Krissy

by S. J. Lewis

  “Have you had enough?” Krissy asked, looking back over her shoulder.

  “Yes!” Wendy replied, her voice muffled by the bedclothes. “Yes! Please! No more!”

  Krissy got off of the girl and made her kneel at one end of the bed, sobbing and sniffling, her head down. There wasn’t much to work with, but Krissy bunched up the blanket and used the lone pillow to prop herself up so that she could watch what would be going on. She laid back, raised her knees and spread them.

  “Eat my pussy,” she ordered. Wendy looked up, her eyes red and full of tears. She didn’t refuse, though she wasn’t very quick to obey. Krissy cut her some slack. The handcuffs made things difficult, but not impossible. Krissy wished that Wendy’s hair wasn’t so very, very short. There wasn’t anything to grab to hold the girl’s head in place if she tried to pull away. Wendy slowly leaned forward. She licked at Krissy’s pussy tentatively.

  “Let me help,” Krissy said as she spread her labia with her fingers. “Start by licking my clit. You know where it is.”

  There was a look of utter dismay on Wendy’s face as she stared at Krissy’s pussy for a moment. Then, still sniffling, she edged a little closer and used her tongue. Krissy hissed with pleasure at the contact.

  “Harder,” she ordered Wendy. “Don’t be afraid to really get it in there.”

  Wendy said nothing. She kept licking, her tongue wonderfully stimulating. Krissy took the girl’s head in her hands and pulled her a little closer. She might not be able to take Wendy by her nonexistent hair, but she could get a grip of sorts on her ears. Wendy made a choked little noise and kept licking.

  “Girls taste good,” Krissy crooned. “Believe me, I know.” She could see Wendy’s fettered hands, clenched into fists now. It was clear that the girl didn’t like this, but Krissy didn’t care. As inexperienced as she was, Wendy was getting the job done, and it had been so long since Krissy had enjoyed another woman that all she wanted was for this to go on and on.

  “Ahhhh…” Krissy arched her back. “That’s it! That’s it! Just keep doing what you’re doing! Don’t stop!” She heard Wendy whimper when her grip on the girl’s ears got a little too tight. Krissy didn’t bother to loosen up. It seemed to inspire Wendy to buckle down to her work.

  The orgasm hit like a truck. As Krissy’s body shook and spasmed, she raised her hips, thrusting her pussy harder against Wendy’s face. Wendy writhed, making a high-pitched keening noise, but she didn’t fight or try to pull away. Instead, she kept licking and licking, mechanically now, until the waves of pleasure wracking Krissy’s body finally faded away and Krissy let go of her.

  “God, that was good!” Krissy breathed after a long moment. “You have real talent, Wendy.” She reached out to ruffle Wendy’s hair, forgetting for the moment that there wasn’t enough to ruffle. She settled for rubbing the girl’s head affectionately, feeling the blonde stubble rasp softly against the palm of her hand.

  “May I go now?” Wendy asked without looking at Krissy.

  “No,” Krissy replied. Now come on up here and learn how to use that mouth of yours on my breasts.”

  Wendy gave a small, despairing moan, but she did as she was bidden. Krissy cradled her close as the girl kissed her breasts.

  “Take my nipple into your mouth,” Krissy urged. “That’s it. Now suck on it, gently. Yes…yes…that’s it.” Now that her urgent need had been satisfied, Krissy was feeling affectionate towards the girl. As Wendy sucked gently, Krissy fondled her small, firm breasts with one free hand. From the way Wendy flinched away from the contact, she didn’t seem to like that either. Krissy was sure that in time she could teach Wendy to enjoy it, but she wouldn’t be given that time. She made Wendy kiss and lick her breasts and nipples until she felt cocooned in a warm, rosy glow.

  “Mmmm…that’s enough, darling,” she crooned, gently stroking Wendy’s head. “Here, let me show you how good I can make you feel now.”

  Wendy protested feebly, but let Krissy move her around until they were cuddled together spoon-fashion. Now Krissy wished she had the key to Wendy’s handcuffs, because the metal was hard against the soft skin of her belly, but she’d just have to put up with it. She held Wendy close, gently stroking Wendy’s body, ignoring the girl’s weak protests. She worked her way down across Wendy’s belly and finally between her legs. Her fingers quickly told her that Wendy wasn’t getting into it. It didn’t matter. With some skill and persistence she was sure that she could give Wendy an orgasm of her own. It had worked with some previous lovers, and it could work again.

  Wendy kept crying and sniffling as Krissy gently probed and stroked, and after a while her tears dwindled away as her other end slowly grew warm and wet. Krissy grinned and kissed Wendy’s neck.

  “See?” she whispered. “It’s starting to feel nice, isn’t it?” Wendy stirred and made a new noise, almost but not quite a moan. “Just relax,” Krissy said, nuzzling her companion. “Just let yourself go. I know what to do.”

  Krissy never got a chance to do it. The door burst open and suddenly there were four men in the room, all grim-looking and all oriental. Krissy shrieked and yelled as she was pried apart from Wendy, who promptly curled up into a ball. The men threw Krissy to the floor and pinned her down, fitting shackles to her wrists and ankles. They paid no more attention to her wails of protest than she had to Wendy’s pleas. When she tried to fight, one of the men slapped her hard enough to stun her and make the job of securing her easier. She still couldn’t see straight when they hauled her roughly to her feet and dragged her away. Dazed, she turned her head for a last look at Wendy. All she could see was the girl’s back, and the handcuffs she’d put on her just a little while ago. Then she was out in the hallway, still being dragged along, and all she could see was the open door.

  The men were laughing. It was a cruel sound. They were also talking to each other in that strange language, back and forth over her head. She had no idea what they were saying. Then one of them roughly cupped her breast and squeezed it. He said something to his companions, and they all laughed uproariously, as if he’d just told some very funny joke. At that point, Krissy was grateful that she couldn’t understand them.

  They dragged her down the hallway to an unfamiliar door. There they paused to pull a black cloth bag over her head and tie it snugly around her neck. She heard the door open, and then she was dragged through it and a little beyond. Then they threw her to the floor. She grunted from the impact. There was some sort of covering on the floor, but it wasn’t very well padded.

  “Ass up, bitch!” It was Gabriel’s voice. Krissy obeyed immediately. She couldn’t spread her legs as wide as they had trained her to because of the shackles on her ankles. Surely they wouldn’t count that against her? Then something thin and hard came down across her upturned ass, and she screamed. She braced herself for another stroke, but instead a man’s hands gripped her by her hips. She felt him moving up close behind her and hoped that she was still wet enough from her session with Wendy so that the coming gang rape wouldn’t hurt too badly.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was no good trying to find a less uncomfortable position. The best Krissy could do was shift her weight a little bit from one foot to the other every so often. The heavy iron frame they had her bound to wouldn’t permit any more movement than that. She stood with her hands up at the level of her head, trapped there in some sort of yoke. Black Velcro straps circled her wrists and her neck, keeping her arms in place. Her legs were spread, more Velcro straps circling her ankles. She was naked and on display, and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it. She couldn’t say anything about it either, because there was a hard rubber bit gag wedged between her jaws, held tightly in place. From time to time she couldn’t help dribbling a little onto her breasts.

  She was in some new place. She was convinced of that, though she couldn’t be sure. After they had gang-raped her while she had that black bag over her head they had done something to her…drugged her, most likely. She had pass
ed out and when she awoke again she was here. Wherever ‘here’ actually was, it felt completely different from the place she had been before. Most of it was cold stone and hard metal bars, steeped in decades of despair and shame. Then there were parts like this one, an elegant banquet hall, sumptuous, long, wide and high, tastefully lit and decorated, the sort of place where wealthy people would have elegant dinners just like the one going on right now, except for a few jarring notes.

  First of all, the table where all the well-dressed men and women were seated was round, with a hollow area in the center. Krissy was in that hollow area, lashed to that barbaric frame, which was not only elevated enough to give the dinner party a clear view of her naked body, so that someone could see right up between her spread legs, but slowly rotating so that each and every guest could view Krissy from every side without having to get up from their chairs. It was humiliating being the centerpiece and feeling all those appraising stares roaming her body. Closing her eyes didn’t help. She could still feel their eyes, crawling over her flesh like loathsome bugs. What made it even worse, if that was possible, was that she hadn’t been fed today, and the wonderful aromas of steak and lobster and wine and all the rest tortured her constantly, making her stomach growl faintly. Closing her eyes didn’t alleviate that at all.

  She wondered what was going on, and if they planned for her to provide further amusement after the dinner was ended. She could tell from the lustful looks of the men, and some of the women, seated around the table, that they were thinking about that possibility.

  There were other captive women here besides her. All of them were blondes or redheads, all of them were at least a little younger than she was, while some were much younger. She saw them sometimes, when three or four of them were brought together and made to do yoga exercises under the watchful eye of a wizened old man who always carried a length of thin bamboo and never hesitated to use it on any woman not doing as she was told. They were not permitted to speak to each other. She heard them at other times, crying or screaming or begging somewhere nearby but out of sight. She was past the crying and the begging herself, and she only screamed when they did something particularly painful to her, which was not often. So long as she sucked cock when she was ordered, or submitted to being fucked when they wanted, she wasn’t treated too badly. But they always kept her naked, and they always looked at her with that stomach-turning lust in their eyes. After enduring those conditions for so long, it should be possible for her to find a way to live with it. But Krissy couldn’t. It all boiled down to her being a slave, kept solely for the sex that others could have with her, and the pleasure they could take from using her body, and whenever she thought about that she was struck with a dark and formless horror.

  The iron frame rotated slowly. Krissy’s legs grew tired, her jaws ached from the bit gag stuffed in her mouth and she started to get hunger pains as the meal progressed. They would do something to her once it was over, she was sure. In the meantime, she would just have to endure the discomfort and the humiliation being inflicted on her.

  The dinner guests were a mixed bag: Some seemed European, others Latino, African, Arab or Asian. The men all appeared to be rich and powerful, as did some of the women. The rest of the women looked like trophy girlfriends, and not all of them seemed to be comfortable sitting here while a naked woman was on such prominent display in front of them. Maybe they were wondering if their rich and powerful lovers would do the same to them one day.

  A thought struck Krissy. What if one of those men had grown tired of his current trophy and wanted to dispose of her in some safe and private way? What better way to do that than leave her here to become another slave? Was that why some of the younger women seemed so ill at ease, because they had thought of the same thing themselves?

  Unlike the variegated guests, the staff was all Oriental, with impassive faces and unreadable dark eyes. So were the guards and trainers at this place, which was one reason Krissy was sure that she had been taken someplace far, far away.

  The dinner dragged on, at least from Krissy’s point of view. Sometimes she could see two of the men in close conversation, casting quick glances at her as they spoke, and she knew that they were talking about her, even if she couldn’t understand a word, if she happened to hear any.

  The main course was taken away, to be replaced by dessert. It was some kind of light pastry, covered with whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate sauce. Krissy’s mouth watered when she saw it. She hadn’t had any of those things for so long! Her saliva dribbled down her chin and dripped onto her breasts. One of the men noticed her reaction and mockingly pretended to offer her some before scarfing it down himself with obvious relish. Krissy bit down on the hard rubber gag.

  Finally came the coffee. Krissy couldn’t stand it. She hadn’t had any of that for what seemed like ages either, and it smelled so rich and so good. Oh, she was given food and drink, but always bland stuff or diluted fruit juice whenever it wasn’t plain water. The dinner had to be nearly over now, Krissy hoped. Her legs were starting to give her little twinges, which meant they were getting close to cramping up.

  “Attention, please. Attention!” The voice was deep, speaking English-English, not American-English with more than a trace of some foreign accent. The guests all turned towards the source of that voice. Krissy had to wait until her rotating platform brought her around to see who it was. She had never seen the man before. He was another oriental, tall and heavily built, dressed in flowing red and yellow robes that made her think of China. With that, the rotating platform she was on came to a stop.

  “I’m sorry I could not join you all earlier,” the man said, smiling. “Urgent business, I’m afraid. I trust you all enjoyed your meals.” There was a general sound of assent from the dinner guests.

  “Good. Good. We have a bit of entertainment for you all now, if you would care to move towards the far end of the hall. My servants will bring your chairs, but please do bring your own coffees along.” As the guests rose, the robed man looked up at Krissy and smiled. It was a smile that sent a spike of ice down her back. He kept his eyes fixed on her, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Soon all the guests had passed behind her, out of sight, and the only person she could see was that frightening man. She could hear noises behind her as if heavy things were being moved, and then the waiters appeared in ones and twos, taking away the chairs. Then two of them reappeared and began moving a section of the table. As they did, the platform lurched slightly and began to descend. Krissy knew how it all worked. What she didn’t know was what was planned for her. Once the platform was at floor level, the robed man slowly came over to her, smiling. Krissy held quite still as he reached out and caressed her cheek.

  “Hello, Krissy,” he said. “I am your owner. You will call me ‘Master’.” He paused, waiting.

  “Yes, Master,” Krissy said. What did it matter how many men she must call master?

  “Very good,” he nodded, and his hands moved to Krissy’s breasts. They were big and hard and surprisingly gentle. “I am told that you are properly trained now. We will see.” He unfastened the Velcro strap around her neck. One of the servants immediately hurried over to him and handed him a collar and leash. The collar was black leather, and very thin. He fastened it snugly around Krissy’s neck. The leash was also black leather and also thin. He clipped it to the collar.

  “I do not care if you can walk, girl,” he said. “You will crawl along after me like a dog at heel.”

  “Yes, Master,” Krissy agreed numbly. She had been trained to do that. Servants came over and freed Krissy’s wrists and ankles and removed the heavy bit gag, then helped her to get on her hands and knees as her master held on to the end of her leash. She thought she might have been able to walk after all, but that was irrelevant now. She waited until her master turned to start crawling along at heel behind him.

  “Are you hungry, little girl?” he asked without looking at her.

  “Yes, Master,” Krissy replied.


  “I’m sure that you are, after looking at all the wonderful food for so long. Well, I have a special treat for you. We saved some of the meal for you, and you will have a chance to eat it.”

  “Thank you, Master,” Krissy said promptly. It certainly sounded good at first blush, but she knew there would be some catch to it. As they came around the table, she could see that the guests were now sitting in rows in front of a big flat-screen television mounted on a wheeled frame, as if they were about to watch a movie. There was a wide aisle running right through the middle of the chairs, and the robed man headed straight for it. He led Krissy along, occasionally giving the leash a short, sharp tug if he thought she was lagging. They passed straight down the aisle and once more Krissy could feel all those eyes on her. The man halted her in front of the rows of chairs, her side to the audience.

  “I’d like to introduce you to my latest acquisition,” he announced to the crowd. “I am certain that you all admired her during the dinner. She has recently completed her training, so she has earned herself a special treat.”

  Krissy kept her head down, so she didn’t see what a servant was bringing over until a round metal plate was placed on the floor right under her nose. She could see chunks of lobster, bite-sized pieces of steak, pieces of potato, some asparagus…and it all looked like leftovers, food that the guests hadn’t bothered to eat. Krissy gritted her teeth. Table scraps or not, they were more appealing than the tasteless stuff they had been feeding her up to now. She would eat them, with pleasure, even with all these people watching. But she would have to wait until she was given permission to do so. She kept still, waiting anxiously for that permission.

  “Her name is Krissy,” her master continued. “Just look at that splendid little body. Now we shall show some videos of her training while she eats.”