Pam-Ann (13 page)

Drake withdrew his finger. She
had been through
more than
enough for now.
He washed his hands again. Ann lifted her head from the couch. She
was breathing fast. “Better?” he asked, and she gave a short nod
but did not look up. He held a pill and a glass of water under her
nose.

“What is it?” she asked
suspiciously.

“It’ll help you get some rest.
I’ll excuse you the rest of your shift but you’ll have to be ready
for the next one. Do you always question everything?” He smiled to
show he was not annoyed, and she took the pill from his hand and
swallowed it.

“Persephone Peake gave me Venus
Dust.”

He shook his head. “I thought I
knew most of them but I’ve never heard of that. What does it
do?”

“It’s a… a… stimulant.” Ann
blushed and looked as though she wished she had kept silent. She
still lay with her bottom towards him, looking back over her
shoulder. Her knees were drawn up, displaying not only the rounded
curves of her buttocks but also the pouting crescents of her
pussy-lips, peeping from between her closed thighs. Drake eyed them
and allowed a thin smile to form on his lips. The nipple he could
see was dark and erect. She shivered.

“I guess Miss Peake came as a
shock,” he said, more to distract himself from the
pulsing o
f the cock in his pants than for any other
reason. “She is to most people the first time.”

“We don’t have anyone like her
where I come from. At least no one who is so flagrant about their
cruelty,” Ann said.

“That’s not what will get her in
trouble. She’s asking for a big fine and a public flogging by
flaunting her Sapphism. She’s come close twice already and only her
money and her lawyers saved her. I’d bet the judge would sentence
her to the full hundred lashes, and probably enslavement too. Her
flirting and pouting wouldn’t do her much good then.”

The girl gave him an earnest
look. “Please, will you tell me what That Kind means? I… I think I
have a pretty good idea but I need someone to spell it out. I swear
I don’t know. Where I come from we don’t have anything like….” She
faltered under his level gaze.

“How can you possibly not know?”
he asked, yet her appeal seemed heartfelt and genuine. Drake gave
her another smile. “Okay, let’s pretend you’ve lived alone on a
mountain top since you were born. Some girls are attracted by the
idea of slavery. They’re fascinated by the idea of being owned, or
of no longer belonging to themselves, if you like, and of always
being subject to another person’s will.” A flicker of some
unknowable emotion crossed her face but she showed no sign of
recognition, as if she was not wholly aware that he was talking
about what she was. “Sooner or later it becomes an obsession. There
are places they can go and pay to experience it, but that’s not
always enough. Some end by wanting to be real slaves. There are
plenty of laws they can break that might get them enslaved, but
there’s a risk they could just get a fine and a public flogging
instead.” He fixed his gaze on Ann’s wide blue eyes. “The one
certain way to end up as a slave is to stow away on a ship or an
airship. I’m sure you know international law makes the penalty
automatic, and the shipping lines don’t make it difficult. It’s a
cheap way to get labour. The scientists say the girls have Slavery
Obsessive Syndrome, or SOS. Most people call them That Kind. They
don’t think they’re crazy, just crazy for pain and sex and
servitude.”

Drake glanced down at her
out-thrust bottom. “Their pussies are usually dripping when they’re
caught. They can’t wait for the discipline to begin. Half of them
are coming by the time they’re put on display and many do it when
they’re flogged, and not just once either. They would get excited
talking about it like this.” He raised an eyebrow. “But you’re not,
are you?”

She did not flinch when he
smoothed his fingertips over the warm, fleshy swells of her
pussy-lips
. They were damp, but far from dripping.
Ann was still shocked from Brinley’s violation, of course, but
Drake had seen other stowaways breathless with excitement after
experiencing similar things. She was nowhere near that level of
arousal. Her eyelids looked heavy and she seemed too languid to
draw away from
the pressure of his finger and thumb as they
parted her
sex. He examined her inner petals and
the fleshy little cowl that concealed her clitoris, discovering the
bud beginning to emerge amidst its folds. She may not be dripping
but she was becoming more aroused, and it was his touch that was
causing it. The knowledge gave him a thrill of excitement as he
ran
one forefinger gently along the smooth-skinned edges of
her outer lips.

“Please don’t. I’m really not
one of That Kind,” she said drowsily, and her eyelids drooped and
closed the moment the words left her mouth.

“I think I’m beginning to
believe that,” Drake said, but he knew she could not hear him.

* * * * *

“Get stripped,” Persephone Peak
ordered curtly, and Pam and Daisy let their loincloths fall to the
floor of her stateroom. She slid the strap of her evening gown from
her shoulder, wriggled her hips until the garment formed a silken
pool at her feet and she stood naked but for her diamond necklace
and nipple clip. “So you two lovebirds would rather waste your time
in pussy-talk with each other than in serving me?” She scowled,
eyes flashing with menace.

Pam’s belly shrank. Persephone
playfully cruel was bad enough. How much worse would she be in the
vindictive mood that had come over her? Pam was sure she had
responded to her summons immediately. She had been standing near
the bar in the saloon, listening to Daisy tell her how surprised
the slaves had been when Drake had personally carried her into
their quarters, laid her sleeping figure on her bunk and told
Christine not to disturb her until her next shift was due. When the
sting of the overseer’s cane had awoken Pam, a lot of the girls had
been looking at her with envy or outright jealousy. They all seemed
to want Drake. They were welcome to him. He was nothing but another
overbearing male.

He had been kind though, to give
her the salve. Its effect had been swift and soothing, though his
method of application had alarmed her. Even in her wildest
masturbation fantasies, Pam could never have imagined that her
flight from Heathrow would end in her lying on a leather couch
aboard a steam-powered airship, with a handsome man she barely knew
sliding his forefinger up and down in her rear entrance. Handsome?
Where the hell had that come from?

Pam diverted her thoughts to
what he had said about the girls who stowed away and how eagerly
they wanted to submit. Her belly fluttered. She had felt that way
with Rick. But that had been personal, because she had thought she
loved him, not because of a crazy longing. Drake had confirmed her
worst fears. Everyone thought she was a BDSM junkie.
And then he had stroked her pussy. At that point Pam
had been sure he meant to take her, and been strangely untroubled
by the knowledge, even as she had made her meek protest. A sharp
sting to her right buttock ended any chance of pursuing the
troubling thought.

Persephone flexed the willow
switch that had suddenly appeared in her hand. “You told me you’re
not attracted to girls and you’ve already found yourself a little
lover-bitch.”

“No, Mistress,” Pam said
emphatically. The willow stung her left buttock.

“Shut up.” Persephone walked
around them, took up a position in front and flexed the slim switch
between her hands again. “You were so interested in one another
that you neglected your duty to
me
. I’m the one you’re here
to please, not yourselves.”

Pam lowered her gaze and saw the
blonde’s pinkly gleaming clitoris swelling from its hood.

“Head up,” Persephone snapped,
with a flick of the rod to Pam’s abdomen and another to Daisy’s.
“What’s your name?” she asked the English girl.

“Daisy, Mistress.”

“You’ve got nice big tits,
Daisy.” She lashed the willow in an upward, curving stroke that
struck the girl’s jutting left
breast a fraction
below its pointed nipple.

“Ow!” Daisy
clasped both hands to her hurt, rubbing
the scarlet line the
rod had carved across her pale skin.

“Still! Hands by your sides.”
The moment the girl obeyed, Persephone raised the switch, holding
it high for long seconds while her all-too-familiar feline smile
bared her pointed eyeteeth. Daisy stiffened, fists clenching as she
awaited the blow. The blonde mistress laughed and lowered her arm
without striking. “Daisy, eh?” Moving closer until her rounded
little breasts met the slave’s pointed nipples, she took a long
sniff. “You don’t smell like a flower to me. You smell like a
pussy. Are you hot for this one?”
She shot out a
hand, slapping the outer swell of Pam’s left breast so there could
be no doubt Daisy knew who she was talking about.

“No, Mistress.” Daisy winced but
did not pull away as the blonde slid a hand between her thighs.

“Your pussy’s wet and your
clit’s half-upright.”

“I’m always like that, Mistress.
I’m meant to be.”
Her giggle was a mixture of
amusement and nervousness. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”
She gave a soft grunt as Persephone’s fingers pushed deeper between
her legs. Little beads of sweat appeared on her brow.

“Why have you got pussy hair
when this one hasn’t?”

“Half of us do and half don’t. I
don’t know why, Mistress.”

The blonde withdrew her fingers
and held them under her nose, nostrils dilating as she inhaled
deeply. “Mm! I can’t think why I haven’t noticed you before,
darling. Those narrow hips and big titties make you a bit
top-heavy, but they’re a marvellous shape, and you have a cute
little bottom too. I think I’ll call you Pussy.”

The slave girl’s nervousness
visibly increased.

“I suppose you like fucking,
Pussy.” Persephone giggled. “Oh, that’s a double meaning isn’t it?
I like fucking pussy. And Ann does too, with a little
encouragement, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Pam said
grudgingly.

“Is that a frown?” Persephone
demanded, and all trace of humour vanished as she jammed the willow
rod up between Pam’s thighs hard enough to separate her outer
labia. “Smile when you speak to me or I’ll whip your tits raw.”

Pam forced a parody of a smile
to her face. Her tormentor sawed the switch back and forth over her
tender sex-lips. It bent under the pressure.

Persephone cast it aside. “Too
much give. Tania, get me something stiffer. The hazel. Milly, two
dildos, eight inches.”

Pam’s gut twisted. Beside her
Daisy shuddered. Persephone took a backward step and looked into
each of their faces in turn. “I hear you both took a bumming from
Brinley. That’s an ass-fucking to you, Ann.” Her light laughter
tinkled. “He’s a rough boy from what I hear. Did you enjoy it?”

Both girls denied taking any
pleasure from what they had experienced at Brinley’s hands. Milly
appeared, clutching a shiny, black and well-oiled phallus in each
hand.

Persephone giggled. “Let’s see
if those cheeky bum-holes like rubber any better than cock. Wait!
My clitty is sticking out and Pussy’s clitty is sticking out, but
there’s no sign of yours, Ann. Oh, but you haven’t had your Venus
Dust yet.” She giggled again.

Once more forced to swallow the
fizzing, peppery powder, Pam was half-glad she would have its
aphrodisiac effect to help her face the ordeal she was certain was
to come. She worried about how long the drug seemed to last,
however, and if there might be long-term consequences. A tickle ran
through her sheath and her nipples stiffened and began to
pulse.

“Bend over, hands on your bum
cheeks,” Persephone ordered, “and I want them spread good and wide,
or there’ll be trouble. And slacken those arseholes. Ooh, yours is
bright pink, Ann! Does it still hurt from nasty old Brinley’s fat
prick?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Pam answered,
cringing inwardly in humiliation. The worst of the pain had not
returned after she had awoken but her sphincter still nipped quite
distressingly, especially when she walked. It nipped a lot more
when the hard, rounded head of the rubber penis pushed against it
and the oiled shaft sank into her rectum. The welts on her bottom
buzzed beneath her palms as she held her rear cheeks wide and
allowed Persephone to slide the full length of the dildo into her
until her rear pucker gripped nothing but the
blonde’s finger
. Not having been told to straighten,
Pam stayed in position while the wicked blonde forced the second
dildo into Daisy’s rear with a single, swift thrust. The slave gave
a grunt and a long hiss.

Persephone chuckled. “I knew you
could take it in one, Pussy. You’ve done it a lot, haven’t you? And
with girls too, I think.”

“No, Mistress. That’s not
permitted. Sapphism is....”

“What I like best,” Persephone
snapped. “Come on, we all know what really goes on in the slave
quarters. When you’re not playing with yourselves, you’re playing
with each other. It’s only natural.”

Still bent over, Daisy shook her
head. “No, Mistress.”

“Don’t treat me like a fool.
You’ve already tried that once today,
ignoring me
in the saloon,
and see where it’s got you.”

“Sorry, Mistress,” the slave
girl said quickly.

“You will be.” Persephone’s
feline smile became tigerish. “Kneel down and kiss my pussy,
Pussy.”

Daisy sank to her knees and
pressed her lips to the
blonde mistress’s
narrow slit.

“On the floor on your back,
Ann,” Persephone ordered, and when she had obeyed, “Pussy, get on
top of her.” She casually slashed the stiff hazel rod Tania had
handed her across the big-breasted girl’s buttocks. “Silly girl!
The other way. You can’t lick her pussy like that.”