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When the woman backed off for several seconds, both slave and mistress could rest; though there was little relaxation for the embattled slave. Charlotte needed to remain vigilant, keeping her mind fixed on the sensations lavished on her body. If she could focus on the whole of it, she could reach that moment of bliss she so treasured at such times. To have that would be Charlotte’s single vindication in the awful ordeal.
Mistress Gwnyth, however, was not handling this punishment in the manner of a master. There would be no extended whipping—no rise and fall, nor ebb and flow, no delightful crest when her sexual desire would find that delicious peak of pheromones and body lust. Gwnyth’s planned torture was a distinctly feminine one—and one, yet, untried in the form she would desire for the Lady Charlotte. Being given such free reign with this shameful wife inspired her genius in ways that set her own body reeling with anticipation.
Having welted the slave’s fair skin and heard her miserable cries, she was now bored with the banality of the act. Moving to her favorite abuse, she centered on the slave’s ripe vagina. Swathing one leather fist in Charlotte’s pussy juices, she slowly eased the whole of her hand into the woman’s opening. As was the rest of her petite form, Gwnyth’s fists were so tiny that without much effort her leather-gloved digits, knuckles and palm slid easily beyond the doorway. The bound slave gasped finding the center of her widened beyond limits she might have at one time placed upon herself. Sensation tore through her in fantastic waves. The thrust and beat of the invading hand made it seem as though she might swallow the whole woman inside her. When she could focus on sensation, she survived; when she focused on the fullness, she felt reconciled with the crudity. But when the Mistress began to tease her from behind, Charlotte began to panic. Gwnyth’s one hand was driven deeply into her cunt, so that her second hand co
uld invade her ass.
“Do it the easy way and relax, or bear down and feel the pain—it doesn’t matter to me, slut,” Gwnyth chided her. “Both of these will fit inside your whorish body and scour you out.”
“Ah, milady, nooooooo!” Charlotte’s cry fell on deaf ears, and on a crowd more interested in seeing this abuse than worrying over the terror it might cause.
Greased and ready with her second hand, Gwnyth began to open the back door, slowly easing first her fingers and then her entire hand up the channel. Inching her way into Charlotte’s interior, the mistress’s body swelled with delight while her pussy grew raw with desire the more she penetrated the slave’s spasming holes.
The crowd about them cheered so their awful roar drowned Charlotte’s pleas for mercy. There was no mercy, there was only holding on. Forcing her body to relax, the defamed wife made her mind let go of the pain. Her muscles began to ease and her sphincter softened; and all the rings of flesh within her relaxed as the two fists began their fucking. The petite femme between her thighs was an adamant tigress with a skill for depravity that was only matched by the peerless mastery of Caius, Tristan and Mountbane himself. Her glee extended all about the room, mesmerizing even the Lord himself as the throng watched fascinated. Even Charlotte’s slave companions in this abuse were attentive to the scene when their masters stopped long enough to enjoy the sight themselves.
“You’re going to cum, harlot,” Gwnyth roared at her like an angry cat.
Charlotte couldn’t speak, but she could answer with her physical reply. So full now… something beyond her own body raged within her, as though she were in the midst of a thunderstorm and there was lightning all around … and hail on her insides … Everything thundered inside to the frenetic beat of Gwnyth’s rhythms.
“Cum, you filthy whore, cum now!” she ordered.
Could it be that Charlotte was inside the woman’s head? Inside her domain and lost to her own? Could it be that she’d heard the command, and knew to obey? That to disobey would cause her grievous consequences? Did she know all that and give up her cum? Or was she simply ready on her own; and taking herself into ecstasy was simply the natural thing to do? Charlotte might ponder these questions some days later when she thought back on the amazing moment. But she had no answers now, save one.
“Cum whore!” Gwnyth spat out a second time.
A second later, in answer to the demand, Charlotte bore down and climaxed… heart racing, body twisting, groin aflame. She came, and came again on Gwnyth’s fists until every bit of pleasured pain had passed, and her harridan mistress finally let her fists snake from the widened cavities.
“I want her on her back face up,” the woman snarled. Her demand was answered as though she were at the helm of this small fiefdom. Two male attendants worked quickly, having the wasted slave as ordered lying on the dais. Charlotte was, in fact, glad for the reprieve from the exhausting physical tortures. Though her torso, breasts and groin were still bound with ropes, the tension of those ropes had loosened during the ordeal. She could now relax her shoulders and ease some of the devastation in her groin.
Still, Charlotte was not yet finished for the night with one task left to perform.
The commotion had died away and her wild orgasm ended, and a hush fell over the room. No one seemed to move. All eyes were focused on the mistress of the night. Gwnyth made them stare at her; something in her haughty manner bid them seek her out. Her cruel strut about the dais, the toss of her head, and the way her red mouth formed its seductive grimace suggested that her devious schemes had not seen their end. In truth, the woman was crawling with her own desire, revealing such anxiety about her physical body that the air was rife with curiosity.
She stalked Charlotte, while the slave stared up at her, eyes transfixed. “You suck cunt, too?” she wondered. Unconsciously, the slave licked her lips, not knowing even then what she was revealing about herself. Pleased, Gwnyth stood over her, a foot on either side of her face, and stared down. “You’ll suck mine now, slave,” she told her. And, in a surprising turn of events, the slave-turned dominating bitch untied several tiny ties that held the two sides of her leather pants together. With these undone, front and back, she bent down crouching over Charlotte’s face, her pants pulled wide apart. With her naked body cleft in full view—pussy and ass rent wide, she gave her final order, “Finish me, whore, and do it well.”
The sour sweet fragrance of femininity wafted into Charlotte’s face as Gwnyth’s pussy descended to the slave’s mouth. As commanded, Charlotte opened her lips and latching on to the swollen clitoris, she began to suck.
Gwnyth moved out of the crouch, to her knees some seconds later, sitting squarely on the slave’s face, so her entire cleft could be vigorously worked.
“Oooo, yess, yes, yes….” the mistress hissed, while her nails clawed at Charlotte’s hair. “Go to it, whore! Make me cum.”
Awed, the silent crowd stood riveted on the scene as one leather-clad beauty with snow-white skin and a raven’s black hair wiggled her sex over her bound blonde slave. They watched the slave’s long tongue work its way inside the hole; and then witnessed how her cheeks sucked in as her mouth slurped Gwnyth’s rich cream. Finally, as the tension inside the mistress/bitch began to expand, the gathered numbers beheld the astonishing vision of these two locked body parts working to a frantic end. The mistress thrashed against her harlot, and then came with a body roar that would shake sleeping giants from their slumber.
Gwnyth sat back on Charlotte’s chest when she was done.
“Does that please you, sire?” she turned to ask Mountbane, as her voice ran with mockery.
“Indeed,” he looked quite pleased. “I never realized you were such an inventive woman. I should have you do this to my wife daily.”
“I’d be only too glad to accommodate you,” she replied.
“I’m sure you would,” he agreed. “Now, come down. I may admire your vitality, kind woman, but I will allow no woman such command in my world.”
Gwnyth pushed to her feet and moved off, still haughtily bearing her beautiful body with a poise no one would see from a woman in Ilusia again—or at least for some time.
“That is too bad, kind sir,” she responded to his comment. “I assure you, you’ll miss a world of pleasure.”
“So be it, then.”
