The Slave - Day 5

Letting go of Sheila’s hands, leaving her standing silent and alone, Rosie and Chrissie moved smartly to stand either side of Sarah. They immediately began to unbutton the sides of the white cotton shift she was wearing. There were buttons along the shoulders as well. When they had undone them, the shift fell away from her body and landed in a puddle of white cloth at her feet. Sarah was naked. She stood in front of Linda unashamed, her plump body pale in the flickering candle light, her breasts large, her nipples erect, the area between her legs cleanly shaven like the rest of her body, her outer lips clearly defined.

Linda moved forward and took Sarah in her arms. She looked at her once more and then she began the Fivefold Kiss, something She and Bill had adapted from a Black Magic Ritual, but this kiss had no sinister intent, unless arousing Sarah could be deemed sinister.

The Fivefold Kiss involved kissing every open orifice of the body, but Linda had changed it to suit her own requirements. She began at Sarah’s ears, kissing each one lightly, then she kissed each eyelid, and then, moving her head slightly, she kissed Sarah long, hard and full on the lips, holding her head in her hands as she did so. 

They kissed, unbroken, for a long time. They kissed until Sarah began to moan softly and Linda broke away leaving her breathless and panting. She dropped to her knees and, before Sarah could recover, began to kiss the soft skin around her naval, running her tongue around it several times. Sarah, her hands still tied behind her but supported by Chrissie and Rosie, tried to watch everything Linda was doing, but the sensations were overwhelming her. Her tied hands made her feel helpless, the gentle touch of the girls holding her made her feel secure and comfortable and the feel of Linda’s tongue, warm and wet against the soft skin of her tummy, made her knees go weak

Sarah gave in; she made a little sighing noise, closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly. As soon as she did that, Linda stopped and, without warning, dipped her head between Sarah’s slightly parted legs. She gave her no time to recover.

She began to flutter her tongue up and down Sarah’s shaven lips, and then she put it out further and began to lick at them as if there was something there that she was trying to remove. Sarah opened her eyes and looked down as she felt Linda’s tongue soothing her.  Linda slipped her right index finger inside Sarah’s smooth pink, prominent, labia and began to gently stroke the delicate little bud that she found inside. Feather light touches, almost taps, but enough to make Sarah close her eyes and gasp in surprise.  Then, when she was satisfied with the responses she was getting, she gently opened Sarah’s lips with her fingers and delved her warm wet tongue into Sarah’s soft moist opening. She pushed it inside to a chorus of quiet moans from Sarah then she moved her head and aimed her tongue at Sarah’s sensitive inner bud.

Bill suddenly felt warm all over. He wondered whether the air conditioning had corrected itself or if something else was causing his sudden flush.

Linda trembled her tongue against Sarah’s clitoris for nearly five minutes, slowing down if she thought she was getting too excited and then speeding up again when she was sure she would not climax.

 Sarah loved foreplay. It was something her husband had never done in their twelve years of marriage, and something that she had found she could take for long periods of time, once she realised that sex with another woman entailed much much more than simple penetration.  But Linda was aware that Sarah would be nervous and excited now and that the whole atmosphere could tip her over the edge at any time. So all the while that she was kissing and licking and nuzzling between Sarah’s legs she was also looking up at her, watching her reactions, waiting for her head to drop backwards, or for her hips to buck, or for her to start muttering little obscenities under her breath as she did at other times when she was close to orgasm. 

Rosie and Chrissie still held her and Sally still stood behind her watchfully, but Linda controlled her totally. Every now and then she would slide two fingers gently inside her, feeling her wetness, urging her onward, still tonguing her clitoris, and then she would withdraw, just as gently. The little moans and gasps and cries from Sarah left Linda in no doubt that she wanted more. But Linda’s intention was NOT to bring Sarah to climax; it was to keep her in a state of continual wanting.

Just as abruptly as she had begun, Linda withdrew her tongue and her fingers and Sarah cried out a big sobbing “No!” and her body was wracked with shudders, Bill thought for a second that she might begin to convulse and he could feel Sheila’s eyes on him again, but Sarah calmed down, she straightened her head and opened her eyes to see Linda standing in front of her, her face impassive, her lips glistening with Sarah’s own secretions.

Sarah was breathing heavily, she had a hurt look on her face, and Linda knew that it was time to move on to the next stage. She looked from Sarah to Rosie, from Rosie to Chrissie and from Chrissie to Sally; finally she looked back into Sarah’s eyes.

“She must be cleansed.” She said softly. 

Sheila, standing alone near the wall, was staring at Bill again with the same question in her eyes, but again he ignored it and watched as Rosie and Chrissie walked away from Sarah towards the opposite wall where they retrieved a piece of equipment and returned slowly, each holding one of the legs, to the others. They put it carefully in place behind Sarah, looked at Linda, bowed their heads slightly and moved a pace or so away from it, their hands now clasped together behind their backs.

Sally moved forward. She put her hands on the shoulders of the naked and still trembling Sarah and helped her to turn and face the gilded frame that now stood in front of her. It was a free standing squared off and inverted U that had chains and leather cuffs at the four corners. Sally was whispering to something to Sarah who was still trying to control her breathing. At a nod from Linda, Sally turned her round again and helped her to step out of the cotton shift, which had, until then, remained pooled around her ankles. Rosie and Chrissie moved forward and took hold of Sarah’s wrists; they pulled them gently upward and fastened them quickly into the leather cuffs. Without pausing they dropped to their knees and fastened the lower cuffs to Sarah’s bare ankles.

Her feet were on the floor, her arms were high above her, Sarah was, in a few seconds chained spread-eagled, standing up and waiting for Linda’s next move. Chrissie and Rosie were gone, they had taken up positions next to Sheila and they gripped her hands again, tightly, like two children holding on to their mother on a shopping trip, staring at her wide eyed. Sheila just stared back at them with a certain amount of distaste.

When she looked at Bill, as he knew she would, her expression was unmistakeable, it said,

“Can’t you tell these two to FUCK OFF and leave me alone,” He glanced briefly at the floor to hide the smile on his face and then looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. Resigned, Sheila faced front once again.

Sarah stood helpless as Linda walked around the frame regally, inspecting her from every angle, occasionally putting out a hand to touch her bare skin as if she had never seen her before. She circled her five or six times, like a lion circling its prey. Building her anticipation ever higher and then finally she stopped behind her. She stood impassive while the strung out Sarah forced her head backwards to see what she was going to do.

Linda did nothing. She remained motionless, a tall, golden figure in a tiny silver bikini, her plump breasts barely covered, her nipples erect like Sarah’s, possibly from the chill in the room, or possibly not, her hands by her sides in their silver gloves, her silver booted feet slightly apart, her flowing silver cape moving slightly in the breeze of the air conditioning unit which was directly above them, watching Sarah’s every move. 

Sarah continued to stare backwards and upwards at her, her breathing quickening again, her eyes pleading silently for Linda to do something.

 When she did it took Sarah completely by surprise.

Slowly and deliberately Linda peeled off her left glove. Holding it in her right hand she began to slap it against Sarah’s naked back and shoulders. Sarah hung in her chains; still watching her as she felt the light blows against her skin. She didn’t move, she didn’t cry out, but she did make a barely audible little gasp as each unexpected slap landed. Linda stopped and laid the glove carefully over Sarah’s right shoulder.

She did the same with her right glove, peeling it off slowly as Sarah watched in anticipation and began to slap her bottom with it. The blows were not hard but Sarah reacted as if they were. She gasped, and she began to writhe slowly against her restraints.  She tried to push her backside out further because she wanted more.

Linda stopped and placed the glove over Sarah’s left shoulder. Then she moved forward trapping Sarah in her arms and held her tightly against her. He thought he heard her whisper something, it sounded like “Trust me!” She put her right hand firmly over Sarah’s mouth and held it there. The two women stared into each other’s eyes. Sarah began to struggle as she felt her air supply being cut off. Her struggles became more violent but Linda’s hold on her only tightened.

Bill saw movement in the corner of one eye. Sheila was trying to move forward, she was trying to get to the struggling Sarah, she was trying to stop Linda suffocating her, but Rosie and Chrissie would not let go of her hands and she too was now struggling to get away from the other two handmaidens.

As Sarah continued to gasp and writhe against Linda, Sally moved quickly forward taking something from a hidden pocket in her shift. Rosie and Chrissie were stronger than they looked and each had twisted one of Sheila’s arms behind her back. Sally moved behind her and without preamble buckled two gold leather cuffs linked by a very short gold chain onto Sheila’s wrists.

 Sarah’s eyes were beginning to close; she wasn’t struggling as much as before, while Sheila was struggling even harder. She was trying to kick at whoever was nearest. As Sally knelt down the heel of Sheila’s sandal caught her on the cheek. Sally’s eyes flashed pain and annoyance. She pulled both of Sheila’s sandals off roughly, throwing them to one side, and then she buckled a another pair of cuffs, with a chain no more than six inches in length between them, around Sheila’s’ ankles

Sheila tried to shout through her gag but no sensible sound came out. Sally stood up and grabbed her, pulling her close to her in much the same way that Linda had done to Sarah. She too had her hand over Sheila’s mouth, but she was only holding it there lightly. She began whispering quickly into Sheila’s ear whilst Rosie and Chrissie looked on with worried expressions on their faces.

Sarah had stopped struggling and her eyes were fully closed, but Bill noticed that there were gaps between Linda’s fingers. Linda was talking softly to her. Linda hated breath play, she had done it a few times with clients but it was too dangerous for her liking. One of Sarah’s “wishes” was to have Linda gag her with just her hand whilst she was helpless. Sarah had been more overcome by the doing rather than the actual deed, she had never been in any real danger, she only thought that she was.

Bill knew that a lot now depended on how Sheila reacted. Her hands cuffed behind her, barefoot, her ankles chained together; she could only listen as Sally continued to talk to her. 

 Linda took her hand away from Sarah’s mouth. Sarah screamed in relief and sobbed air into her lungs. Linda continued to hold her tightly and began to stroke her hair. Already emotional, Sarah began to cry. Linda let go of her and walked round to the front of the frame. She took Sarah in her arms once again and hugged her close, kissing her gently on the cheek until her crying stopped. All the while Linda held her like a baby, stroking her back, calming her down. Talking softly to her.

When Sarah was calm, Linda looked over to Sally. Then she looked at the angry eyed Sheila. Staring at her sardonically and almost as if to herself, she said.

“So the Old One causes trouble!” Sheila stared at her malevolently. She didn’t like references to her age. She was forty and wouldn’t admit to it.  She was about five feet eight and slimly built and she was one of those people who could seemingly eat anything she liked without ever putting on an extra pound. People who didn’t know her thought she was in her very early thirties.

Linda maintained that she herself could put on two pounds by just looking at a piece of chocolate cake, she also maintained, jokingly, that she hated Sheila for her ability to eat anything at all without suffering on the scales later.

 Sheila continued to stare and Rosie and Chrissie exchanged amused glances. They were both about twelve years younger than Sheila and, when they weren’t gagged, which didn’t seem to be very often, they would make jokes, knowing that it was a sore point, about her being old enough to be their mother. Sheila was seldom amused.

 Satisfied that Sarah was all right, Linda let go of her and backed away. She turned her head and looked from Sheila to Sally and then from Sally back to Sheila. Then she clapped her hands and said,

“Bring her! Bring her here! Bring her to me!”

Linda was busking this, it wasn’t in the script that he had so painstakingly written and that Linda, who had proved to be a talented, but untrained artist, had story boarded. Despite the chill there was sweat on Bill’s forehead. If anything was going to go wrong, it was going to go wrong now. Everything hinged on Sheila’s reactions. If she gave the safe sound he would take her quickly out of the room and the scene would continue, but he knew that Sheila was too stubborn to give in that easily.

Sally propelled her awkwardly forward on her bare feet and cuffed ankles, until she stood toe to toe with Linda. Sally held her cuffed wrists and Linda looked down on her. 

“So Old One…” Sheila’s eyes bulged, Linda often told her she was old even though she herself was only three years younger, they were playing their usual game again, in an unusual setting, or at least Linda was. The two habitual antagonists looked each other squarely in the eyes.
 

 “So Old One, you would resist!” She said quietly. Sheila stared at her and did nothing, but then her eyes moved until they were locked onto Bill’s. The question was there again, the same unspoken question as before.

 It was a simple question, consisting of just four words that she normally asked late in the evening, when they were alone and running over the events of the day, and she normally accompanied it with a suspicious stare.

 A simple question.

 “Who writes this shit?” 

A question that he never answered. 
.

 It had been totally unexpected. One Saturday morning when He, Linda and Sally had overdosed on coffee and Linda’s home made doughnuts and Linda was talking her way through the final scene, telling them what she had planned and what she intended to say to Sarah, he had sat quietly, not realising that all the time he was shaking his head. Finally and with a trace of annoyance, Linda had stood up, put her hands on her hips and said simply,

“Well?”

And he had turned his attention from Linda and Sarah’s new Golden retriever puppy, Sam, who was chewing the laces of his shoes, to Linda and told her that not only was there not enough in it, it just didn’t sound right, and Sally, who in the absence of Sheila, had taken upon herself the task of needling him constantly had said,

“Go on then, genius, tell us how it should sound!” 

He had stood up and walked slowly over to Linda and put his hands on her cheeks. Holding her face just a few inches from his, he had looked into her eyes and said softly,

“Hello Little One!
Are you prepared to give up your free will and place it in my hands? 
Are you prepared to live your new life through me and do as I bid?
Do you, can you, trust me sufficiently for that Little One?
For the present my power is greater than yours, but when we are united you will be stronger.
WE will be stronger!
Stronger and wiser. 
We will be as one. 
You MUST trust me Little One, for without trust we are nothing.
Trust me, Little One, and my power will be yours and your power will be mine.
Trust me, Little One, put your trust and your power and your very life in my hands.
Trust me!”

His voice had tapered off and he had stolen a quick glance, first at Sally, who he thought had muttered something about Star Trek, then at Linda. To his intense relief neither of them appeared to be laughing at him.

 And then he had kissed Linda gently on the lips. Linda had looked at him with soft eyes and, to his surprise, rather than accepting the kiss passively, she had kissed back and put her arms around him and pulled him close and he had found himself putting his arms around her and they had stood by the breakfast bar locked together until Sally in her Welshest accent had said,

“If you two are going to fuck can you go next door please?”

 Reluctantly, it seemed, they had pulled away from each other, both flushed, he from embarrassment and she from something else. They had sat back down and he had sketched out the scene in his own words talking to, but trying not look at Linda, as if she was Sarah and at the end neither Linda nor Sally had said anything. After a while Linda had pushed the clipboard, on which she kept her storyboards and her notes, across the breakfast bar and said,

“You’ve got six weeks. I’ve got a place sorted for the third week in July.” 

 He had sat on the stool with lots of different emotions running through him, elation, mingled with concern, worry and some guilt. It wasn’t the first time that Linda had expressed feelings for him and he had always done his best to deny his own, because he loved Sheila and would never do anything to hurt her, but now he couldn’t deny anything. He was happy that Linda had given him the job of writing the script, but he was also worried that he might not be able to live up to her expectations, in more ways than one, and the irony of talking about trust and then kissing her in the way he just had, when Sheila wasn’t around, wasn’t lost on him.  He came to his senses and looked around him, hoping that his face didn’t mirror his thoughts. 

Sally had a broad smile on her face,

“I wouldn’t get up for a minute,” She said, “Little Sam’s just been sick on your shoe.” And, when they all laughed and he had picked Sam up and told him he was naughty and Sam had looked at him and yawned and then promptly closed his eyes and feel asleep on his lap, it seemed to take away the tension that he had felt building up, not only inside him, but in the room as well.

  When he got home that afternoon he had sat down at the computer and began to rewrite the scripts from Day One. He had already decided that, for the greatest effect, Linda should speak in the sort of faux mediaeval language used in science fiction series, historical dramas and “erotic” literature like The Story Of “O”, which Sheila, in honour of Sarah’s forthcoming slavery had just re read. She referred to it as porn speak. 

So, whenever Sheila wasn’t around, he rescripted the whole of Sarah’s slavery into stilted, old world, but somehow more fitting and more dramatic, porn speak. Elaborating on some of Linda ideas and adding some of his own. He managed to incorporate all of the remaining things on Sarah’s wish list into it, knowing, that if ever Sheila found out that he was responsible, given her earlier objections, she would, at best, probably never speak to him again.

Sheila and Linda were still staring at each other.

There was no sign of fear on Sheila’s face, if anything she looked slightly impatient. Her head was thrust forward, daring Linda to do something. Linda was not going to disappoint her.

In one swift movement she put out her right hand, grasped the front of Sheila’s tunic and ripped it away from her so violently that the buttons flew off in all directions. One hit the wall a few inches from where Bill was standing and rattled harmlessly to the floor. He cringed inwardly, thinking of the cost of the hire costume, and then, a little guilty for his lack of concern for Sheila he turned his attention back to the two women.

Linda was holding the ripped shift in her hand; Sheila was standing bound in front of her wearing just a gold thong. She showed no emotion at all, she just continued to stare at Linda, daring her again. Daring her to do more. He wasn’t sure but he thought he could see a small dark patch on the front of Linda’s silver bikini bottoms. When he looked at Sheila he was certain that there was a corresponding dark patch on her thong.

Linda broke the silence that enveloped the two of them, turning to Sally she ordered,

“They will be cleansed together. Bring me the scourge!” 

Underneath the canvas topped table were cupboards with gold friezes on the doors. Opening one, Sally took out several items and returned to Linda, who inspected them. She looked to the side where Rosie and Chrissie were standing and said,

“Come forth handmaidens and do my bidding!”

Linda was really getting into her part now. Bill hoped sincerely that she wouldn’t get to far into it as the two hand maidens took hold of Sheila and, pressing her firmly to the unresisting Sarah, began to bind to bind them together, wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle, with the gold cords that Sally had retrieved from the cupboard, whilst Linda stood watching, stroking the long thick, horse hair whip with the polished mahogany handle that Sally had passed to her.
 
 

---INTERMISSION---
 
 
 

The story concludes in Part 2.
 

© Wallace 2002.All rights reserved.  The writer asserts the right to be recognised as the author of this piece. This is a work of fiction and bears no resemblance to any persons living or dead or to any events or places either real or imaginary.

26.08.02