Foreign Exchange (The Concubine Chronicles Book 1) (4 page)

Her hand moved down to Liera's pussy, and she bucked at the touch, hoping for just a little pressure.  The chains, the stand, everything that had happened until then.  Liera knew that she'd be in trouble if she came, but she was past that point.

"And that is where you should be, piglet!" said Jalah.  Her hand dropped lower, to Liera's thighs, and then she showed it to Liera; there were lines of creamy moisture between every finger.  "Precisely as ready as you need to be."

And then the door opened, and the Krin of Krin walked in. He wasn't in any particular hurry; he gave his stick and coat to a servant, nodded a greeting to his wife, who was standing at Liera's right, her arm over Liera's shoulder, her hand toying with Liera's breast, pulling at the clamp, at the ruby.

"How was your day?" she asked, as the Krin came up to them.

"It was well," he said. "There warehouses over in Aliut?  They have been rented again, and at a higher rate.  And with you?"

"It was well," said Jalah.  "The buckle is complete, and I have made some progress in planning our gift."

Liera barely heard any of it.  Her eyes were on the Krin's crotch, watching his hands untying his belt, and then the trouser string.  Boys weren't her favorite; since she'd met Maash, she'd only been with one boy, who Maash had wanted to cheer up.  But she needed something, anything, and she was there for his use.

When the length of his cock was free of the cream-colored silk of his trousers, Liera lunged as far forward as her chains would let her, mouth open, hands reaching for him.  The Krin did not look down at her, did not stop talking to his wife.  But at last his cock was in her mouth.  Boys weren't her favorite, but she took his whole length, and then licked further, tasting the hair and sweat at the base of his cock.  One of his hands rested on her head, and then tightened as he began to thrust, slow and deep.

He still didn't stop talking to Jalah:  there was a festival coming up, and they had to consider who to invite to their celebration, the harvest looked to be a good one, which meant that they should consider selling some agricultural land—not the ancestral holdings, of course, but some of the more recently acquired farms.

Jalah kept touching her, running her hand up and down Liera's side, gentle touches on her breast, flicking at the ruby there, gentle touches on her hip.  Whenever she got close to Liera's pussy, Liera bucked and ground, trying to get something, some little bit more.  The conversation didn't stop, but it became just noises—deep male noises and light female answers.  She was lost; there was nothing but her own body, aching, moving, and Jalah's hand, and the cock in her mouth.

"Steady now, piglet," said Jalah in her ear.  "If you bite, you will deeply regret it."

Then the clip came off.

It hurt more than anything that Jalah had done to her; more than the beating, more than the ginger, more than the pepper.  Liera screamed into the Krin's cock, and he thrust more deeply, down into her spasming throat.  But then Jalah's hand was on her cunt, and then her asshole, working something in there, and there was the cock in her mouth; she moaned and sucked; it hurt so much, but she was past the point where that mattered; it was all sensation.

Then the Krin pulled out of her mouth, and she made a hungry breathy sound, disappointed, reaching with mouth and hands for what had been taken from her.

The Krin's hand moved along her side, down toward her hips, Jalah's moved up on the other side, towards her face, and then something pressed up against her ass.  Liera thrust back, as hard as the chains allowed.  If she hadn't been chained . . . if she was unchained, she would've been harder to manage; this way, the Krin was able to take exactly what he wanted.  It was better this way.

The conversation hadn't stopped.  Male voice and female voice, but it didn't matter to her; that wasn't what she was for.  The Krin rested the length of his cock along her ass; she could feel her saliva there, the thick stuff from the back of her mouth, dripping down between her legs.  Then he pulled back, and pushed in; Liera groaned; it was too wide, it was too long, it was right.

"Eyes open," said Jalah.  "Smile."

She laughed at the face that Liera pulled.  "Oh, of course.  Well, perhaps you can look like a person some other time."

A hard pinch on her sore nipple; that got through the fog of everything else, and then Jalah's hand on Liera's cunt, strong, knowing.

"Please lady?" said Liera.  "Pleaseohplease?"

"Wait," said Jalah, sternly.  The Krin was deep in her, his hands on her hips.  He was still talking, Jalah was still responding.

"Pleaseohpleaseohplease," said Liera, but nobody was listening to her.  "Please lord?  Please lady?"

She was holding back as best she could, but the Krin's movement was moving her hips, and Jalah's hand was there, pushing back against her, strong, wet with Liera's juices.

"Please," said Liera.

"Very well," said Jalah, with a twist on the other nipple.  "Now, piglet."

It was what she needed to hear.  Liera fell apart.

She could hear the blood pounding in her ears as she clenched and opened around Jalah's hand and her husband's cock; her whole body was shaking, only held in place by the chains and the stand, by the Krin's hands on her hips, and Jalah's under her shoulders.

Just as it was dying down, there was a groan from behind her, and the Krin's hands clenched with a sudden urgency.  Jalah's fingers were busy on her pussy again, demanding, and Liera had learned not to deny Jalah's demands.  She broke again.  Not as hard, but she had nothing left.

When it was done, the Krin was done, and Jalah let her collapse down onto her stand.

The Krin patted her ass, twice.  "Very good work.  You have a gift for this, Jalah; I have never been dissatisfied with girls you have prepared."

"Thank you," said Jalah.

She pinched Liera on her extremely sensitive nipple.  "You say, 'Thank you, lord, for your attentions,'" she said.

"Thank you, lord, for your attentions," said Liera.

The Krin ruffled her hair.  "A lovely girl," he said.

Jalah clipped a lead to her heavy iron collar, and let Liera down from the stand.  She collapsed bonelessly to the floor.

"You must be sure to give Maash a fine gift in return," said the Krin.  "Will she be entertaining us at dinner?"

"Oh, I don't think this piglet has any useful skills," said Jalah.  "And we have neither asked nor received permission for her to demonstrate her real talents.  But I perhaps I will find a way for her to entertain, regardless."

He leaned forward, and kissed her on her forehead.  "I am sure you shall.  You never disappoint."  Jalah turned her head to the side, a faint blush on her cheek.

"I shall be in the office until then," he said,  "Or perhaps in the garden; it is a fine day."

"Of course," said Jalah, and watched him leave.

"Please, lady," said Liera, weakly.

"Yes, very well," said Jalah.  "You may lick my foot.  But very lightly!  I do not wish to be slobbered upon."

That was more or less what Liera had intended to ask for.  She licked Jalah's foot as lightly as she could manage, her tongue just touching the skin.  She tasted the dust of the street there, and Jalah's sweat.

"Very charming," said Jalah.  She knelt, scratched Liera behind her ear.  "Your Maash will be here for breakfast tomorrow, you know?  She has sent a note.  Perhaps it is to talk about a commission, as she indicated, or perhaps it is to be certain you are adjusting well.  Silly girl!  But I suppose it is to be expected."

Maash?  It was strange.  The whole thing had been Maash's idea, but when she heard that she was coming, Liera felt strange about how Jalah's hands had turned her to putty, how anxious she had been to take the Krin's cock, how hard she'd come, how much she wanted him back up her ass.  And also . . . she'd done this sort of thing for Maash, when she wanted to play those games, but not so seriously.  The idea of Maash seeing her like this, with chains and jewels, and utterly controlled by Jalah was deeply humiliating, but also, despite feeling like a wrung-out rag, deeply arousing.

Jalah clapped her hands.  "Oh, how charming.  That girl must take you properly in hand; you will be such an ornament for her."

Liera leaned against Jalah's side; her legs and arms were still shaky.

"Yes, piglet, yes.  You have run a good race, and now you are tired.  Very well; let us find you a pen for you to nap in.  I would have you fresh, when it is time for you to entertain at our dinner."

Jalah left the entrance hall, and Liera crawled behind, wobbling a little.  She wasn't at all sure what was planned for dinner, but for the moment, she barely had the strength to stay balanced on all fours.

Jalah led her into a room with the lights off, and up into a cage that was on a low side table.  The manacle on Liera's right arm was chained to the bars of her cage, as were her feet, stretching her out on her side.  Then Jalah tucked a pillow underneath her head, patted her cheek lightly, and locked the cage.

"Thank you, lady," said Liera, sleepily.

"Such charming manners!" said Jalah.  "It seems that serving as a receptacle has an improving effect on your character."

Jalah turned to leave, and Liera watched her.  It was strange that she was taller than Jalah.  This was the right way to see her, from further down and through the bars of a cage.  She was so lovely, straight back and hips swaying.

"Oh!" said Jalah.  "I had almost forgotten!"  She came back around, a small silver bell in her hand.

She reached through the bars, and patted Liera's cheek again.  "You will rest soon.  But when you hear this bell, yes?" She rang it, and tinkled. "You shall finger yourself.  And if you hear it a second time, you shall stop.  And so on.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, lady," said Liera.  "Thank you, lady."

"Let us see," said Jalah.  She rang the bell.

Liera's right hand moved, was stopped by the manacle and chain.  She shifted her left hand, started to rub.  She was tired, and sore, but Jalah wanted her to do something, so she would do it.  Then the bell rang again, and she stopped gratefully.

"And thus the asymmetry," said Jalah, and tsked.  "Unless you are specifically told otherwise, piglet, you are to use your left hand for that purpose, from now on."

"Yes, lady, thank you, lady."

"And you must not reach the point of orgasm, unless you have been given permission."

"Yes, lady, thank you, lady."

Another ring of the bell, and Liera started again.  Another view of Jalah from behind, walking across the room, Liera's mind fogged with lust and exhaustion.  Just before she left, Jalah rang the bell again, and despite the chains around her chest, and the cold metal of the floor of the cage, Liera was asleep a few breaths afterward, on her side, head on her pillow.

#

She didn't wake up, exactly.  It was more that as she was sleeping, there were sounds around her; conversation, the clink of silver on china, quiet laughter and the sound of flute and string.

Then a bell tinkled, and Liera's left hand went down between her legs.

"There, you see?" said Jalah.  "As I said, so responsive, and so easily trainable!"

Liera was awake.  The room wasn't dark any more.  There was a long table there, and Jalah was there, and the Krin, and the servants, and about a thousand other people, who were laughing at Jalah's remark.

There were men and women with landowner's caps, priests and priestesses in their robes (though none from the more ascetic orders), and various others with less easily defined uniforms.  There was a tall, blonde woman sitting next to one of the men wearing a landowner's cap who was almost certainly Ossian.  She smiled at Liera when she caught her look, and there was something knowing there that made Liera flush and look away.

To see Nari, who was one of Maash's friends, and who she knew in school, and who looked like he was about to burst out laughing!  It was . . . it was utterly, utterly mortifying, but the bell hadn't rung again, so she had to keep touching herself.

Liera buried her face in her pillow.

"Tsk, piglet," said Jalah.  She rang the bell, and Liera's fingers stopped moving along her pussy lips.  "If you misuse your presents, you do not get to keep them.  Pass it through the bars."

The problem was that her right hand was held in place, so she had to pass the pillow through with her left hand, which was pretty well soaked, and everyone saw; if they didn't see it on her fingers, there were big wet stains on the pillow when she passed it back to Jalah.  There were murmurs at that, and some laughs; Liera knew that she was red as beet, head to toe, which drew more laughs.

"And such lovely colors," said Jalah, and she rang the bell again.  "Do not hide from the guests, piglet—you are here for their amusement.  Perform for them."

It wasn't easy, but it also was.  Mostly, they were ignoring her.  Nari wasn't—he was just delighted to see her, and whenever she looked in that direction, he was watching her, eyes dancing with mischief.  The Ossian woman was also watching, but less . . . she wasn't amused like Nari was amused—there was an edge to her smile, something delighted, but also cruel. Did that woman know her?  Know her family?  It didn't bear thinking about.