The Captive (17 page)

“I could tell by the expression on those perfect features,” said Paige huskily, stepping close to Zacora, “that you were rebelling.” The manacles were held to the long dusky nose and the perfume was sniffed hungrily. A smile wreathed the dark features, analytical and knowing. “You seem to be easily stimulated,” she surmised.

Zacora held her breath with relief. At least Paige had not realised that some of her stimulation came from her own thoughts of Harold, not from Bella’s caresses.

“How would you care to see her whipped, mistress?” The plump little maid was beaming with eagerness, her round face flushed with barely suppressed excitement.

The captive girl watched, trembling, as Bella tucked her full petticoats into a tightly cinched belt. Horror made the sapphire eyes widen to their fullest extent as she saw how the maid’s sex was treated. A solid metal block, obviously tailored to fit by a skilled iron smith, covered the folds from front to rear. It was held in place by a leather harness around the waist and top of chubby thighs.

“She is quite used to it,” said Paige matter-of-factly, following Zacora’s horrified gaze. “It causes her no discomfort - now.” She sniffed at the delicate musk still exuding from the chains. “I expect at first it was a little uncomfortable.”

Bella gave a barely perceptible nod. “You might find out what it’s like, if you don’t please the Prince.”

The sapphire eyes darted from one to the other of the two women, querying what a female must do to prevent such treatment. Zacora felt herself tighten with fear; the moist passage closing involuntarily and the bud hiding amidst the pink folds.

Finishing with the chains, Paige discarded them and brushed her naked breasts against Zacora’s. The captive felt the strangeness of the gold nipple jewellery whispering against her unadorned breasts. “Press up your pouch as high as you can,” said Paige in a soft command. “Let me feel your buttock cleft pressing to the front.”

Bella was hopping impatiently from foot to foot behind them. “The whipping, mistress,” she reminded Paige, “the whipping!”

“You impetuous little minx!” chided Paige. “Be still until I’m ready.” She gyrated her jewelled bush against Zacora’s carefully posed sex pouch, making the soft silver fronds excite the sensitive pink flesh until the captive girl began to shudder with the stimulation. “Bella loves to punish,” explained Paige. “She was one of the Prince’s potential consorts, but like all the others, she failed to produce an heir. The block is her punishment.”

If Paige had not been ready to hold her, Zacora would have collapsed with shock. As it was she felt the blood drain from her already pale features; felt her mouth become dry and her tongue cling to the roof of her mouth.

“But never fear,” soothed Paige, “we shall prepare you so that you will not fail.”

Had she been able to speak Zacora would have asked why the punishment was so severe. Surely, she thought, the metal grazed the soft inner thighs of the victims when they walked. And how could they perform natural functions against such a rigid occlusion? Were they forbidden any sexual relief by their own hand or by the flesh of a lover?

“It isn’t very nice, Bella, is it?” asked Paige, pressing her jewelled sex pad into Zacora’s offered pouch.

Bella’s chubby cheeks were sucked inwards and her nostrils flared as she watched her mistress pleasure the captive. “No,” she hissed in frustration. “I’m only allowed to remove the block twice a day, and then I am watched to make sure that I do not pleasure myself.”

Paige’s scarlet lips kissed the captive’s nipples, roving her tongue lovingly around each tight pink bud as she cupped the under swell with her gloved hands. The sensations were like nothing Zacora had felt before. They were mystical; transporting her to a realm where nothing had consequence apart from sexual pleasure. In this realm there were colours beyond the hues of the rainbow; there were enchanting scents. She tasted the food of the gods and she heard dulcet sounds that cossetted the ears. Her orgasm was not centred in her sex bud, but encompassed her whole body. Every centimetre of skin, every pore and every hair received a share of precious joy.

As she shuddered down from the elysian field Zacora felt Paige delving deep between her precious folds. The dark features of the other woman were tense with excitement; the nostrils flared on the slim nose, a smile curving the scarlet lips, the dark eyes glittering beneath dark and lowered lashes. The gloved hand first cupped the sex pouch, feeling its heat and fullness.

The touch, light and gentle though it was, made Zacora flush with shame. She was being tested like an animal on heat. The folds were parted with a finger and thumb, exposing an inflamed bud. Paige’s fingers pinched this, stroking the moist little shaft from root to tip. In spite of the humiliation Zacora felt swirls of renewed excitement coursing around the inner flesh of her belly, making the nerves stretch to breaking point, but never quite reaching a peak. She felt her head fall back, making the platinum tresses sway in soft curls against her naked back.

“I produce beautiful feelings for you, my darling, do I not?” breathed Paige, planting soft kisses on Zacora’s exposed throat.

Zacora tried not to respond, but then two expert fingers were plunged into the cushiony wetness of her vagina. They were driven in to the hilt, leaving a thumb to play with the thrusting bud which jutted so eagerly from the gleaming bed of tender flesh.

The fingers drove in rhythmically causing the girl to arch backwards, the better to receive the forced attentions. “Oh, yes, my darling,” hissed Paige, “don’t hold back. Let the feelings flow over you like water from a warm spring.”

Breasts full and tender, pouting upwards from her arched body, Zacora sighed her pleasure through lips circled to a perfect O. So great was her climax that her humiliation faded into the background of her mind.

Paige laughed as she slowly slid her fingers from the wildly fluttering sex folds. “Definitely, not so prim,” she remarked, lifting the fingers to examine the moisture which gathered there. It lay on the black glove like pearls of dew gathered on the petals of a flower in the early morning. “A beautiful texture, my darling.” Paige brought the fingers to her nose, sniffing the heady musk. “The aroma of a wood nymph,” she said dreamily. The dark eyes became glazed for long moments as she allowed the scent to permeate her sensitive sinuses. “Are you sure you are human?” Paige’s eyes became cautious and searching.

A weakness made the slender body of the captive slump in her ankle manacles, tumbling Zacora to the floor. The silver blonde hair flowed like a cloak around the fallen form, covering the creamy shoulders and allowing the women the merest glimpse of the full breasts.

“The orgasm was strong,” said Paige kindly, “we must give her time to take her restitution.” She placed the dewy fingers between her scarlet lips, tasting the coating left by the deep foraging into Zacora’s depths. The expression on her face was thoughtful.

Bella cracked the soft strands of the lash she had chosen against her thigh. “She’s stalling, mistress,” she said pettishly.

“Perhaps you are right, Bella,” replied Paige. She prodded Zacora with the toe of her boot. “Up you get, girl. No more of the play-acting.”

Weakly, on trembling legs, Zacora got to her feet, cursing in her mind the shackles that held her fast to the stone floor. She kept her head bowed, not looking at either of the women, but hiding behind the billowing curtain of platinum hair.

Paige shrugged. “I think it is time for the punishment,” she decided. “I know that there is something very special about you,” she said softly, reaching into the curtain of hair to lift Zacora’s chin, “and one day I shall discover it.”

Bella, eager to begin the chastisement, spread Zacora’s legs apart. The chains holding the captive’s feet to the floor were loose enough for considerable width to be placed between the girl’s shapely limbs.

“Yes, nice and wide, Bella,” agreed Paige. “Open her up.” She stroked the captive’s full buttocks, feeling the satiny smoothness of the skin and the tautness of the athletic muscles.

Legs fully stretched, Zacora lifted her head, giving Paige a sapphire blue challenge with her proud eyes. She smiled a little as she saw the corsetted figure give a barely perceptible shudder.

“Hands flat on the ground,” ordered Paige, trying to ignore Zacora’s challenge. “We shouldn’t wish you to fall and hurt yourself.”

Once again Zacora was forced to submit to humiliating exposure of her perfect body. She knew that her rear mouth was fully revealed to the women. No doubt it was moist and pouting, but she hoped that it would not pulse and give them further satisfaction. She felt Paige’s hands part her buttocks, examining that very orifice, circling it with the tip of her finger to test the flexibility of the puckered skin.

“No doubt the Prince will wish to plunder that further,” the woman said, hissing her words cruelly. “He finds it stimulating to switch from one to the other of a woman’s offerings. This one -” Paige probed the rear mouth with a finger still dewy with Zacora’s pleasure juices “- so tight and gripping, and this one so flexible and slippery as silk,” The fingers stroked the labia fluttering nervously across the girl’s female entrance.

“A truly delicious sight,” breathed Paige, standing back and allowing her eyes to stray up the long magnificent pillar of Zacora’s splayed legs to the displayed silver fronded plump labia.

Paige made a careful inspection of the creamy bottom cheeks, stroking the stripes left by the soft lash. “Nicely swollen,” she said, admiration in her voice, “but not welted.” She took a moment to peer into the tangled mass of silver curls. “Hm,” she murmured thoughtfully, “no tears. No expression either way. Perhaps a tinge harder next time, Bella.”

The maid was only to happy to oblige. “Whatever you command, mistress. May I be so bold as to suggest a light slap in that open rear crevice to enhance the rosiness of the bud?”

Giving the maid a smile, Paige nodded, watching the operation with growing interest.

The victim gave another sigh; a deep intake of breath to relax her apprehensive nerve endings. The soft thongs of the whip were precisely placed, flicking the spread valley in which nuzzled the sensitive bud. Paige was delighted to see the bud purse at the soft caress of a lash. It began to pulse, seeming to reach out and grip the tip of the thong.

Zacora felt her pale face blush beneath the soft fall of the silken tresses and she gave up a silent plea that Paige would not notice the reaction, but her plea was in vain.

“You little darling!” Paige exclaimed. “The front slit is pearling nicely. And the clitoris is so delicately swollen, so full and engorged.”

To her shame Zacora felt the maid’s tiny hands smoothing the cream outwards into the silver forest of the labial growth. For all her meditation, her pleasure was revealed for the women. She felt herself rising up the inexorable slopes leading her to another crashing climax. Her mind pleaded for mercy but her buttocks and sex were posed for yet more punishment.

The shapely bottom presented itself, parted and ready for the next flourish of the caressing thongs. The moist labia, swollen and open, lifted obediently, the better to receive the benefit of the chastisement. Zacora, to her deep humiliation, felt her hot sap gathering on the already soaked silver bush. A trickle of the luscious juice made its way down a stately thigh. She could feel the urgent throb of her clitoris, projecting from her fluttering folds. It was jutting out of the tiny hood, begging for fulfilment.

“Oh, how pretty!” exulted Paige.

“Yes, mistress,” agreed the maid, but Zacora knew that the serving wench was envious; wanted so badly to free her own sex from its dreadful metal prison.

“Won’t the Prince just adore her?”

Zacora saw, through the lovely arch of her splayed thighs, that Paige’s handsome swarthy face was inches from her fully revealed nether slit. The woman’s hands, although not touching her flesh, were tracing each delicate curve. “Oh, you’re so beautiful,” Paige whispered. “And in a moment, when Bella has finished, I shall kiss you - there.” The tip of the gloved finger glanced across the naked tip of the glowing clitoris.

Zacora shuddered as she found herself bearing back towards Paige’s softly parted scarlet lips. “Now, now!” she heard Paige chide, an amused chuckle whispering from the upturned mouth. “Patience, my little one. All good things come to those who wait. Carry on, Bella.”

The supple thongs bore down again upon the offered flesh. They were placed, this time, so that they spread like a fan across all the posed parts. The blow was harder and Zacora stumbled forward a pace.

“That was hardly necessary, Bella,” said Paige crossly. “You know perfectly well that she must not be damaged. Let me look at her skin.”

Bella was pushed out of the way and Paige smoothed the welted buttocks, tracing each lash mark with gentle fingers. “If these bruise I shall have to deliver you for punishment to Freya and you know how she loves to give you maids the full treatment.”

Zacora heard a harsh intake of fear from Bella.

“Now,” continued Paige, ignoring Bella’s show of apprehension, “continue, but I want the next strokes to be quicker.”

Tears filled the sapphire blue eyes. Would her beatings never end? Zacora offered up a silent plea that the next stroke would touch her female bud which hovered so close to the brink of ecstasy. Humiliated by her position though she might be, she knew she must suffer the agony of the sexual appetite with which she had been cursed. But the thongs expertly skirted the pouting bud, leaving it jerking from the folds, untouched but begging.

“Enough,” commanded Paige at last.

Zacora’s buttocks were on fire. The normally pale flesh was swollen and each cheek was diverged from its natural position. She could feel her rear mouth pulsing, opening and closing as though urging intrusion. Juices were copious, drooling warmly down the inner skin of each lovely thigh. If only she was allowed to touch the heated bud probing from the silver folds her agony would be over, her climax would be instantaneous, but she knew that this was forbidden.