least while you're here. And so is Debbie. You don't do anything without my permission.'

Felicity gasped at the bold directness of the statement.

She stared up at the tall figure standing over her, but said nothing.

‘I think we need a little lesson,' the deep tones went on. ‘Lie down on your tum. It's all right; you can leave your boots on.'

Part of her shocked at her own compliance, Felicity found herself obediently stretching out on the bed. ‘What are you going to do?' she asked breathlessly. ‘You're not going to beat me too?' Her voice carried a trace of bitterness.

Magda chuckled. ‘Just a little, baby. We've got to teach you obedience.'

Felicity was too amazed to put up any real resistance when she felt her arms captured, and a pair of cuffs slipped over her wrists. They were softly padded on their inner surface, and linked by a short chain that Magda padlocked to the bed frame behind the pillow. She began, tardily, to twist a little in protest as Magda plucked up her short jumper and unfastened the waistband of her jeans. She hauled them down off her hips, then rolled the tiny black briefs down off her bottom.

A large hand explored the dimpling cheeks, caressing, stroking, the fingers delving into the tightness of the cleft until Felicity was writhing once more, though not with any thought of escape. Magda leaned close, her lips touching behind Felicity's ear. ‘Love taps, my darling,' she crooned. ‘Be a good girl and show me how brave you are.'

The bed rocked slightly as she stood up. Felicity's bottom clenched and she began to whimper. ‘Don't hurt me,' she pleaded feebly. ‘I can't stand it.'

The first blow landed with a loud splat. It stung, and she yelped, stiffening instinctively. The second blow fell almost immediately. The instrument was a slipper, the pliant sole raising blotchy outlines on the quivering rounds until they were soon a rosy red. Though Felicity flinched at each burning slap, she remained otherwise still, her loins thrusting into the yielding mattress, her face buried in the pillow to smother her cries.

The pain burned steadily, and she knew it was over. Strangely, the tears flowed more freely then, her sobs growing more tempestuous. To her surprise, and dismay, she heard the door open and close, and she lay alone in the bright room, weeping, arms pinioned above her head, her behind throbbing painfully.

 

‘Where the hell have you been?' Stella hissed, keeping her voice low so that the crowds bustling round them would not hear. ‘People have been looking everywhere for you.'

It was the first time the two had met since their disastrous clash two weeks ago. Lord B had been right when he'd said they would need their skill as actresses when they were next exposed to the public gaze. The strain of appearing not only bosom friends but lovers was already, after only minutes, beginning to tell. What made it worse was that they were doing an interview and some intimate photo shots for
Liberelle
, a recently released women's magazine which no one was sure how to pronounce but which most people, and all with-it females under forty-five, had heard of.

They were using one of the interior sets at the studio, one that figured famously in the screen epic and was most appropriate to the tone of the article; the bedroom shared by Kathy Weldon and Stella Mann. Several other agencies had been brought in on the pic shoot, though the interview was exclusive to
Liberelle
. That had been bad enough. But now they were required to change into the flimsy nightwear which had featured so much in the film, with the hard bitch from the magazine leering and chatting cosily all the while.

‘I'd like a shot of the two in bed,' she announced dramatically to the room. ‘Starkers, if that's all right.'

‘Why not?' Stella beamed. ‘It wouldn't be the first time,' she flashed a withering glare of warning at Felicity, ‘and it certainly won't be the last.' She laughed lecherously, and Felicity fought to keep the revulsion from her face.

They slipped off their negligees and slid under the covers, Felicity only too well aware of the ogling cameramen itching to snap them. The
Liberelle
woman deftly arranged them, fluffing up pillows and lowering the sheet until their breasts were fully exposed.

‘We've got to have your titties, darlings,' she brayed, while the male photographers grunted their approval. ‘Our readers would never forgive us. In fact they'd like a lot more - well, wouldn't we all, eh lads? But then again, I'd like to keep my job,' and she tittered affectedly.

Felicity felt Stella's arm slide around her, drawing her into an embrace, and cameras whirred incessantly.

It was Ally who finally got rid of them all. Felicity refused to budge until everyone had left. She dragged on the pearly negligee before she got out of bed. Though it covered her from shoulders to feet, its translucence barely hid the naked beauty beneath. But it would do until she got back to the dressing room.

In its spartan privacy she quickly hauled on her clothes, glad to be decently covered under Stella's appraising stare. ‘You certainly went to ground all right,' the blonde pursued vindictively. ‘Been sharing a love nest with your giant dyke?'

Felicity tried not to let her emotion show. She answered lightly, ‘How did you guess?' Stella had planted herself in front of the door, and Felicity stood in front of her. ‘Do I have to call security?' she asked acidly. ‘I promise I'll sue you for assault this time.' She flinched in alarm as the lovely face thrust close to hers.