A couple of times she caught Ben's sideways glances at her. He seemed to be uncomfortable for some reason and she felt sad and also embarrassed for him. He was the one who had brought them here after all, a small voice whispered in her mind. But still, he was her husband and she loved him.
She was tired of living hand to mouth and on the run. If this arrangement with the president was what it took, so be it. But she would still hate to see Melody grow up estranged from her father. A faint smile crossed Jennifer's lips at the thought of her sweet two year old daughter. She had checked on her first thing this morning and found the toddler happily playing with her two doting nannies. The women appeared so enthralled with the child that for a moment Jenny felt jealous. Why oh why, couldn’t everybody be happy like them?
Suddenly Jenny snapped out of her daydreaming and realized that both men had fallen silent. The president was reading something on his smartphone while Ben was staring at an object that had suddenly materialized on the kitchen table. It was a glass butt plug! Suddenly Jenny felt faint. How much did Ben know about what had transpired between her and the president last night? Would he be okay with it? What would the president do if Ben didn't accept their arrangement?
“Okay, the president,” said putting away his smartphone. “Now that this is done we can talk about more mundane matters.” A faint smile crossed the man's lips when he saw Jenny's deep blush. "You can go now, Ben. Thank you for counseling me on this financial matter. I will see you later tonight. Remember what I told you and make sure you follow my instructions. Okay?"
Jenny could have sworn she saw Ben visibly tremble at the man's words. He still made a clear effort to avoid looking her in the eye as he reached out, took the butt plug from the table and holding it in both hands said, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He left the room without another word leaving his wife staring speechless at the president who was just then finishing off his own glass of what appeared to be ice cold milk. Oh no! He has been told to take the plug and … Oh God!
The president smiled. "For you I have something else, my dear." He reached into the inside pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out what appeared to be an expensive-looking velvet jewelry box. He opened it and Jenny gasped. In it lay what had to be a multimillion-dollar piece of jewelry. White gold and platinum mesh were intricately interwoven with row upon glittering grow of brilliant diamonds!
“It goes on your ankle, sweetheart,” the man said and picking it up walked over to where she stood. "Like I said last night, Jenny, I am very traditional." Before she knew what was happening, he knelt at her feet and with practiced motions attached the exquisite anklet around her right foot securing it in place. His touch felt like a gentle whisper along her skin. Then he took hold of her ankle and lifting her foot just a little, slowly took off first one shoe and then the other. He kissed her knee and then stood.
She found herself looking almost straight up trying to gauge the look in his eyes.
"I gave you something but I would like something in return, dear child," the older man whispered gently caressing her cheek. “From now on do not wear shoes. At least not in my presence. When you see me coming, I want you to instinctively slip out of whatever footwear you happen to be in. Can you do that for me, Jenny?" The man asked, his fingers leaving contrails of electricity as they glided over her blushing face.
"Yes, master," Jenny knew right then she belonged to him body and soul. She would do anything and everything this man wanted.
“Let us go meet my wife," the president said taking Jenny by the hand. He led her out of the kitchen past a line of bodyguards and up a flight of stairs into a study where the beautiful blond woman Jenny recognized from the night before was now fully clothed and working at a desk.
Giselle had followed them all the way here and now Jenny heard her close and lock the doors behind them.
"My love," the president said and Jenny felt jealousy fill her heart at the warmth of his voice.
"My love," the woman replied signing off on something with a flourish and then looking up in their direction. "You brought her."
"She has agreed to everything," the master said. "Some of it she doesn't know yet, but she has agreed all the same."
The woman stood and with consternation Jenny realized how tall and strong the mistress of the house was. She was almost as tall as the president! Jenny felt surrounded, like a child in a room full of adults.
“Did she? Such a delightful little creature," the woman said and Jenny realized she wasn't expected to reply. She stayed silent enduring the inspection as stoically as she could. "I do have to admit she looks even more delightful in real life than in those pictures."
What pictures?
“Look how sweetly she arches her brow,” the woman giggled. “One can read her like an open book!” she said and they both laughed. Now Jenny was blushing furiously fervently wishing that they would soon be done with this humiliating experience.
Then the woman bent down and kissed her! Full on the lips. Jenny's eyes grew big and she froze unable to breathe or think.
"Kiss her back," the president's low voice instructed her. "Kiss her like you mean it. She will be the adoptive mother of your child, we are almost family now."
Jenny felt weak in the knees and wanted to sit and if it wasn't for the nearness of the president’s body, she would have tumbled to the ground. She parted her lips and returned the bigger woman's kiss. Their tongues met and with consternation Jenny realized she tasted good and also unusual like a wild berry in spring. They French kissed for a long while and just when Jenny started feeling waves of warmth begin to coarse through her body, the woman broke the kiss and took a step back. "You will have to allow me to take her for a spin, dear husband," the woman said wiping her own lips with the back of her hand.
"Anytime, my love," the president replied.
"I don't know, my love," his wife said. "She does kiss like a little whore but I'm not sure… I detect a certain hesitation. She still needs to convince us she is in it for the long run." The woman leaned on the edge of the desk and looked skeptically at Jenny.
Jenny felt the president's hot breath behind her neck. "The stage is yours, Jenny. Convince us you want to stay and be ours. A friendly note of advice since I am already sold on how much you want to be mine: Do something so out of character that you will remember it for the rest of your life. Do not worry about the impression you make on us. We are jaded, but we will know if your heart is in it.”
Time slowed down for Jenny and then stopped completely. Her heartbeat that sounded loud as drumroll in her ears set the cadence of her breath. Slowly she took first one small barefoot step, and then another, and then another towards the desk on the edge of which Madame was sitting.
"May I…"
"If you are asking for permission, then you really are looking for an excuse not to do it," the president's voice came in from somewhere. Jenny eyes centered on madam’s as she placed the palms of her two trembling hands on the broad knees of the woman. Even though she judged her to be no more than a couple of years older than herself, Jenny could feel the pure power and strength of the muscles beneath her fingers. Jenny leaned in and gently knelt between the legs of the older woman.
The drumbeat in Jenny’s ears accelerated as she gently took the heel of the woman’s left foot and carefully removing her shoe, brought the beautiful manicured toes up to her lips. A clean smell of soap welcomed her as she placed one delicate first kiss on the big toe and then on every other one in succession ending with the small toe that had no nail. Jenny used the tip of her tongue to wiggle in between the digits laving every nook and cranny with copious saliva. She was surprised when a moan escaped her lady's lips and a certain joy filled her heart at having elicited such a joyous feeling from her mistress. She moved on to the other foot and was surprised to find an anklet there not unlike her won. The universe had shrunk to a point centered where her lips met the skin of her mistress as she gingerly made her way up the ankle past the shin covering
the woman's thigh with wet smooches along the way. All the while Jenny kept massaging the soles of her mistress' feet until she found it necessary to reach and bunch her skirt up so that now she could reveal her target.
The lady lifted her butt helpfully as Jenny pulled down her black lace panties revealing the butterfly of her inner lips. A soft moan escaped Jennifer's mouth at the wet ripples of pink and glistening flesh that peaked from in between the jet black curls of her mistress' bush.
She dared not use her hand but let instinct guide her as she brought her face forward burying it in the woman's center. She felt the strong woman's muscles convulse and ripple beneath her arms in response to her ministrations as she found the apex of her clit.
An unusual sensation registered from her own nether parts and Jenny realized she was sopping wet down there as well. She used the copious saliva naturally pouring from her lapping lips to rub it in with her tongue against the vulva of her mistress. The woman smelled of musk and open spaces, of mountain and horseback riding. She ate her out using the soft moans and whimpers of her mistress as a trustworthy guide until the older woman's legs wrapped themselves behind her neck pressing her face tight against her nubbin of pleasure
Her breath was suddenly cut off and Jenny soon started convulsing and that was what finally brought her mistress over the edge. Squirt upon wet squirt covered Jenny's face in dripping oil that trickled down her dress until the woman's convulsions finally ended. She looked up at Madame. and smiled placing one gentle last kiss at the apex of the older woman's hairy center.
"You are a precious, precious treasure, little woman," the mistress said breathlessly. "A definite keeper."
Jenny Gets Her First Rings
Where had all the cars gone? Had these streets ever had bustling traffic jostling for space, she wondered? Or had it always been camels, bicycles and dust here? Her feet hurt but she forced her mind off the incessant discomfort that every jagged little indentation caused. It was as if the road itself was determined to somehow lay claim on her body and imprint her with edges of Old-World dominance. Jenny gasped and almost tripped to the ground.
There had to be hundreds of people in the street, all around her, but no one reacted. No one offered even the briefest glance of sympathy. She felt like a shadow, shrouded in the black camel wool of her burqa.
Before her the waters of humanity parted, revealing a path narrow and lonely leading up the door of the blacksmith. How did the crowd know where she was going? Did they know who she was? Was it the whiteness of her feet, the blinding glimmer of her anklet, or the infernal chime of her chastity belt that marked her so adamantly as property? Or was it her blue eyes, the only blue eyes as far as she could tell in the street? Countless other women, all clad head to toe in black burkas shared the street just like her. But no one offered them the silent deference they reserved for her and her alone. Jenny knew it for what it was: A tribute to her master and owner. In a crowded street, narrow and winding, people would jostle and run out of her way. Not once did Jenny’s cloak brush against that of someone else. Not once did anyone meet her eyes or merely grunt an acknowledgement her way.
It was as if she was a ghost, an elf: godlike and saintly, but perilous to engage.
It was her second foray out beyond the walls of the presidential compound. First she had been sent out to see the blacksmith and have him take measurements of her neck. He was a eunuch, or so she had been told. She was told to trust him and follow his instructions, no questions asked. Or else.
Now she was going to collect the collar he had made.
Mistress Aisha had explained to Jenny that the blacksmith would place the collar made out of heavy iron around her neck and then use a powerful blowtorch to solder it in place. It would be heavy, thick and uncomfortable, Aisha had said. But it was supposed to be that way. A girl's discomfort was how nature allowed her to show her love and devotion for her master, the future father of her children, the undisputed leader of the country and her owner, the president, General Nursultan Ismailov.
Having her go alone to the blacksmith was meant to be part of Jenny’s journey of submission. She was well aware of the symbolism and accepted it. Jenny was her master's chosen lamb. She was his to do with as he pleased. His absolute and complete power over her made her knees week and her nether parts throb with tension. Every step she took, every time her sonorous chastity belt chimed, was a step closer to her master.
She was almost there.
Jenny turned a corner and saw the door to the blacksmith's workshop open. He was expecting her. She stepped in and when she heard the heavy wooden door close behind, she almost fainted.
She had arrived.
The heat of the space engulfed her. The darkness made her dizzy. The roaring brazier at the center at the room overwhelmed her vision.
“Undress, little girl,” came the blacksmith’s voice from the darkness. She squinted against the blazing heat of the forge as she tried to make out his form.
His skin was black like coal. But his eyes shone like two embers glowing with angry menace. Jenny reached down and picked up the hem of the heavy cloth. She lifted it up and pulled it over her head letting it drop to the dusty floor. Except for the chastity belt that Aisha had placed over her privates, Jenny was naked like the day she had been born.
The man stepped forward from the shadows. Jenny gasped. He was tall, heavily muscled from his daily work with the forge and very severe-looking.
She almost squealed when she saw the milky whiteness that glared down at her where his left eye should have been.
He was blind in the left eye! Its white orb contrasted with his keen and alert right eye. He looked down on the quivering body of the frightened young American. Jenny wondered what color was his skin beneath the layers of black soot that covered its oily texture. Out of nowhere he reached out and wrapped a steely grip beneath her chin freezing her in place.
He brought his giant head closer still to Jenny’s face and she recognized that beneath the grime there lay a beautiful man. His high cheekbones and thick curly hair was matted back and held in a tight ponytail.
“Tremble little girl,” he growled, “for your master sent you to me and you are mine until I let you go.”
His words made her whole body tremble. Mistress Aisha had told her that the blacksmith was merely another servant, he was a eunuch, somebody who wouldn’t be able to hurt her down there even if he tried. But looking up at this monster of a man, Jenny wondered how much faith she could put in the words of her Mistress. The man looking down on her was the epitome of masculine force and virility.
Had he been gelded? Oh Lord, she thought, did people still do such horrible things in this backwater of a country?
“I can read your thoughts like an open book, little woman,” the man sneered. Roughly he placed his free hand on her boob and squeezed, twisting as he did it. She whimpered and when she parted her lips to gasp, he bent forward and kissed her! His lips were strong and his tongue – forceful.
The blacksmith put his hand on the blushing woman’s widely spread hips. Her chastity belt was now the only item left on her body shielding her from whatever this monster was about to dish out. With practiced movements he quickly unlocked the tiny padlock hanging just below her navel. Her chastity belt fell to the ground by her feet making a loud metallic sound that reverberated from the barren stone walls. Her naked mound and glistening beauty lips were now displayed before the man.
The blacksmith couldn’t help himself and licked his lips already imagining how beautiful she would look when he placed a thick and heavy gold ring to hang between her legs.
“Kneel!” the monster rasped. She found it all too easy to tumble down in a heap at his feet. Instinctively she gathered herself back up and knelt forcing herself to look straight ahead. That was when she saw it!
The monstrosity of a male endowment that hung limp like the trunk of an elephant inches from her face!
It was only the fourth time in her life she had seen a
naked man but this one looked so different than anyone or anything she had seen before! Big, thick and heavily veined, the man’s cock twitched like a lizard at rest as it hung between his heavily muscled thighs. But it wasn’t so much his size that made her catch her breath, but what had been done to him!
Now Jenny realized what mistress Aisha meant when she had told her that he wouldn’t be able to perform. Row upon row of heavy shiny metal studs lined the length of the man’s cock starting at the base of its head and ending all the way back at the foundation of his manhood.
His entire cock shimmered with reflections from the fiery brazier. Surely the pain had to be excruciating not to mention the ever-present discomfort the metal piercings had to cause. A heavy chuckle came from the man’s chest and she looked up at him seeing the glint in his eye.
“They are neither painful nor will they prevent me from doing anything I want to you,” the man growled patting her blond head with a giant palm. “Remember, open book,” he laughed and Jenny felt herself grow wet at the sound of this man’s chuckle.
Something deep in her made her instinctively want to submit and placate, and please, and nurture, and bring pleasure to the creature before her. Then suddenly she saw the heavy cock grow before her eyes and rear its massive head inevitably coming to point like an ancient scimitar straight up into the air. Her lips parted and her body moved imperceptibly forward. She could already see herself lick his rod, more steel than flesh, and instinctively her mouth watered at the image.
But the blacksmith took a step back and walked away. He picked up a paper that looked more like a shopping list than anything official. “Let me see… What does master want me to do to you, his new little slave…”
Milked, Volumes Five Through Eight Page 5
