Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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“Not Bad... not bad at all...”
It was Glenda who spoke. At her feet knelt Julia in the required slave posture, with hands clasped at the back of the neck, back straight, thighs splayed.
“I am glad you approve,” said Quentin, smiling down possessively. Julia looked no different, he thought, except that possibly her features were more set in a mask-like mould of control. Glenda raised a bare foot and jabbed at one of Julia’s breasts with a toe. “Good boobs,” she said.
“Yes,” nodded Quentin, “and an excellent backside too.”
“I haven’t studied that yet,” said Glenda.
“Show your Mistress, slave,” ordered Quentin sharply. It was a delight to be able to show Julia off in this way to another woman.
Instantly Julia twisted around and thrust her hindquarters high in the air.
“Mmmm...” said Glenda. “I see what you mean...”
On her brittle face gleamed cruel pleasure. It was quite wonderful to see a woman being made to do such things. But still she found it incredible that she could be made to do them. Could she herself, she wondered, be made to abuse herself so? It certainly did not seem possible. Yet, from all she had heard of the Julia of former days, she was as proud, arrogant and as stubborn as they make them. Yes.. it was quite remarkable.
“Alright, kneel up again, Julia,” said Quentin.
Julia resumed her former posture, her face still impassive. She had gained a considerable amount more control since I was last here, thought Quentin. Now she is more like Melissa. Not only tougher physically, but tougher mentally. But, naturally, these things took time. By comparison, Marisa was still very much a novice.
“I believe you once considered Julia a bit of a tigress,” drawled Glenda, walking slowly round the kneeling figure.
“True,” nodded Quentin. “And it was true. Still as Miss Judith told me on the first day I came here, they are adept at taming tigresses on the ‘Paradise’.”
“So I see...” Deliberately Glenda was trying to goad Julia into some action. By both contemptuous words and looks. It did not seem possible to her that any woman could just kneel there and take it all without reacting in some way. Had she not one atom of pride left? But then, of course, Glenda was not cognisant of the extent and depth of Madame Vesta’s training methods. It was understandable that she should be incredulous.
“Did you get a birching on the day I last left, Julia?” enquired Quentin. He turned to Glenda. “I’m afraid she made rather an exhibition of herself on the deck... kept clawing at me and hollering for me to take her with me. Before you’d even seen her, mark you, my dear. I agreed that she be punished.” He turned back to Julia and saw the tic of the nerve in her cheek.
“No, Master,” she answered softly.
“Not birched?” queried Quentin, raising his eyebrows.
“No, Master... Madame Vesta had me put on the Ring...”
“Ahhhh!”
“...and flogged me until I was insensible, Master.”
“What’s the Ring?” asked Glenda.
Briefly, Quentin explained the working of this pinioning device.. and also the instrument which was used. Glenda nodded, eyes sharp.
“And then you scrubbed decks for a week?”
“Yes, Master...”
“And went on the treadmill?”
“Yes, Master...”
Quentin smiled as if he had done Julia a good turn. “Ah well,” he said casually, “it all helps to keep you fit and your figure in trim.”
For the first time, Julia’s set features quivered uncontrollably and she bit her lower lip. It was bitterly cruel to hear such agonies so lightly dismissed.
The new husband turned to the new wife. “Well,” he asked, “is it O.K. by you if we share her as a personal slave? Take her back with us?”
There was a sudden light in Julia’s eyes...
“I think so,” answered Glenda. “But I am not yet quite sure.”
“You mean, perhaps, you’d like Julia to service you first, before you make up your mind?”
“That’s right,” answered Glenda.
Both knew, of course, that Julia was not a lesbian. Also, as had been reported by Miss Judith - who had recently given her some training in the practices - she had a very natural revulsion for them. Something, which has already been said, pleased Glenda, who had always wanted an unwilling girl.
She unbuttoned her white dressing gown and let it slip to the floor. Her body was hard, smooth and white. Small breasts, large nipples, flat bottom, slim limbs. A wellpreserved body.
“This is the body you will have to serve, Julia,” said Glenda.
“Y-Yes, Mistress,” whispered Julia, her eyes flickering, her nervous tic returning.
Now, thought Quentin, the strain is really on.
“Serve.. and please, Julia...”
“Yes... Mistress...”
“You have some training, I believe?”
“Only... only a l-little Mistress... Miss J-Judith... she...”
“Alright,” said Glenda, raising a hand. “What you don’t know, I shall teach you.” Glenda turned and slid down on her back on top of the bed. “But first, let us start by seeing what you do know.”
Quentin watched fascinated as Julia stood up and moved to the bed.
Glenda’s limbs parted and Julia’s dark head slip between them. He say her white shoulders heaving and realised she was sobbing. The effort of will she was having to make to submit to this final degradation was bringing her near snapping point. He saw Glenda grip the dark head of thick hair.
“Start by just using your lips, slave” she said. Eyes bright with desire and cruelty, she smiled up at Quentin.
She was obviously a very happy woman. Quentin strolled over and poured himself a drink. He had
watched Glenda play lesbian games with a friend - and found it most intriguing. But the fact that it was now Julia between her thighs added a big plus to the scene. He contemplated the curvaceousness of Julia’s bottom as she knelt on the bed, head down. Quite superb. Yes... yes... I shall definitely fuck her this time, he said to himself.
“Now start using your tongue,” said Glenda suddenly. Her face was preoccupied. “Get it well in...”
Julia’s head bobbed rhythmically up and down. There were little lapping sounds. Glenda raised her arms suddenly above her head, stretching luxuriously.
Again she smiled at Quentin. It was evident that her pleasure was increasing.
“Now concentrate it there,” she ordered suddenly. “You know where a woman is most sensitive.”
Ah, thought Quentin, that tongue will be working on the clitoris now.
“That’s it... good... that’s it...” sighed Glenda, eyes half closing. Julia seemed to Quentin to be doing a remarkably good job for a novice. Perhaps, though, Glenda was more excited than usual because this was both a first-timer and Julia and enforced lover.
“Now get your tongue in deep, girl,” said Glenda hoarsely.
“Deep... right in... girl... mmmmmmm... mmmmm...”
Quentin watched as Glenda’s haunches began to squirm this way and that on the coverlet. Gradually she brought up her knees higher and higher, clasping them and then pulling them wide.
“Right in... slave... r-right... i-in... aaahhh... yyes...” she gasped.
There was snorting sound and slurping sounds. No doubt at all, thought Quentin, that Julia is giving all she can.
“Aaaahhhh... AAAAHHHHH...” Glenda’s belly began to quake. She suddenly clasped her breasts. Her cry grew louder... higher. “AAAAHHH.. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH...”
The climax contorted her body, sending it writhing over the bed. She gripped Julia’s hair, again, keeping the girl’s head down, making sure that probing tongue worked and worked till the final spasm was over.
* * * * * *
“She isn’t bad... in fact, for a beginner, she’s good.”
It was but a few minutes later and Glenda was contemplating the figure of Julia which once more knelt beside the bed.
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Quentin.
“Of course, there’s room for improvement.”
“She’ll make it; never fear.”
Quentin watched as Glenda slithered herself off the side of the bed and walked to one of her cases which lay on a rack. She rummaged around for a few moments and then, to Quentin’s surprise, she took out a large pink rubber dildo. A number of straps were fastened to it and these she quickly secured around her flanks.
“I always like to show a new girl who is boss,” said Glenda with a wicked grin.
Quentin shrugged. If Glenda wanted to play games, that was her affair. But with plenty of hard cock around, it seemed rather unnecessary! However, he was impressed by the startled look on Julia’s face as Glenda strode across the room with the dildo swinging before her. No doubt at all that the girl did not like the look of what was coming to her!
“On to the bed... flat on your back... legs open wide,” order Glenda briskly.
Just as briskly, Julia obeyed the command. Quentin saw that she was trembling; her mouth beginning to crumble. No doubt she had imagined her ordeal was over for the moment.
But no...
Julia proffered herself blatantly, as she knew she must. Glenda smiled down with sadistic possessiveness. “You like being fucked?” she asked.
“Y-Yes... Mistress...” quavered Julia.
“Good,” said Glenda. “Because you’re going to be. By me.”
She positioned herself and, without any preliminaries at all. thrust the dildo fully into her victim. Julia screamed, her mouth gaping wide, her body wriggling like a caterpillar on a pin. It was, thought Quentin, the very epitome of ****. And how strange that it should be committed by a woman!
Having entered, Glenda clamped her hands under Julia’s buttocks and began to thrust vigorously in and out. Julia continued to utter short, gasping screams at each savage thrust... but, gradually, these weakened.
“Put your arms around me, girl... kiss my mouth,” Glenda ordered. Like Julia, she was panting.
Julia obeyed.
“Clasp your legs around me... you love me... remember...”
Julia obeyed.
Quentin just couldn’t help grinning as he looked at the two woman on the bed, with Glenda’s small bottom humping up and down and Julia writhing away underneath her.
You love me... remember. That was rich, he thought. If ever any woman had reason to hate, it was certainly Julia. Yet she was clinging to Glenda as if her life depended on it, pressing her mouth passionately to the lips above. And, soon, her haunches were beginning to work co-operatively with Glenda’s as the dildo continued to drive in and out.
“That.. that’s it.. girl... let yourself go...” panted Glenda, when she could break her mouth free for a moment.
“Hhhhhaaa... aaaaahhhh... hhhhhhhaaaaaaa...” Julia began to gasp.
“Come... come... come then...”
“Hhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa... hhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa...”
Julia threshed violently, thighs clamping and unclamping, as she spent herself in an uninhabited climax. Her arms remained clasped around Glenda throughout, her mouth never ceased to kiss.
The delight glowed on Glenda’s face. This girl was really something. Hers. She revelled on the feel of the voluptuous body palpitating beneath hers. How wonderful it was to know that Julia was her slave! That she could do whatever she liked with her, whenever she wanted. And that she could make Julia do whatever she wanted to her. Yes... no doubt, about it, to be the owner of a slave added an extra dimension to one’s pleasures.
Abruptly Glenda removed the dildo and rolled off her victim.
“Marisa,” called Glenda, “come and take this thing off me.”
The young girl, who had been ordered to stand in one corner until she was required, came running to do her mistress’s bidding. With a look of terror in her eyes, she removed the large mock-penis.
“Go and wash it... then put it back in my case.”
“Yes, Ma’am...”
Marisa scuttled off once more to the bathroom. The sights she had been witnessing made her realise the full extent of the horrors that existed on board the ‘Paradise’.
“Why don’t you fuck her now, Quentin,” said Glenda. “She’ll be nice and warm and juicy.”
Quentin regarded the figure on the bed. To be frank, he was sorely tempted. Yet, somehow, it did not seem quite the appropriate moment to take full possession. So he continued with his previous policy of ‘rejection’.
“Oh no,” he answered airily. “I can’t be bothered at the moment.” He stood up. “Like a drink, Glenda?”
Glenda looked at her husband admiringly. He had more to him than she had once imagined. She realised how difficult Julia must have been to resist at that moment. Also she was aware how wounding it must have been for Julia’s ego to be so casually refused.
“Yes, please, my dear,” she said. “Campari with ice and soda.”
“Coming up...” Ice tinkled merrily in a glass.
“Julia,” said Glenda. “Go and kneel on that stool at the end of the bed. You are not required for the moment.”
“Yes, Mistress...”
Obediently Julia rose from the bed upon which she had been obscenely ravaged and knelt as ordered. Once again she had managed to compose her features into an impassive mask of submissive acceptance. She realised she was, as it were, ‘on trial’. This maybe her last chance of getting off the dreaded ‘Paradise’. Not that her future existence could be exactly termed a bed of roses... but it couldn’t possible be worse than the one she had to endure at that moment.
She bit her lips and fought down the bitter gall in her breast as she watched Quentin and Glenda relax with their drinks on the couch... and discuss the pros. and cons.
It was beginning to seem, however, that there were more pros, than cons.
* * * * * *
Dinner that evening was its usual friendly affair, even if there were only three of them at the table. It was halfway through the meal that Madame Vesta made an announcement of considerable interest to Quentin.
“I had some rather unfortunate news today,” she said.
“Oh yes?”
“You remember Melissa?”
“Very well...”
“I am afraid her owner is no longer with us. I had news that he was killed last week in a car crash.”
“How dreadful!” Quentin considered the news. Where did that leave the shapely Melissa? “So I suppose Melissa stays here indefinitely,” he said.
“That could happen,” agreed Madame Vesta. “On the other hand, I could sell her.” She looked directly at Quentin, who experienced a sudden tingling in his veins.
“Ah.. you could, could you?” he said.
“Who is this Melissa?” interposed Glenda.
“Oh, just one of the slave-girls here,” answered Quentin. “One I happen to rather fancy.”
“Uh-hu. Is she worth buying?” asked Glenda.
“I should say so...”
Madame Vesta was beginning to get a satisfied look on her face.
“Well buy her then, if you want to!” said Glenda.
“That I may well do,” answered Quentin, contentedly rubbing his fat belly. “She’ll make the perfect companion for Julia in Craigness. After all, we don’t want our Julia to be lonely, do we?”
“No we don’t,” smiled Glenda. Already her mind was racing ahead. Two girls to service her were far better than one. And it would be the greatest fun to make them play games with each other” Life certainly was a bowl of cherries at that moment.
Quentin looked at Madame Vesta. “Price?” he asked.
The black-gowned woman shrugged. “Well.. she’s quite some beauty. And, at twenty-four, there’s a lot in her yet.
What’s more,” she smiled, “I know you fancy her...”
“I can take her or leave her.”
“Maybe. Still, Quentin, you are an old client now. A valued client. Shall we say ten thousand? Pounds, not dollars.”
“My God... that’s too steep!” All Quentin’s natural business instincts were aroused. It didn’t matter a damn; he could just as easily have afforded twenty thousand as ten. Or much more. It was the principle of the thing.
After ten minutes hard, but agreeable bargaining, Melissa was sold to Quentin for a price of eight thousand five hundred pounds.
It was, he thought, as they took coffee and brandy in the ante-room, really quite some bargain. Possibly it suited Madame Vesta’s book well to have a non-owned slave off the ‘Paradise’... which, in any event, never seemed to be short of new arrivals.
“Has Svenson’s wife arrived?” he asked, apropos.
“Yes,” answered Madame Vesta. “Quite a woman.”
“I might take a look at her tomorrow.”
“As you please, my dear Quentin.” Madame Vesta glanced at her watch. “Ah well, I think I’ll turn in. It’s been quite a long day.”
Quentin stood politely as their hostess departed.
“Enjoying it here?” he asked Glenda.
“Very much,” came the answer. There was genuine warmth in Glenda’s answer. “It’s all rather like a dream though.”
“I suppose it is,” nodded Quentin. “A dream for us. A nightmare for the slave girls.”
“I’d like to look at his Melissa, by the way.”
“Sure thing. I’ll have her sent up to the cabin when we get back. But this time, my dear, it will be my turn. I’ll accompany the news of her changed ownership with a good fucking!”
Glenda laughed. “Well, why not,” she said. “I should think you must be ready for one.”
“I am,” grinned Quentin, thinking how wonderful it was to have such an understanding and co-operative wife. He finished his brandy. “Like to go then?”
“Yes,” nodded Glenda. She rose, very soignee in a sleek red evening gown. Already her mind was looking ahead to Julia. “We can both enjoy our new slave together,” she said, smiling happily.
Quentin put his arm around her. “A nice idea,” he said.
“A very nice idea indeed.”
The couple made their way slowly along the white-scrubbed deck and down the companionway that led to their cabin.
It was Glenda who spoke. At her feet knelt Julia in the required slave posture, with hands clasped at the back of the neck, back straight, thighs splayed.
“I am glad you approve,” said Quentin, smiling down possessively. Julia looked no different, he thought, except that possibly her features were more set in a mask-like mould of control. Glenda raised a bare foot and jabbed at one of Julia’s breasts with a toe. “Good boobs,” she said.
“Yes,” nodded Quentin, “and an excellent backside too.”
“I haven’t studied that yet,” said Glenda.
“Show your Mistress, slave,” ordered Quentin sharply. It was a delight to be able to show Julia off in this way to another woman.
Instantly Julia twisted around and thrust her hindquarters high in the air.
“Mmmm...” said Glenda. “I see what you mean...”
On her brittle face gleamed cruel pleasure. It was quite wonderful to see a woman being made to do such things. But still she found it incredible that she could be made to do them. Could she herself, she wondered, be made to abuse herself so? It certainly did not seem possible. Yet, from all she had heard of the Julia of former days, she was as proud, arrogant and as stubborn as they make them. Yes.. it was quite remarkable.
“Alright, kneel up again, Julia,” said Quentin.
Julia resumed her former posture, her face still impassive. She had gained a considerable amount more control since I was last here, thought Quentin. Now she is more like Melissa. Not only tougher physically, but tougher mentally. But, naturally, these things took time. By comparison, Marisa was still very much a novice.
“I believe you once considered Julia a bit of a tigress,” drawled Glenda, walking slowly round the kneeling figure.
“True,” nodded Quentin. “And it was true. Still as Miss Judith told me on the first day I came here, they are adept at taming tigresses on the ‘Paradise’.”
“So I see...” Deliberately Glenda was trying to goad Julia into some action. By both contemptuous words and looks. It did not seem possible to her that any woman could just kneel there and take it all without reacting in some way. Had she not one atom of pride left? But then, of course, Glenda was not cognisant of the extent and depth of Madame Vesta’s training methods. It was understandable that she should be incredulous.
“Did you get a birching on the day I last left, Julia?” enquired Quentin. He turned to Glenda. “I’m afraid she made rather an exhibition of herself on the deck... kept clawing at me and hollering for me to take her with me. Before you’d even seen her, mark you, my dear. I agreed that she be punished.” He turned back to Julia and saw the tic of the nerve in her cheek.
“No, Master,” she answered softly.
“Not birched?” queried Quentin, raising his eyebrows.
“No, Master... Madame Vesta had me put on the Ring...”
“Ahhhh!”
“...and flogged me until I was insensible, Master.”
“What’s the Ring?” asked Glenda.
Briefly, Quentin explained the working of this pinioning device.. and also the instrument which was used. Glenda nodded, eyes sharp.
“And then you scrubbed decks for a week?”
“Yes, Master...”
“And went on the treadmill?”
“Yes, Master...”
Quentin smiled as if he had done Julia a good turn. “Ah well,” he said casually, “it all helps to keep you fit and your figure in trim.”
For the first time, Julia’s set features quivered uncontrollably and she bit her lower lip. It was bitterly cruel to hear such agonies so lightly dismissed.
The new husband turned to the new wife. “Well,” he asked, “is it O.K. by you if we share her as a personal slave? Take her back with us?”
There was a sudden light in Julia’s eyes...
“I think so,” answered Glenda. “But I am not yet quite sure.”
“You mean, perhaps, you’d like Julia to service you first, before you make up your mind?”
“That’s right,” answered Glenda.
Both knew, of course, that Julia was not a lesbian. Also, as had been reported by Miss Judith - who had recently given her some training in the practices - she had a very natural revulsion for them. Something, which has already been said, pleased Glenda, who had always wanted an unwilling girl.
She unbuttoned her white dressing gown and let it slip to the floor. Her body was hard, smooth and white. Small breasts, large nipples, flat bottom, slim limbs. A wellpreserved body.
“This is the body you will have to serve, Julia,” said Glenda.
“Y-Yes, Mistress,” whispered Julia, her eyes flickering, her nervous tic returning.
Now, thought Quentin, the strain is really on.
“Serve.. and please, Julia...”
“Yes... Mistress...”
“You have some training, I believe?”
“Only... only a l-little Mistress... Miss J-Judith... she...”
“Alright,” said Glenda, raising a hand. “What you don’t know, I shall teach you.” Glenda turned and slid down on her back on top of the bed. “But first, let us start by seeing what you do know.”
Quentin watched fascinated as Julia stood up and moved to the bed.
Glenda’s limbs parted and Julia’s dark head slip between them. He say her white shoulders heaving and realised she was sobbing. The effort of will she was having to make to submit to this final degradation was bringing her near snapping point. He saw Glenda grip the dark head of thick hair.
“Start by just using your lips, slave” she said. Eyes bright with desire and cruelty, she smiled up at Quentin.
She was obviously a very happy woman. Quentin strolled over and poured himself a drink. He had
watched Glenda play lesbian games with a friend - and found it most intriguing. But the fact that it was now Julia between her thighs added a big plus to the scene. He contemplated the curvaceousness of Julia’s bottom as she knelt on the bed, head down. Quite superb. Yes... yes... I shall definitely fuck her this time, he said to himself.
“Now start using your tongue,” said Glenda suddenly. Her face was preoccupied. “Get it well in...”
Julia’s head bobbed rhythmically up and down. There were little lapping sounds. Glenda raised her arms suddenly above her head, stretching luxuriously.
Again she smiled at Quentin. It was evident that her pleasure was increasing.
“Now concentrate it there,” she ordered suddenly. “You know where a woman is most sensitive.”
Ah, thought Quentin, that tongue will be working on the clitoris now.
“That’s it... good... that’s it...” sighed Glenda, eyes half closing. Julia seemed to Quentin to be doing a remarkably good job for a novice. Perhaps, though, Glenda was more excited than usual because this was both a first-timer and Julia and enforced lover.
“Now get your tongue in deep, girl,” said Glenda hoarsely.
“Deep... right in... girl... mmmmmmm... mmmmm...”
Quentin watched as Glenda’s haunches began to squirm this way and that on the coverlet. Gradually she brought up her knees higher and higher, clasping them and then pulling them wide.
“Right in... slave... r-right... i-in... aaahhh... yyes...” she gasped.
There was snorting sound and slurping sounds. No doubt at all, thought Quentin, that Julia is giving all she can.
“Aaaahhhh... AAAAHHHHH...” Glenda’s belly began to quake. She suddenly clasped her breasts. Her cry grew louder... higher. “AAAAHHH.. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH...”
The climax contorted her body, sending it writhing over the bed. She gripped Julia’s hair, again, keeping the girl’s head down, making sure that probing tongue worked and worked till the final spasm was over.
* * * * * *
“She isn’t bad... in fact, for a beginner, she’s good.”
It was but a few minutes later and Glenda was contemplating the figure of Julia which once more knelt beside the bed.
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Quentin.
“Of course, there’s room for improvement.”
“She’ll make it; never fear.”
Quentin watched as Glenda slithered herself off the side of the bed and walked to one of her cases which lay on a rack. She rummaged around for a few moments and then, to Quentin’s surprise, she took out a large pink rubber dildo. A number of straps were fastened to it and these she quickly secured around her flanks.
“I always like to show a new girl who is boss,” said Glenda with a wicked grin.
Quentin shrugged. If Glenda wanted to play games, that was her affair. But with plenty of hard cock around, it seemed rather unnecessary! However, he was impressed by the startled look on Julia’s face as Glenda strode across the room with the dildo swinging before her. No doubt at all that the girl did not like the look of what was coming to her!
“On to the bed... flat on your back... legs open wide,” order Glenda briskly.
Just as briskly, Julia obeyed the command. Quentin saw that she was trembling; her mouth beginning to crumble. No doubt she had imagined her ordeal was over for the moment.
But no...
Julia proffered herself blatantly, as she knew she must. Glenda smiled down with sadistic possessiveness. “You like being fucked?” she asked.
“Y-Yes... Mistress...” quavered Julia.
“Good,” said Glenda. “Because you’re going to be. By me.”
She positioned herself and, without any preliminaries at all. thrust the dildo fully into her victim. Julia screamed, her mouth gaping wide, her body wriggling like a caterpillar on a pin. It was, thought Quentin, the very epitome of ****. And how strange that it should be committed by a woman!
Having entered, Glenda clamped her hands under Julia’s buttocks and began to thrust vigorously in and out. Julia continued to utter short, gasping screams at each savage thrust... but, gradually, these weakened.
“Put your arms around me, girl... kiss my mouth,” Glenda ordered. Like Julia, she was panting.
Julia obeyed.
“Clasp your legs around me... you love me... remember...”
Julia obeyed.
Quentin just couldn’t help grinning as he looked at the two woman on the bed, with Glenda’s small bottom humping up and down and Julia writhing away underneath her.
You love me... remember. That was rich, he thought. If ever any woman had reason to hate, it was certainly Julia. Yet she was clinging to Glenda as if her life depended on it, pressing her mouth passionately to the lips above. And, soon, her haunches were beginning to work co-operatively with Glenda’s as the dildo continued to drive in and out.
“That.. that’s it.. girl... let yourself go...” panted Glenda, when she could break her mouth free for a moment.
“Hhhhhaaa... aaaaahhhh... hhhhhhhaaaaaaa...” Julia began to gasp.
“Come... come... come then...”
“Hhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa... hhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa...”
Julia threshed violently, thighs clamping and unclamping, as she spent herself in an uninhabited climax. Her arms remained clasped around Glenda throughout, her mouth never ceased to kiss.
The delight glowed on Glenda’s face. This girl was really something. Hers. She revelled on the feel of the voluptuous body palpitating beneath hers. How wonderful it was to know that Julia was her slave! That she could do whatever she liked with her, whenever she wanted. And that she could make Julia do whatever she wanted to her. Yes... no doubt, about it, to be the owner of a slave added an extra dimension to one’s pleasures.
Abruptly Glenda removed the dildo and rolled off her victim.
“Marisa,” called Glenda, “come and take this thing off me.”
The young girl, who had been ordered to stand in one corner until she was required, came running to do her mistress’s bidding. With a look of terror in her eyes, she removed the large mock-penis.
“Go and wash it... then put it back in my case.”
“Yes, Ma’am...”
Marisa scuttled off once more to the bathroom. The sights she had been witnessing made her realise the full extent of the horrors that existed on board the ‘Paradise’.
“Why don’t you fuck her now, Quentin,” said Glenda. “She’ll be nice and warm and juicy.”
Quentin regarded the figure on the bed. To be frank, he was sorely tempted. Yet, somehow, it did not seem quite the appropriate moment to take full possession. So he continued with his previous policy of ‘rejection’.
“Oh no,” he answered airily. “I can’t be bothered at the moment.” He stood up. “Like a drink, Glenda?”
Glenda looked at her husband admiringly. He had more to him than she had once imagined. She realised how difficult Julia must have been to resist at that moment. Also she was aware how wounding it must have been for Julia’s ego to be so casually refused.
“Yes, please, my dear,” she said. “Campari with ice and soda.”
“Coming up...” Ice tinkled merrily in a glass.
“Julia,” said Glenda. “Go and kneel on that stool at the end of the bed. You are not required for the moment.”
“Yes, Mistress...”
Obediently Julia rose from the bed upon which she had been obscenely ravaged and knelt as ordered. Once again she had managed to compose her features into an impassive mask of submissive acceptance. She realised she was, as it were, ‘on trial’. This maybe her last chance of getting off the dreaded ‘Paradise’. Not that her future existence could be exactly termed a bed of roses... but it couldn’t possible be worse than the one she had to endure at that moment.
She bit her lips and fought down the bitter gall in her breast as she watched Quentin and Glenda relax with their drinks on the couch... and discuss the pros. and cons.
It was beginning to seem, however, that there were more pros, than cons.
* * * * * *
Dinner that evening was its usual friendly affair, even if there were only three of them at the table. It was halfway through the meal that Madame Vesta made an announcement of considerable interest to Quentin.
“I had some rather unfortunate news today,” she said.
“Oh yes?”
“You remember Melissa?”
“Very well...”
“I am afraid her owner is no longer with us. I had news that he was killed last week in a car crash.”
“How dreadful!” Quentin considered the news. Where did that leave the shapely Melissa? “So I suppose Melissa stays here indefinitely,” he said.
“That could happen,” agreed Madame Vesta. “On the other hand, I could sell her.” She looked directly at Quentin, who experienced a sudden tingling in his veins.
“Ah.. you could, could you?” he said.
“Who is this Melissa?” interposed Glenda.
“Oh, just one of the slave-girls here,” answered Quentin. “One I happen to rather fancy.”
“Uh-hu. Is she worth buying?” asked Glenda.
“I should say so...”
Madame Vesta was beginning to get a satisfied look on her face.
“Well buy her then, if you want to!” said Glenda.
“That I may well do,” answered Quentin, contentedly rubbing his fat belly. “She’ll make the perfect companion for Julia in Craigness. After all, we don’t want our Julia to be lonely, do we?”
“No we don’t,” smiled Glenda. Already her mind was racing ahead. Two girls to service her were far better than one. And it would be the greatest fun to make them play games with each other” Life certainly was a bowl of cherries at that moment.
Quentin looked at Madame Vesta. “Price?” he asked.
The black-gowned woman shrugged. “Well.. she’s quite some beauty. And, at twenty-four, there’s a lot in her yet.
What’s more,” she smiled, “I know you fancy her...”
“I can take her or leave her.”
“Maybe. Still, Quentin, you are an old client now. A valued client. Shall we say ten thousand? Pounds, not dollars.”
“My God... that’s too steep!” All Quentin’s natural business instincts were aroused. It didn’t matter a damn; he could just as easily have afforded twenty thousand as ten. Or much more. It was the principle of the thing.
After ten minutes hard, but agreeable bargaining, Melissa was sold to Quentin for a price of eight thousand five hundred pounds.
It was, he thought, as they took coffee and brandy in the ante-room, really quite some bargain. Possibly it suited Madame Vesta’s book well to have a non-owned slave off the ‘Paradise’... which, in any event, never seemed to be short of new arrivals.
“Has Svenson’s wife arrived?” he asked, apropos.
“Yes,” answered Madame Vesta. “Quite a woman.”
“I might take a look at her tomorrow.”
“As you please, my dear Quentin.” Madame Vesta glanced at her watch. “Ah well, I think I’ll turn in. It’s been quite a long day.”
Quentin stood politely as their hostess departed.
“Enjoying it here?” he asked Glenda.
“Very much,” came the answer. There was genuine warmth in Glenda’s answer. “It’s all rather like a dream though.”
“I suppose it is,” nodded Quentin. “A dream for us. A nightmare for the slave girls.”
“I’d like to look at his Melissa, by the way.”
“Sure thing. I’ll have her sent up to the cabin when we get back. But this time, my dear, it will be my turn. I’ll accompany the news of her changed ownership with a good fucking!”
Glenda laughed. “Well, why not,” she said. “I should think you must be ready for one.”
“I am,” grinned Quentin, thinking how wonderful it was to have such an understanding and co-operative wife. He finished his brandy. “Like to go then?”
“Yes,” nodded Glenda. She rose, very soignee in a sleek red evening gown. Already her mind was looking ahead to Julia. “We can both enjoy our new slave together,” she said, smiling happily.
Quentin put his arm around her. “A nice idea,” he said.
“A very nice idea indeed.”
The couple made their way slowly along the white-scrubbed deck and down the companionway that led to their cabin.
Hester
- 03.07.2020
- 7
- 0
