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The baron didn’t slow the rhythm of his thrusting at all, at first.
“A fine idea,” he said in a low murmur, his voice even deeper and huskier with the pleasure I knew came from my mouth, and it seemed, the sight of me on my knees before him with my panties around my thighs and my hands on my bottom cheeks. My hips bucked again just at the idea that my master took such enjoyment from abasing me, and the delight Mistress Franla bestowed with her knowing fingers spread out through my limbs and made them tremble. My climax loomed before me. I moaned desperately around the invading bulk of my master’s hardness, much too big for my little mouth.
Abruptly, he changed his grip on my head. His left hand pulled away while the fingers of his right twined more deeply into my hair. Then, roughly, he took my mouth off his cock, and he began to pump the rigid shaft again in his left hand. I felt him bend my head again, turning it to the side and lowering it so that I got my first close-up view of the little pouch beneath my master’s penis—the scrotum, I understood from my mistress’ words.
Framed by the black silk of his trousers, it seemed darker there, between his thighs, then anywhere else I could imagine. Even the far reaches of space, even at the edge of a black hole, there shone the light of the stars. I took little breaths through my nose as I worked my mouth, trying instinctively to make it feel like it belonged to me despite the strangeness and the ache after what my master’s huge, hard penis had done there. I caught the fragrance in that dark place, and it seemed to make it even darker: the lewd, masculine scent came so strongly from that part of him that it made me feel faint.
But all of those thoughts and feelings went through me in less than a moment, because my master clearly had no intention of delaying whatever pleasure it would provide to do as Mistress Franla had suggested. He turned my head and bent my face down, and he pressed my closed lips against the spot just at the base of his cock.
“Kiss them…” he murmured in that thick voice that sent a shock of need through me all by itself. “Kiss my balls, Wetquim. That’s where my seed is stored… the sperm I’m going to fill you up with.”
I let out a whimper. The teaching tone of these words, the condescension of them, the obviously earnest intention, in the midst of his dominant pleasure, to help me learn about these obscene acts… it went together with the caressing fingersbetween my thighs and the heat in my backside and the warm, fragrant darkness of the depths of my master’s lap.
I kissed and sobbed. I thought I could sense two roundish things moving inside the wrinkly sack of his lordship’s scrotum. Did they really have his seed in them? How much of it? Would he really… fill me up? Did he mean to make a baby inside me, even if he also used the parts of me where life would not take root?
“Kiss and lick, lick and kiss,” came my mistress’ voice in my ear. “Perhaps your master will come when you do, and you will be allowed to taste his sperm, as he said.”
It all became terribly confused and jumbled in my mind, because all of it together sent me over the edge of my need and my pleasure, and my body began to move without any control except the hands of my master and my mistress. I clutched at the punished globes of my bottom as I swayed back and forth, held up by an arm my mistress had put around my waist to keep me in a position where I could continue to please my master, kissing and licking, licking and kissing his balls. His left hand flashed up and down on his cock, and then he moved my head again, and he opened my mouth with his right hand beneath my chin, and he put only the tip of his penis inside, on my tongue.
I cried out from ecstasy and from surprise, and then I felt the cock jerk and move, as if in answer to the helpless motion of my whole body with my coming. A hot jet spurted into my mouth, and then, with another movement of his manhood, another.
“Swallow it all, Wetquim,” said Mistress Franla. “It is a great honor for you to have your master’s seed inside your body.”
CHAPTER 24
Chalondra
My mistress led me on trembling legs from the study to my master’s sumptuous bedroom.
“You did very well, Chalondra,” she murmured, just before we turned the corner to walk through the double doors that had just opened inward as if by magic. “I know how difficult it was for you, and the night will only become more difficult, but if you remember that you have no choice other than to submit to your master, it will seem easier.”
My mouth felt strange, as if my kneeling service had alienated it from me, as if it no longer belonged to me now that I had tasted my master’s seed and swallowed it in obedience to his command. My jaw ached and my lips felt numb. More dismayingly, my mind seemed to revolt against itself.
The low, confiding tone in Mistress Franla’s voice brought a warmth of involuntary pride to my chest. The spirited part of me, though, which had seemed to raise its head at the same timemy mistress had raised me from my knees, tried to push that warmth away, deny it, freeze it.
Still, I followed along behind the older woman’s slow progress, feeling the terrible contrast between her modest gray dress and the damp panties Mistress Franla had made me pull up before she bid me come with her. My eyes remained lowered to the ornate carpet that ran along the corridor, but I could see the hem of my mistress’ dress, and a hint of her elegant if simple shoes as she moved along at a stately, measured pace. The sight of my own bare feet, bare calves, bare knees, sent little blushes into my cheeks with practically every step.
I realized, as Mistress Franla led the way into the vast-seeming room beyond the magic doors, that I was holding my hands at my sides, grasping my hips as if my master or my mistress had commanded me to keep them out of the way. Under my palms I could feel the lacy waistband of my panties, and my blush grew hotter as I wondered if I had my hands there to remind myself of my bonded condition—as if I had taken to reassuring myself that indeed, just as my mistress had told me, I had no choice.
The carpet in the hallway gave way to a much deeper, thicker one, in a shade of red that reminded me of the uniforms of the company agents. That similarity sent a little shudder through my body, and I found myself raising my eyes as if to escape from the sight.
What I saw, the enormous room I couldn’t take my widening eyes off of once I had glimpsed it, seemed like the emperor’s bedchamber from one of the school stories of Vionian imperial glory. The bed, which dominated the room, seemed large enough for five men Baron Gravamir’s size to sleep comfortably.
Or for his lordship and a dozen bed girls like me, my imagination contributed, making me swallow hard at the thought.
It bore a coverlet in deep purple, and it had posts, ornate but very solid, at its four corners. They seemed made out of some ancient wood—the mightyoak of old Earth, sprang to mind, from some half-forgotten story. I couldn’t begin to tell how ancient this bed of my noble master must be.
Looking at my master’s bed, the place where I knew he intended to use me for his pleasure, my heart quailed. I remembered the way his lordship had dismissed me, once Mistress Franla had stood me up in front of me, and I had raised my panties at her command.
My eyes had remained on his lap, fascinated by the way his cock, still glistening with my saliva, seemed to have become soft and much smaller after his climax. His right hand had reached out, as I watched, and taken very gentle hold between my thighs. I had whimpered, dismayed and confused at the way his light fondling reawakened the need there with such terrible ease. Then my eyes had widened, because my master’s penis had begun to grow, very visibly, as if in response to the mere act of touching my pussy through the lace of the tiny panties he had dressed me in.
“Look at me, Wetquim,” he had murmured. With a hot blush, I had raised my gaze to his handsome, bearded face. He had smiled, but not a gentle smile. “Mistress will take you to my bedchamber now and leave you there. I will join you in a few minutes to deflower this pretty cunny. You should do your best to prepare yourself to obey me.”
There, only a few meters from his bed, my feet suddenly seemed entangled in the deep pile of the carpet. I found that my hands had begun to creep around my hips, tentatively moving to cover the too-narrow front of my underwear.
Mistress Franla turned to me as if she could sense my sudden reluctance. She had a kind, almost sad smile on her face.
“Now at least you know what lies at the heart of the mystery, Chalondra,” she said in a soft voice, reaching out her hand unexpectedly to stroke my cheek.
