A House of Slaves
Chapter 29 Decisions And Regrets (I am your bitch)
And so it had progressed to this, Aquina’s second time with Miss Hollins.
She had needed to take this step; as arousing as watching and hearing about Claire’s abuse was to her, she had needed, now, to taste some herself.
The first session, a week ago, where the woman had shaved her (and she had then sent her photo to her mistress) had been satisfying but brief, and so a second day had been planned; a much more intense day.
She was sitting now on a straight-backed chair, her buttocks and pussy still stinging from her recent session with the woman, who punished her as an interested Claire watched.
And with a ball-gag now in place and her arms tied at the elbows, forcing her breasts out, Aquina would endure a torture of a different kind, as she would be forced to actually watch (and listen) as Claire and Hollins made love.
The script had been decided upon, with Claire of course doing as she was told; but for this scenario she needed no direction at all.
Right now the two women were kissing passionately, Claire licking and sucking Hollins’s tongue as the woman fingered her aggressively; Claire’s legs were spread wide so Aquina could see what was happening.
“What are you?” Hollins asked and Aquina felt a stab as Claire replied, “I am a slave.”
“Who do you belong to, bitch?”
“I belong to you, Mistress, I am yours,” Claire said easily and kissed the woman’s throat and face and sucked on her nipples. This being now their fifth time together, Claire did not need to pretend what she felt for this woman.
Hollins pushed the slave roughly back on the bed and spread her legs, slapping her pussy. “What do you want, slave, beg for it.”
“Mmmm,” Claire sighed, before she spread her labia with both hands. “Fuck me, Mistress, mmm, please fuck me,” she moaned as Hollins now slowly forced a thick dildo into her very wet vagina. With both their legs now spread, Aquina could clearly see the dark phallus enter and move; it was incredibly delicious torment, especially knowing how aroused Claire was and that this was not an act for Aquina’s, or anyone’s, benefit.
After a few minutes, the blonde woman was placed on her knees, facing Aquina, and Hollins mounted her from behind, her eyes focused on the woman tied to the chair. Then, after a few minutes of this action, Claire was moved again, to a reverse cowgirl position, where Aquina could see the glistening phallus as it moved in and out of her lover’s pussy, as well as the clear passion as Claire arched her back and then turned her head to kiss Hollins with desire.
Aquina moaned now as she watched Hollins stand and take Claire from the bed. She then took a black marker and wrote something on the woman’s pelvis, then brought her to stand in front of Aquina. Hollins removed the gag and asked the bound woman to read what was written. “Property of Candace Hollins,” Aquina murmured hoarsely.
Hollins kissed Aquina’s mouth, then spit into it. “That’s right,” she smiled and put the ball-gag back in and led Claire into the other bedroom, both looking back, Hollins winking and Claire blowing a kiss, before closing the door.
Aquina sat in wonderful agony, again not asking herself why she did this, why she wanted this, or needed this; she had tried to be something else, but here she was.
Some things just are and cannot be explained, and she needed to serve a mistress it seemed, one way or another.
The iron gate clanged shut behind Aquina once again,
but this time it was different, as she was now heading out, and it would be a while, probably a long while, before she would be back. So she had come this time to say goodbye.
She said a little prayer for Brandon as she walked down the hall, her footsteps echoing. She hoped he could hold on; both his lawyer and Adam doubted he would serve the full seven years. Their guess was maybe four, and he had been credited with double time served, so he had some months in already.
Sanders had promised Aquina that he would find Brandon a spot in his organization once he was out; loyalty had value. And Aquina had made her promise too; she would be there, and she kept her promises.
Meredith Delmare was preparing the bath and the temperature of the water was important. She was naked as she did this task and two labia rings could now be seen from behind, dangling from her fat nether lips between her spread legs. As well as the rings placed there by her mistress, Miss Sandy, the woman’s initials, ST, now sat just to the right of the word ‘slave’, the horror left behind by the monster slowly receding.
Meredith had tried to make it work with Jessie but it hadn’t, and they both agreed with the fact that they were not meant to be. But all had not been a loss, as in time nurse Sandy had approached her as a follow-up to their little ‘moment’, inviting Meredith back to her home, ‘to explore her tattoo’.
A week later Meredith moved in and now lived there with the woman, who she called Miss Sandy, with respect. A woman who surprisingly gave the younger woman a certain emotional foundation. One never knows with decisions.
The bath she was now preparing was for Miss Sandy, and she was positioned as she was, on her knees, displaying the two rings, as the woman had ordered that. But then, she was always naked in the house any way.
It was the way Miss Sandy liked her to be.
If the slave was worthy, the woman might invite her into the bath and allow her to wash her. “Ah, my girl, is all prepared?” Miss Sandy asked from the doorway.
“Yes, my mistress,” was the reply, as Meredith remained on her knees, arching her back a little more.
Miss Sandy tested the water. “Perfect, dear slave,” she smiled at her young servant, and a wonderful smile then spread across Meredith’s face in response, as the woman took her hand and brought her into the tub.
It was late fall, and a light dusting of snow had fallen the day before. Today, however, the sky was a brilliant and cloudless blue. Aquina put on her sun glasses as she walked across the parking lot toward her car. Opening it she slid in, then looked at the person in the passenger seat.
“So, you going to tell me what you’re up to,” Claire asked, her blonde hair shining with the sunlight?
Aquina paused for a moment, remembering.
(Miami, September 2003)
“But why?” Aquina persisted. Sanders looked tired; there was no joking or banter today.
“Aquina, I’ve thought this through. It’s the way ‘dat makes sense. You need a chance, and ‘dat chance comes if you get an education.”
“I can already read…” she countered.
“I know. I know. And ‘dat’s the incredible part; youse did ‘dat on your own. But now youse needs real school. Real teachers. And I won’t be far away. I’ll always be there, babe. Ya’ know ‘dat, right?”
And so it had been the end for Aquina in Miami, and even though the place had its share of bad memories, it was her birth place, and she had vowed to return
But on her own terms; and now seemed like as good a time as any.
“Well, I’ve spoken with Sanders, about his new Miami project. You know all about it, of course.”
Claire nodded, looking away. Along with her time with Miss Hollins, Claire still went in part-time for Sanders, as he now spent more time out of the city, preparing for the move. “Yes, I know about it; I’ve even seen it,” Claire replied, glancing at her ‘partner’.
“Miss Hollins hasn’t kept you too busy?” Aquina said, a smile on her lips.
Claire sighed, and it was interesting, she considered, that once she would have been happy serving Aquina, or imagined she would have, after their relationship began to change. But the woman had not wanted that (and it had been discussed at length) but it had now become something else, for both. It was too late for consideration now. She was happy that Sanders was flexible, but the job, with him not there, was pretty boring.
And bottom line, while Claire had been surprised at first by how much she enjoyed, and looked forward to, serving Miss Hollins, now it was simply desire.
She wondered that Aquina hadn’t seemed to see how things had progressed; or had, and let it go. But certainly the session last weekend with her mistress should have made it clear how deep the relationship with Hollins had become, even as they carried on, still being together, in a way; but for how much longer?
Aquina looked out her window as well; she and her lover now at a place that seemed…so strange.
Claire turned to look at her. “Yes, I’ve been busy, as you say, with Miss Hollins. But I’ve also done what you’ve asked of me, pretty much,” she murmured, not adding how much she now enjoyed all that was ‘asked of her’. The thought that very soon she would be serving the woman again produced a rush again. It was all so clear; yet this, between her and Aquina, was still confusing.
Aquina nodded. Where to go from here? She had encouraged this from Claire, had watched it develop into something…substantial, and then had even enjoyed her own time with the dominating Miss Hollins (although the two women agreed they were not a pair.)
Aquina fully understood that Claire was now a slave, certainly as much as she herself had been; but not with herself as the mistress.
The blonde woman was now gazing out into the fall sunshine; there was really nothing to deny or discuss and the two of them sat with their own thoughts. “I like being a, um, slave. Yeah I do, I admit that. I’ve admitted that to you and to myself, and you’ve seen it with your own eyes. That is the reality. It’s only complicated because of you, A,” Claire said quietly.
Aquina sat silently after that comment, thinking it was time for the next step. Was she ready? Could she handle where this might go? Well, it had been her idea in the beginning after all.
She took off her shades and turned, then lifted Claire’s face, looking into those gentle grey-blue eyes. She closed her own as she rested her face against the woman’s. “I…don’t know what I’ve done to deserve having you in my life, but I’m amazed with every day we’ve had. And I love having you with me…so,” Aquina sat back so she could look directly at Claire; “…I’d like us to go to Miami, together.”
“Miami?” Claire repeated quietly, processing this, concern on her face. “Why, and why now?” This certainly wasn’t something she wished for.
Aquina considered; she was not really surprised by Claire’s reaction. “Well, it’s my, mmm, home; and Sanders has his project; I mean, he’s already bought another condo. And he’s agreed that you could be his Miami assistant, if you want that, which works. And I will do my thing, whatever that is.”
They sat again in contemplation. “I want you to come with me, Claire.” Aquina said simply, knowing they were approaching a crossroad. “Will you?”
Claire sighed, how to say this? When to say this? It probably should have been said sooner.
“Um, I need you to understand this, A. I like Miss Hollins very, um, very much. And yes, like you said, I like being fucked and all that. I used to feel guilty, because I enjoyed what she does to me, everything, a lot.” She shook her head in wonder. “God, I know it’s crazy.”
She sighed and regarded her hands. “I look forward to being with her, A. So, deal is, I don’t feel guilty any more. I’m not sure about, what you want.” She turned again to look out the window, knowing no answers were there. “Um, I’m like, not sure about this Miami thing either, ‘cuz it’s kind of out of the blue, even if Sanders is involved, and well…” She stopped, her mind a whirl of conflicted emotions.
Their exchange was interrupted by Claire’s cell chiming. She looked at it and smiled, feeling a stab of intense arousal, “It’s Miss Hollins, reminding me to be at her place at one. And, um, she wants you to be there at three, bitch. Her words.” Claire held up her cell so Aquina could see.
The woman nodded, conflicted but excited by the thought of the session and Hollins’s dominance over her; it still filled a need, somewhat. “Well, you’d better reply, Slave; she obviously wants you to herself for a bit.”
The cell chirped again and Aquina regarded her companion. Claire studied the message and then murmured, “She’s invited three of her friends to come; they’ll all be using me, and you, too, maybe,” she said quietly, excited again by the idea of others watching her being used. Why that aroused her, she didn’t know; it just did. Did it really matter anymore?
She also didn’t mention that one of the friends would be Grant, the man Hollins was involved with, although he wouldn’t have anything to do with Aquina.
“Excellent,” Aquina said, reaching over and squeezing Claire’s thigh. She paused, regarding the other, studying the lovely face of her companion.
Then Claire murmured, “It’s past twelve, A, we should get going.”
She didn’t want to be late.
As the ‘Fasten Seat Belt’ sign went off, a flight attendant went forward to check with the passengers in ‘First Class’. Shareen Macgregor ordered a bourbon and looked out her window. This section was not full; quite empty actually, for this flight, and at four and a half hours she liked the sense of space with no one in the seat beside her or in the aisle opposite.
When the attendant, an attractive brunette, mid-twenties, with striking blue eyes, brought her drink, Macgregor made her move. She had read the young woman and felt confident with this, as she lifted her dress revealing her naked pubic area. “I think you need to check back with me later, to see how I’m doing?” she smiled up at the woman. “Unless you want to be punished, Deirdre,” she smiled.
Momentarily flustered, the young woman then glanced around and smiled back and murmured, “Um, thank you, Dr. Macgregor. I, emmm, shall try.” Macgregor chuckled and looked at the young woman who glanced down. Perfect. “Not good enough, bitch, try again.”
The attendant reddened and focused on her shoes, “I will be back, Miss Macgregor,” she murmured. Macgregor reached up to gently caress the pretty face.
“You like being called a bitch, yes?” she asked, softly, and the woman winced, swallowed and slowly nodded her head.
“How…?” she looked up.
“How, Miss Shareen.”
“H-how…Miss Shareen?” The woman, reminding one of a fawn, sighed audibly and looked into Macgregor’s eyes.
The doctor placed two fingers into the woman’s mouth, which she immediately sucked. “I’m very experienced, dealing with dirty little bitches like you. And I will enjoy training you; I know what you need.”
The woman nodded quickly, kissing Macgregor’s hand as the fingers were removed, and then went off, returning in a moment to continue with her checking.
There was a curtain separating this section from the remainder of the plane, affording some privacy, and as the attendant now bent forward to speak with a passenger across and a row up, Macgregor ran her hand up the woman’s leg, who flinched only slightly. Macgregor carried on, gently caressing the thigh before she pressed two fingers against the panty-hose and panties covering the woman’s crotch.
In a moment, the attendant straightened up and turned to get the passenger’s order, but not before flashing a quick smile and then a submissive down-glance at the doctor. Macgregor nodded and settled into her seat, sipping her bourbon; the flight might not be so boring, after all.
And as she sipped she considered; she knew she had made the correct decision; it had been time to leave. Certainly with the way things had ended with Arlana Gervais and her group and all that, it was time to start something new, with her particular set of skills and needs (her husband had accepted the news with a shrug, which wasn’t a surprise. Her current, long-time slave slash house-keeper would join her in a week.)
There were, in fact, four things she felt were in her favor with her decision to leave for Miami.
One, the offer she had received, a partnership in a successful practice; two, the offer from Ms. Belvedere to handle some ‘product’ for her in Florida; three, the fact that she had always wanted to live by the ocean; and four, that Miami had always appealed to her; just the free nature of the place. She’d already heard positive things about the S and M scene, in fact.
The often pudgy, white ‘snowbirds’ that invaded from Canada in the winter months, especially those wearing Speedos, could be off-putting certainly, but then we all have our crosses to bear, Macgregor chuckled to herself.
And the icing on the proverbial cake was that her slave had confided in her the desire to return home, so Aquina would be close (very close, most likely) at hand, as Macgregor had prodded her to make the move and force the issue with Claire.
The series of texts, etcetera, with very interesting photos (and now quite a number of them) she’d been receiving from Aquina the last few weeks convinced her that the woman was close, leaving no doubt that old desires had come back, and Macgregor had played things with patience.
She was glad she had pressed her slave; the uncertain woman needed to embrace her submissiveness completely. Of that she had no doubt. She’d almost let this beauty get away once; she wasn’t planning on letting that happen again. Macgregor smiled as the plane dipped its wing and headed south.
Two hours later she stood in the plane’s lavatory and looked at the photos on her cell as Deirdre sat, naked, on the toilet, legs spread and hands tied with her pantyhose. Her panties were stuffed in her mouth.
“You’re on lay-over in Miami?” Macgregor asked, removing the sodden gag.
“Y-yes, Mistress Shareen, it’s my home base. Um, four days this time.”
Macgregor placed a business card between the puffy labia and undid the panty hose. She had already written the address of her new and upscale condo on the back. “Come to my place tonight instead of the hotel, dirty bitch,” she murmured, with Deirdre looking up and nodding.
Then Macgregor left, considering her life with a grin.
One never knows anything for sure, with decisions (there will always be regrets) but one can improve one’s odds, none-the-less.
Aquina and Claire were in the condo Aquina had found to lease, close to Sanders’s Miami office tower.
The fifteen days they had been here had been…cordial, but with Claire, who had finally but reluctantly agreed to come down, working as much for Sanders as she could; until today. She had even stayed at his place twice, once joining his new personal assistant, an attractive twenty-three-year-old redhead, in a three-some for a night, and performing oral sex on Sanders ‘for old time’s sake’.
When she had come back the next day and shared her encounter with Aquina, in detail, she had decided to finally press her companion about the relationship with Sanders.
“He’s never touched me, babe,” Aquina had murmured, and Claire had been surprised. But then, she considered that Sanders and Aquina had not ‘done anything’ when she was involved with them, either. Sanders had watched Claire and Aquina, and Aquina had watched her and Sanders, but that was it.
“He was kind of like a father, even though I wanted it to be more, early on. But it never was and now it never will be,” Aquina had said.
And Claire and Aquina had had sex only once in the entire fifteen days, and that was only after they had watched a video Hollins had sent them from that last afternoon before they’d left. The video showed Claire being double-penetrated and used as a willing toilet slave by the four women present, followed later by Aquina being punished and used aggressively by the three, as Hollins and Claire lay entwined together on the couch, watching.
Viewing the video had excited them and they had ‘fucked’ as opposed to making love, with Aquina declining again Claire’s requests to be punished. There had been no intimacy since that afternoon, now a week ago.
They had talked, a little, but of nothing of consequence; certainly no talk of any future. Claire had her own questions, but she had kept them to herself, for now, because, despite her relationship with Candace Hollins, Claire still cared for Aquina. And Aquina still cared for her blonde friend.
It was weird, they both acknowledged to themselves.
But today the two lovely women were in fact together, literally, hanging by their wrists from the top of a large, metal-framed slave stand; Candace Hollins had borrowed it from a friend she knew in Miami; she had ‘dom’ friends all over, as Shareen would discover.
The two bound women were facing each other, their nipples also touching, squeezed by clamps; their freshly whipped and sweat-glistened bodies were pressed together and their mouths were sucking in unison.
Hollins, taking a break, sat on a chair and observed these two. She had agreed with and counselled Claire to accept this Miami invitation, after a chat with Macgregor, and was happy to make the trip down to see, and abuse, them both now. And to get some things decided; it was time.
She stood now and came close; taller than either of them in her heels; she kissed one, then the other, and then removed the clips, sucked all four nipples, unhooked Claire and then put her on her knees, before going to her handbag and returning with a collar which read, “I Am Miss Hollins’s Property”, which she handed to the woman. Claire smiled and fastened it around her neck, then looked up into her mistress’s face, waiting.
Hollins then placed a ball-gag into Aquina’s mouth, saying, “You stay, dirty bitch, and listen as I fuck this beautiful woman in all her holes.” She then, slowly, licked Aquina’s face as Claire looked on. She then led Claire into the bedroom and again closed the door, making her point.
Claire immediately lay on her back on the bed and spread her legs, a huge smile on her face. “Enjoy the whipping?” Hollins asked, smiling down and removing her shoes, which was all she had on, apart from her harness and dildo. She took her time, teasing her slave.
Claire spread her legs farther, “I love everything you do to me, Mistress; you know that,” she murmured, wanting the woman to touch her.
“I see you’re still shaved,” Hollins smiled, running her hand over Claire’s sex, squeezing the labia, pulling on the fleshy, pink folds, causing the woman to moan.
“Mmmm, ohhh, mmm, fuck. Yes Mistress, I keep it the way you want it always. It, um, belongs to you, after all,” Claire stated, her heart beating, wondering if the woman wanted her to beg.
Hollins laughed softly and lay between the tanned thighs, and the two kissed tenderly, then deeply. “So, did you miss me, Slave?” Hollins then asked, with a wink and a smirk.
Claire looked up wide-eyed and grinned, “Oh God, do you need to ask? I really have, Mistress, really, really…” she said quickly, her heart beating. “I can’t explain.”
Hollins sighed; this was such a beautiful woman and such a perfect slave. It was time to make it real, settle things as she wanted them; she’d been patient. “What do you want now, my pussy girl?”
Claire did not hesitate. “I want you to fuck me, I really do. Please,” she gently kissed the woman’s throat, rubbing herself against the dildo.
(End of Chapter 29)