Melinda stood directly in front of her. Marion leant forward slightly, wrapping her hands around the backs of Melinda's thighs and stroking them. 'So many things to do. So many things to teach you. Do you want to learn?'
I want what the Master wants, Melinda thought. 'Yes, mistress.' But her body had needs too. Her excitement was intense.
Marion's hands pulled Melinda forward until her pubis was pressed against Marion's face. Immediately, Melinda felt her hot tongue licking the flesh she now shaved meticulously every morning. It was as though the shaving had made it more sensitive. Then the tongue dipped lower, finding the groove that led down between her thighs. The tongue curled round her clitoris, already hard and swollen, and stroked it lightly. Melinda felt her body shudder.
'Not yet,' Marion said, raising her head, a teasing smile on her lips.
Melinda tried to ignore the feelings her clitoris pumped into her nerves. It was difficult.
Marion lay back in the middle of the bed. She knew perfectly well what Melinda was going through. 'Kneel, here next to me. Take my panties off,' Marion ordered, trying to keep her voice flat and level and not being altogether successful.
Melinda climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside Marion's hips. She leant over Marion's body and took the waistband of the panties in her hands, pulling them down. Marion arched her buttocks off the bed so she could pull them clear. As soon as they were off, Marion opened her legs. She opened them wide, stretching them out across the bed. Melinda looked into her sex. She had never seen a woman's sex like this, spread out in front of her, displayed for her benefit. The pubic hair was thick. It covered her labia as well as the triangle of her pubis. It would have covered her thighs too, but it had been neatly trimmed so as not to extend beyond the bikini line. On her sex, the hair was plastered down. It was as wet as Marion's labia, as the hole of her cunt that Melinda could see so clearly, an almost perfect circle, opened and inviting.
'Get your head down there,' Marion said, her voice now husky with passion. She could see what Melinda was looking at. 'Lick me out...'
Melinda did not hesitate. She plunged her mouth down onto Marion's sex immediately, using her tongue to probe the nether lips, anxious to please. She found the little bud of Marion's clitoris and heard Marion moan as her hot tongue explored it. She knew what to do, despite the fact that this was the first time she had ever done this to a woman: she did what she had loved men to do to her. She remembered what had driven her wild with passion on a man's mouth. Her tongue circled Marion's clitoris, then licked it; big full licks like licking an ice-cream cone. She then dipped down further, straining to penetrate her cunt itself, licking at the sensitive opening and its silky walls, pushing in as deep as she could go.
The first time Melinda felt her body throbbing, her own sex pulsing as much as if it, too, were being licked. She relished the taste of Marion's juices and the musky, delicious aroma of sex. Her mouth, her chin, her cheeks were wet. Marion was copious, like a river. She could hear her moan and feel her body trembling. She was bringing her off. She regulated her actions, began a rhythm, concentrating on her clitoris, circling it with the tip of her tongue, taking exactly the same time for each circumnavigation, then flicking the bud itself before starting the next round trip.
'Yes, yes,' Marion moaned. 'Use your fingers.' Immediately, Melinda slipped her hand under Marion's thigh and plunged two fingers into her wet and open cunt. There was room for more. She pushed a third finger home. The juice from Marion's cunt had run into her anus and, as Melinda pushed three fingers deep, her fourth slid into her rear passage, effortlessly, on the flood of wetness. She felt Marion's whole body tense, waiting for its release. With all her strength Melinda pushed her fingers up into Marion's sex, and centred her mouth on her clitoris, sucking it between her lips.
'Oh, oh...' Marion cried, her body arching off the bed, her eyes rolled back, the explosion of orgasm raking through every nerve, breaking over Melinda's hand and mouth, convulsing her muscles in spasms out of all control.
It was a long time before she regained her senses. Melinda knelt by her side, patiently waiting. Not moving. She had not been ordered to move.
Marion took Melinda's wrist and pulled her fingers from her sex. The withdrawal produced a minor spasm, a miniature of what had gone before. She sat up, wrapped her arm around Melinda's body and kissed her lips. It was not a usual kiss. Marion wanted to taste her own juices. She licked them eagerly from Melinda's mouth and face.
Finally she was satisfied.
'Now...' she said, letting the word hang in the air. Her hands pressed Melinda down onto the bed. She knelt by her side. 'You are not to come until you are told,' she said with that teasing smile again.
Melinda bit her lip. That was asking the impossible. She was on the brink of it now. She had nearly come as she'd felt Marion climax over her mouth. She couldn't be expected to hold back.
Marion read her thoughts. 'Or would you rather I stopped?'
Melinda said nothing. She did not know what to say.
'Answer,' Marion barked.
'No, no, mistress.'
Marion's hands were parting her legs, running along her thighs. Melinda could feel the nylon of Marion's stockings pressing against her side. 'Please, please...' she whispered, not being able to help herself.
'Shh...' Marion cautioned quietly.
Melinda felt fingers parting her labia. Marion leant over and kissed her again, this time lightly. She felt Marion's bra grazing her naked breasts. 'Don't make me punish you,' Marion whispered, forming the words with her lips still on Melinda's mouth.
The fingers probed Melinda's cunt; long fingers, going deep. Inside, Melinda felt them scissor apart, pushing against the wet slippery flesh. How was she going to hold back? It was impossible.
Marion's mouth descended to her breasts, licking and• sucking at them, pinching at the nipples with her teeth. 'Undo my bra,' she commanded.
Melinda found the catch of the bra and managed to open it with one hand. The bra fell off and Marion threw it aside. Melinda felt the heat and weight of Marion's breasts crushing into her own, their nipples as hard as stone. She writhed and squirmed so that their tits, all that spongy soft flesh, rubbed together.
Marion trailed her mouth down across Melinda's belly, down to where it had been before, the shaven triangle. Her fingers were reaming in and out of Melinda's cunt like a cock. She too found room for three. She too rode a finger into Melinda's anus. She too felt the juices flooding out like a gushing tap.
'No, no, no...' Melinda moaned. They were not really words. She tossed her head from side to side and bit her lip, trying to get herself back under control, trying to remember her obedience. But it was impossible. Her body was on fire, quivering with sex. Worse, her mind was full of images and sensations. Full of thoughts, and new experiences. The first time with a woman, it kept telling her.
Marion's tongue found her clitoris. It was not difficult. It was swollen and throbbing like a tiny cock. Melinda's body went rigid at this new intrusion. How was she supposed to resist this too? How could she? The tongue circled and probed. It licked at the fingers buried in her cunt. It was not like a man. Different. More pliant. More telling. More able to find the secret places, the hidden nerves. Or was that just the product of her fevered imagination? Was that just because it was driving her wild? She was going to come and she knew Marion would feel it, feel her cunt tense, her clitoris spasm, her juices flood. She had to resist; she had to obey.
Suddenly, Marion swung her thigh over Melinda's body. She positioned herself to kneel above Melinda's face. Melinda looked up at her hairy wet sex, framed by the welts of the stockings, the suspenders at the sides still taut, but those at the front loose and looped down until they almost touched Melinda's breasts. Without breaking the rhythm of her movements on Melinda's cunt, Marion slowly and deliberately lowered her sex onto Melinda's mouth.
With relief, Melinda arched her head off the bed to meet it. Eagerly, she latched her mouth to Mari
on's labia. It was an escape. It was a way out. She could control her body now, now she had something else to concentrate on. She could distract herself by giving Marion pleasure.
Immediately, she matched her mouth to Marion's. What Marion did to her she did to Marion. She felt her crisis pass. She had obeyed. She was still intensely excited, she wanted her completion desperately, but it was under control. As Marion's tongue flicked at her clitoris, she in turn flicked at Marion's. As Marion's fingers pushed into her cunt, she reached up with her hand and penetrated Marion again. Tit for tat. Melinda could feel Marion's body respond, just as her body did. She could feel Marion's breasts, their nipples as hard as pebbles, pressed into her belly, just as hers were crushed into Marion's.
She could feel Marion coming too. She felt Marion's body trembling. She had learnt quickly. Learnt to provoke it, manipulate it. She felt Marion losing control, felt her strokes falter, her tongue slacken, unable to concentrate any more on anything but her own feelings.
'Yes, yes...' she moaned triumphantly, as though this second orgasm was a wonderful bonus.
Melinda pushed her mouth hard up against Marion's sex, all subtlety abandoned now. Her fingers were deep in the silky wet depths of Marion's cunt and she felt it contracting around them. More, she felt Marion's breath, the panting desperate breath of her orgasm, expelled against her own sex as Marion went rigid, her body locked.
Marion's orgasm cascaded through her, so soon after the first that it was as though the two were joined, to double the intensity of what she was feeling.
Melinda felt her recover. Marion's fingers began to move again, up and down Melinda's tight vagina and anus, in and out. Her mouth started to suck and lick and tease again too.
'I give you permission to come...' Marion said, taking her mouth away from Melinda just long enough to say the words.
The words released Melinda just as surely as bonds being unchained from her body, the feeling she had experienced so many times in the last weeks. She felt the motor of her orgasm change gear, no longer held back. She turned her head to the side. Something caught her eye. Something strange. Something she did not understand at first. A crack of light, like a door being opened in a darkened room. But the door was on the other side of a solid wall. How could she see it, a crack of light through a black wall?
The light vanished, the door closed. Suddenly her mind leaped. She had noticed something strange about that wall when they'd first come in. Now she realised what it was. It was not a wall at all. One whole side of the room was glass, glass that had been tinted black, like the windows of a limousine. This room was a theatre, a tiny stage, and behind the glass people were watching, watching everything that happened, every detail, every moan and cry, every kiss and caress. The Master was watching. Melinda knew at once he was there. She could feel his eyes.
Her body tensed. From that moment, Melinda's eyes never left the glass. This had not been for Marion's benefit at all, but for his. She had been performing for him. She could feel his eyes so strongly now that she could imagine where he was sitting. She stared at the spot. She wanted him to see her, legs spread, compliant, open. Coming. Coming as she had been ordered to do, coming on Marion's tongue and fingers. It was perfect. The Master had planned it. Using Marion's passion, using her needs, for himself.
Melinda's body pulsed out of control. She could not have stopped her orgasm now. Marion's tongue was relentless, her fingers wily. Melinda let herself go. She felt her nerves crying out for relief, felt her muscles lock and her eyes roll back and the wave of her orgasm build to an impossible height before, finally, it crashed down on her body, washing her away, carrying her down into its depths like a piece of helpless flotsam until, after an infinity of time, it washed her up on the shore.
She felt Marion climb off her, but she did not have the energy to open her eyes. When, finally, she managed to persuade her eyelids to lift, Marion was gone.
Melinda raised her head off the bed and looked down her naked, sweating body and through the black glass wall. Though she could see nothing, she knew the Master was gone.
Melinda was taken back to her cell by Selene, who had allowed her to shower before the metal block was chained between her legs and her hands were cuffed to the wall again.
Lying in the dark in her locked cell, Melinda had never felt the need to touch herself so badly. For the last week she had not minded the restraints one bit. But now her body had been brought to life. If she had been able, she would have played her body like an instrument until its tunes were exhausted, squeezing climax after climax out of it. She would have come easily, effortlessly, her mind full of images, of memories of feelings and feelings themselves. She ached for sex, and more sex, like a thirsty man given only a sip of water. She could still taste Marion's lips. She could still feel Marion on and in her cunt. Her whole body seemed to be alive with sexual feeling. She needed relief. Desperately. They had, she realised, done it to her again. After a week of contentment they had created a need more urgent than ever before. A need she had no means to fulfil.
But it was not only her body that was tense. Her mind was racing too. After the time in Scotland she had been convinced that she was something special to the Master, something unique. That is why she had been untouched since then. This belief had been reinforced by her shocked realisation that her initiation into lesbian love was not at Marion's behest, but at the Master's and he had watched it all.
But why had he not then had her brought to his room? Why hadn't she provoked him to want her again? There was only one answer: that her exhibition with Marion had been merely the precursor to the main event, and that event did not include her. Marion had disappeared quickly, leaving Selene to bring her back to the cell. Was that because the Master was ready for her, wanted her? Was watching Marion take Melinda only the foreplay to Marion taking the Master?
It was depressing. After the euphoria of last week, when she'd convinced herself their intimacy had meant something, why hadn't he wanted her?
With mind and body tortured in turn, sleep proved impossible. Melinda lay, feeling used in a way she had not felt before. Her physical bondage suddenly seemed intolerable. Briefly, hopelessly, she struggled against it, trying to wrench her wrists from the handcuffs, flexing her legs. But the cold steel of the cuffs hurt her wrists, and the inner surface of the metal block, like the roughest sandpaper against her softest skin, soon convinced her to stop. It was useless. She was a prisoner, a slave. What she wanted was not important. The only wish that mattered belonged, as she did, to the Master.
Perhaps, it occurred to her in a flash, what had happened in Scotland was as deliberate as everything else that had been done to her. The Master wanted her to feel special and unique precisely so he could dash her hopes and leave her feeling as she felt now, abject and deserted. He had allowed her to think, for a few days, that she was still a person in her own right, with feelings and thoughts and emotions, only to prove to her conclusively that she was not. She was an object, a piece of property. To be done to, not to do.
She felt this thought comforting. In the end, after all, it was submission that she craved.
As, finally, she drifted off to sleep, somewhere deep in the house, or outside in the grounds, she could not be sure, she heard a distant bell, like a burglar alarm going off. She thought she heard dogs too. But it was a long way off and it might have been the beginning of some complex dream where she had set the bells ringing herself, and the dogs running at her heels as she tried to sneak, uninvited, into the Master's bedroom.
Cybele brought her breakfast, watched her use the toilet and shower and shave. She washed her hair too. By the time it was dry and she had eaten her breakfast, the make-up woman had arrived. Her appearance, Melinda knew by now, meant that she was not to spend the day idly as she had over the last week.
Though she had no way of telling, the make-up applied to her face felt unusually heavy, especially around the eyes. Her fingers and toenails were cleaned and re-varnished. Her hai
r was brushed. A lipstick, last of all, was applied with a brush. No matter how long she was at the house, Melinda would never get used to someone else performing these basic tasks. It did not make her feel pampered. It made her feel, as she knew it was meant to, helpless.
As she was brought back into the cell she saw that, once again, clothes had been laid out on the bed.
'Get dressed,' Cybele ordered, locking the bathroom door.
The yellow dress on the mattress was made of some sort of Spandex material. Melinda stepped into it and pulled it up over her body. It was not easy. She had to wriggle and squirm before she could wheedle her arms into the shoulder straps. But the effort was worth it. The dress clung to every curve of Melinda's flowing figure, its low neckline revealing her cleavage, its slick, shiny material following the line of her waspy waist and the smooth curves of her pert, up-tilted arse. It hid little of her thighs.
A pair of matching yellow shoes had been laid out. Melinda slipped her feet into them after a prompting by Cybele. Naturally, there were no knickers. Melinda realised she had not been allowed to wear knickers since her first day in the Master's house.
Cybele had taken two gold chains from one of the pouches on her belt.
'Hold your hands out in front of you,' she ordered. Melinda did as she was told. The first chain was the width of her body with a loop at each end. Cybele slipped the two loops around Melinda's wrists, securing them with what was, in fact, a tiny padlock, though it looked more like a gold ornament of some kind. The second chain went around Melinda's neck again secured, similarly, by a tiny gold padlock. From this chain, another hung down between Melinda's breasts. Quickly, Cybele attached this to the middle of the wrist chain by means of a fourth golden lock.
The make-up woman had stood watching all this. As Cybele snapped the final lock into place, she picked up the last item on the mattress and handed it to her. It was a black leather hood fashioned in the softest of glove leather. The hood was laced at the back. Pulling the lacing open, Cybele guided the hood down over Melinda's head.
Melinda and the Master Page 16
