The Slave (50 page)

“
I do,” she moaned, keeping her legs
wide. “Oh yes, I do belong to you....”

And Monica rolled gently and placed a kiss
on the top of Robin’s spread mound, licking lightly at the exposed
clit. And Robin came again, no wild thrusting this time, but a
steady pulsing that flexed and pulled at Monica’s hand until Monica
swore and laughed, and by the time Monica eased her hand out, they
were both sweaty, red with passion, and exhausted.

Later, with all the toys put away and Monica
and Robin both cooled and snuggling under the covers, Monica turned
Robin so that Robin had her back to her. Spoon fashion, they
cuddled, and Robin could feel the heat of Monica’s softer body
against her back. It was comforting beyond belief. Outside, it was
raining, hard, and the splattering sound of the drops against the
windows was a wave of white noise that was as soothing as the
softness of the bed and the heat of the two bodies in it.

Monica caressed Robin’s body with long
sweeping movements, settling her down into a position that she
found comfortable. With one hand wrapped around Robin’s waist,
Monica whispered, “I’m going to have you pierced. Right up behind
your clit. It’s the latest thing, and it looks so pretty.”

“
Thank you,” Robin
murmured back.
That sounds nice
, she thought. And she contained the
giggle that threatened to follow;
had it been so long ago that she trembled
at the thought of a piercing? And one behind my clit, at that! But
if Monica liked it....

And they listened to the rain together,
until Monica’s steady breathing indicated that she was asleep.

But Robin stayed awake, luxuriating in the
wealth of emotions and sensations that had collided in her. The
weight of Monica’s arm, and the scent of the room, the heat from
her back and cheeks, and the delicious feeling of warmth between
her legs. Even the tingling of her sore nipples was nice. And it
was so good, to sleep with a woman in her own bed, to feel her
body, the softness of her breasts, the roundness of her belly! To
fill herself in the scent of a woman’s passion, to taste the sweet
saltiness of her excitement, was so right, so fulfilling.

So nice
, Robin thought, snuggling deeper
down.
This
is what I’ve always wanted. I’m still a slave, I’m still completely
owned, but the person who owns me... loves me. And I love her. This
is the best of all possible worlds. For once, I can be sure that it
just doesn’t get any better than this.

Probably.

And outside, the sounds of the rain began to
grow faint as the nation’s capital got the first snowfall of the
season.

Bonus story from the Mystic
Rose edition of
The Slave

Robin lay supine, looking up at the ceiling,
and thought that it could really use a coat of paint. As she added
that task to her eternal list of projects, she felt a twinge of
sharp pressure alongside her clitoris, and winced.

“
OK, that’s not right,” murmured the
woman whose gloved hands were rummaging through Robin’s genitalia.
“How about here?”

The sharpness eased into the firm, but
not-painful grip that the thumb and forefinger had just a moment
before, and Robin sighed and nodded before remembering that with
her knees up and the woman’s head down, it might be hard to
see.

“
That―doesn’t hurt,” she said cautiously.
“But it feels―pinchy.”

The young woman prodded a little more,
moving her fingers up. “How does it compare to here?”

Robin ground her teeth before
she snapped out,
“The same as it felt a minute before!”
Instead, she counted to a brief
three, and said, “It feels better lower.”

“
OK, OK, let’s see. You’re a
borderline case, I think. Your clit is huge, though. Must be
nice!”

It is
, Robin thought,
when it’s not being poked and
pinched by a teenager.

Which was not exactly true. Although her
current tormentor had the ink-black hair of the teen goth crowd and
the sweet face of a middle-class former Catholic school girl, she
was solidly in her twenties, just a few years behind Robin herself.
Surely, it just seemed that they were from different
generations.

“
Well, can you do it?” Monica asked,
impatiently. Robin’s owner had taken a keen interest in the
proceedings until about fifteen minutes ago, when watching had
probably become as boring for her as feeling it all had become
tedious for Robin. She had taken a break and come back, expecting
to see the clamp in place, and her voice was just slightly
testy.

“
Sure, sure!” The young piercer pulled
her hands away and nodded. “It’ll be a little tight, that’s all.
Close to the nerve bundle. But I’ve done them like this before. I’m
gonna change gloves and start unwrapping the tools.” As she snapped
her latex gloves off and pitched them into the trash, Robin sighed.
It was a relief to get away from the tight, probing
fingertips.

And yet, perversely, it had also been
erotic, to a point. Even though she was on her back on the kitchen
table, staring up at the lazily turning ceiling fan and thinking
that just maybe her mistress should have considered a shop, instead
of bringing a piercer home.

But it had been so exciting, the night
Monica came home from a party and announced that she had found the
woman to do the long-awaited triangle piercing that she had wanted
to adorn Robin’s clit. Monica didn’t always take Robin out with her
when she went to parties, whether they were very vanilla
fundraisers, staid lesbian-only gatherings, or even the Marketplace
and non-Marketplace SM play parties. Sometimes, it depended on
whether Monica had another date, and sometimes on what role she
needed or wanted Robin to play for a night. But it was not a
hardship to skip any of them, especially the non-Marketplace
leather events. Robin had had quite enough of those in her life,
and didn’t miss them. Plus, the lack of direction from Monica about
exactly what protocol to follow when at one of those events was
problematic. There were times when Monica just didn’t understand
how much a Marketplace slave stuck out.

But that night, she had gone with some
mutual friends, leaving Robin home to welcome her back with hot tea
and a warmed bed. And when she had settled comfortably, she looked
at her slave with a sparkle in her eye and said, “I think it’s time
to get you ringed, slave!”

Robin had gasped, even as she felt a tingle
spread down between her legs. “Did you find a piercer, Monica?”

“
Yep! Cute little thing, too, if you like
goth chicks with tattoos and eyebrow piercings. She turned this
other girl into a work of art at the party―you should have seen it!
Needles everywhere, in patterns. Her name, if you can believe it,
is Arcadia. She works at some funky store called Radiance, and she
says she can do triangles, no problem, right here; we don’t have to
go to some parlor somewhere. She’s sending me a catalog of jewelry,
said it’ll take about three weeks to order something special.”
Monica’s eyes brightened at the sight of Robin’s deepening blush
and the slight look of fear in her eyes.

“
Yes, that’s right,” she crooned,
snapping her fingers to call Robin to her side. “Three weeks, give
or take a few days, and at last I’ll have that handy-dandy little
attachment point right down where it counts.”

Her fingers stroked between Robin’s legs, to
the shaved and already swollen and damp pubic mound. Her fingers
slipped up, and up, to the protective fold of flesh over her
slave’s clitoris, and gave the whole area a tweak. Robin gasped and
flushed as her owner toyed with her, imagining a delicate gold ring
tucked up there, a tiny ball resting over the exposed portion of
her clit.

“
Oh,” she said out loud, helpless in
her thoughts. “Oh yes, Monica, please, mark me! Put your ring in
me!”

“
Oh I will,” Monica assured her. “And if I
like that one, maybe we’ll get your nipples done, too. Now it’s
time to show me how grateful you are, slavegirl. Get some of those
plastic clamps―they’re going all around your pussy while you go
down on me. And they don’t come off until I get off,
understood?”

Robin understood very well. She worked
hard to please, as she always did, and thrilled to Monica’s easy
arousal and quick orgasm.

No matter how scary getting pierced was,
anything that turned her owner on this much had to be worth
doing.

Of course, when you are on your back on the
kitchen table, watching a woman with her hair dyed almost matte
black tear open a plastic bag with a large and scary looking clamp
in it while moving her head up and down to some sort of music that
was playing only in her head, the aspect of what turned an owner on
seemed to fade.

Arcadia had brought scented candles with
her, samples from the store she worked at, but they had done
nothing but make Robin sneeze, much to her embarrassment.

“
All right!” the young woman said, as
she positioned herself and her new tools between Robin’s legs. “I’m
going to mark off the points for the needle and set the clamp. Now,
it might tickle a little, and the clamp is a lot of pressure, OK?
Let’s see...”

She leaned forward again, and Monica moved
in closer, taking Robin’s left hand in both of hers. Robin felt
grateful for the touch, especially as she felt those blunt fingers
prodding her again, pinching the area behind the long bundle of
nerves that formed her clitoris.

“
Really close,” Arcadia murmured, more
to herself. “Looks like here.... and here...” Robin felt something
scratchy and soft for a second, and then again, and she could see
Arcadia’s head bobbing as she moved it from side to side to examine
her marks. Then, she saw a glint of something shiny.

“
Here’s the part people hate the most,”
Arcadia said, as something cool grazed Robin’s sensitive, bare
flesh. “But don’t get too stressed, there’s not much more to
go.”

“
Owww,” Robin said, as the clamp
tightened. “Oh―lower, lower, please!”

“
Oh! Well―OK―just a sec...” The clamp
loosened, and the tightness in Robin’s stomach released along with
the pain around her clit. She saw little balls of light dancing in
her peripheral vision, and blinked to clear her eyes. To her
humiliation, she felt them dampen with tears.

“
Heh-heh, just a little off, I guess.
Here we go, this should do it.”

The second time was much better, even though
it was still very harsh. She dimly heard a minute clicking sound,
breaking through the agony that was flooding her brain. No clamp on
her labia ever felt as scary as this one, pressing upward against
her clit, forcing the tip out of the hood, making her feel exposed
to danger. And it hurt, really hurt! Like some sort of tiny vicious
animal grinding down on her between the legs, capable of ripping
out her flesh in a single mouthful. Robin gasped for breath, and
then panted it out, struggling to slow it down the way she had been
taught.

“
That’s it!” Arcadia cried. “Hey,
you’re good at this!”

“
Such a good girl,” Monica whispered into
Robin’s ear, and Robin sniffed and sighed, and the pounding in her
ears lessened. She was a good girl. Her mistress was proud of her.
This was nothing, nothing! Just a little pain, and then it would be
all over....

“
OK, here comes the needle―take a deep
breath... Hold it... let it out... now!” Arcadia had to move the
clamp slightly and that tiny jar made Robin freeze as red and
orange sparks seemed to shoot from behind her eyelids. Then,
Robin’s eyes flew open as a brand new sharp pain hit, and by the
time she moaned, Arcadia was already laughing. “It’s in! The worst
is done, now. Monica, you wanna come and see, before I get the ring
in?”

“
Oh yeah!” Monica exclaimed. She
dropped Robin’s hand and moved down between her legs, and whistled.
“Oh, that is so hot!”

“
Isn’t it? I love seeing the needle
poking through there; it looks like it’s actually going through the
clit.”

Robin shook slightly, and gripped the edges
of the sheet-covered table. It was so very hard not to tell her to
just hurry up! The removal of the clamp made her bite her lip
sharply to keep from screaming out something profane. But there was
still more poking near her crotch, and then a cool sensation that
tickled slightly, and then she heard Monica gasp.

“
Oh my God, that is beautiful! Oh
Robin! It’s perfect!”

Robin smiled weakly as she felt something
tap her clit and realized that the ring was in at last and that
would be the gold ball that was supposed to be positioned over it
at all times from now on. The sound of Monica’s genuine glee helped
her recover from the shocking intensity of the needle passing
through her flesh, and already, she could feel her muscles relaxing
again, barely aware at how tense she had been.

“
Good deal,” Arcadia said, snapping
her gloves off again. “I already gave you the talk about how to
take care of it; are you still clear on everything?”

“
Yes, thank you,” Robin said
shakily.

“
Excellent! Don’t be hanging weights
from it or anything until it’s fully healed, OK?” She chattered on
for about a minute or two as Robin tried to stay focused, but her
words seemed to run into each other.

Pierced
, Robin thought
. I’m really pierced. If I put
my hands down there right now, there will be metal going through my
body.
But
she couldn’t make her hands move. She did finally shift her heels
over the edge of the table so she could let her legs dangle, and
the pressure eased from her knees and upper thighs. But even as she
thought about sitting up, she had a slight panic reaction―would she
crush the thing? Would it hurt?