Pam-Ann (27 page)

“Do as I say,” the blonde
snapped, then raised a conciliatory hand. “Go along, darling. I
want a quiet word with Ann for an hour or so. We’ll be quite
safe.”

Bound with her back to the
cabin’s whipping post, her wrists secured above her head and her
ankles held apart by a two-foot spreader bar, Pam was sure
Persephone had more in mind than mere words. Her nipples were
stinging and throbbing beneath the spring-loaded nipple clamps the
blonde had attached to them moments before dismissing Eve. Pulse
racing she watched the door close on the bodyguard and slaves and
the slim girl slide the silk sheath of her evening gown down her
body and step out of it. She wore nothing beneath. Removing her
nipple clip, Persephone took a leather strap from the whip rack and
came closer. Dry-mouthed, Pam saw her swing it casually in her
right hand. It was split into two tails, each doubled back on
itself and heavily stitched, making the last few inches thicker and
heavier than the rest of its eighteen-inch length.

“Thirty-nine degrees North,
twenty-five degrees West,” Persephone said into
the nerve-racking silence.

Pam looked from the strap to the
blonde’s face. “What?”

“That’s where you told me it
happened, isn’t it? Are you sure the numbers are right?”

Of course she was. How could she
forget? But Pam saw no reason why Persephone would care. “I don’t
understand.”

The blonde flicked the
three-inch width of the strap up between Pam’s parted legs. She
jerked hard against her bonds and gave a strangled cry as pain
flared through her nether lips.

“It’s a simple question.”
Persephone smacked the leather harder onto Pam’s pussy. “I want to
be sure I’ve got the right answer.”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right.” Pam
squirmed as the fleshy swells of her labia scorched and vibrated
under the strap’s sharp bite.

“That’s all the pilot said?” the
blonde demanded. “Just degrees? No minutes or seconds?” Her feline
smile played over her lips as Pam stared in surprise. “Yes, Pamela
darling, I’ve been talking to Traske again.” More pain raked the
defenceless pout of Pam’s sex as Persephone lashed the strap
upwards a third time. “Well, did the pilot say any more?”

“No, that’s the position he
gave. God, I would have answered you without you hurting me.”

“But I
like
hurting you,
darling.”
Persephone
moved closer, stroked
her fingertips up the lower curve of Pam’s right breast, and then
down again, scraping her manicured nails over the sensitive skin.
Pam’s hiss through her clenched teeth became a whimper as
Persephone tightened the little screws on each nipple clamp until
they were biting hard. She rested the weight of her hand on the
thin chain that joined them, stretching the tender points and
heightening their wicked burning.

“You have lovely tits, and I so
love watching them bounce and turn red when they’re whipped.” She
bent her head and bit down on the half-erect point of Pam’s right
nipple peeping out from between its clamp.

“Ow! Ooh!” Pam wriggled
frantically as Persephone sank her teeth into her flesh and
stretched the fullness of her tit upwards and outwards. “God,
please! Ooh!” She wanted to cry ‘red’ but it would do her no good
here.

Persephone released the
throbbing point and the breast jounced back into place. Gasping,
Pam looked at her hotly aching nipple, its base pinched cruelly
between the jaws of the clamp and its exposed peak redly swollen
and tooth-marked. The blonde giggled and flicked an unexpected and
fiercely stinging blow to Pam’s pussy. She cried out, and cried
once more when fingers probed between her smarting
sex-lips
. Far more quickly than she could have
imagined, it began to tingle and grow warm.

“You really
have the naughtiest pussy.” Persephone giggled again. “Here I am
punishing it and all it’s doing is getting all damp and squishy.”
She thrust her fingers more forcefully. Pam clenched her teeth but
her tender tissues were rippling as well as smarting. Despite her
determination to resist, arousal mingled with her pain. “I think
you enjoy
this a lot more than you pretend, darling,”
Persephone said huskily,
giggling as she
tugged on the chain to stretch Pam’s pulsing nipples. “Maybe almost
as much as I do.”

“It’s….” Pam made a sound
between pain and pleasure. “It’s not me. It’s that damned drug you
keep giving me.”

The slender blonde’s giggles
turned to laughter. “Oh, that! Yes, I forgot the Venus Dust. I’ll
tell you about it some day.” She stepped back and lashed the strap
between Pam’s thighs. Surprised by the suddenness of the blow the
American girl shrieked, then writhed ineffectually against her
bonds as two strokes in quick succession seared her, immediately
followed by another that cracked more loudly and blazed in even
greater torment on the delicate crescents between her legs. Every
joint was aching by the time Persephone had dealt her three more
blows and Pam’s frantic struggles had subsided. Her sex smarted
horribly and the points of her breasts ached and felt numb at the
same time.

“I’m good at this, aren’t I?”
The blonde grinned, eyes flashing. “Of course, I’ve had plenty of
practice. But that’s enough pussy whipping. With any luck this
might be our last time together and I want to give you the eight
inch strap-on, so we don’t want you too swollen, do we?” She hefted
the leather strap. “But first I’m going to make your delicious tits
bounce, darling.”

The leather cracked and thudded,
and Pam’s breasts did bounce as they yielded beneath the vicious
impacts. They stung savagely too, with the chain swinging back and
forth at every blow, tugging cruelly on her
tortured nipples as she cried and fought uselessly to avoid
Persephone’s biting strokes. The blonde mistress constantly
changed the angle of her blows, one moment striking down onto the
jutting mounds, the next upwards into the tender softness of their
undersides or directly against their out-thrust
fullness. Wherever they landed it was torment, the leather curling
viciously round the swells of Pam’s tits and its thickened
tips
scoring deep.

Amidst the pain came jumbled
memories: images of Rick cuffing her wrists and chaining them to
her collar, of being bent over for the painful and exhilarating
smack of his belt across her buttocks, of Rafael wielding the rod
in the chief engineer’s office and laying the cane hard across
Persephone’s bottom
, and his hardness filling her
while he lay between her red-ridged thighs, as she wriggled her
wealed buttocks into the mattress. Pam surfaced suddenly
,
sucking in a long, shuddering breath. Agony exploded in her left
nipple and then in her right as Persephone’s final blows brought
the twin tips of the strap expertly down upon them. The leather’s
impact tore the blunt jaws clamped tightly to her
left
nipple from the half-hard point but it took an
extra stroke to the right one to free the biting metal and make
clamps and chain fall to the carpet at her feet. Pam made
strangling noises and squirmed frenziedly as lights flashed in her
head.

The crack of leather stopped but
the pain it had caused continued. Pam did not see Persephone strap
on the dildo.
Only when the blonde pinched her
throbbing nipples as the blinding torment of returning circulation
began, did she manage to force her tightly closed eyes open.
Persephone ran a hand down Pam’s sweat-run belly to her
sex
.

“That was fun,” she said
breathlessly. “Let’s see how much you enjoyed it.” She slid a
finger under Pam’s hood. Tickling excitement ran through her. In
seconds her bud swelled. Persephone laughed. “Oh, you’re a naughty
girl. You love it, don’t you? I can feel the heat from your tits.
They must be on fire and I’ll bet your pussy’s burning too. Yet you
want my cock more than anything, don’t you, darling?” She rubbed
faster.

Longing for her
rigid control to return, instead Pam despaired, wriggled and thrust
her hips forwards as if it was Rafael’s fingers that were teasing
her rippling sex. “Yes. Oh, yes!” Her pussy pulsed almost as
painfully as the points of her breasts as Persephone positioned the
thick head of the phallus against it, arched her back and looked
down
at the hard rubber rising from her groin. “I love
watching it slide in. It makes me feel so powerful.” She did it
slowly, and every fraction of an inch of Pam’s sheath shimmered as
the dildo slid over its quivering membranes. Where the hell was the
self-control she had gone to such lengths to develop? Persephone
jerked her hips and the question was unimportant.

Their bellies met, warm and
slick with sweat, then their breasts, and Pam’s torment flared
brighter. The pleasure flared too. Her sex-lips throbbed, her
nipples and
blazing breasts were
utter
torture, and the blonde’s thrusts were driving her sore buttocks
against the whipping post. But the hard dildo was striking sparks
on the walls of her pussy that were making her head spin and her
whole body tremble. Pain and pleasure melded. Torment was also
delight. Pam strained against her straps, crushing her breasts
harder against Persephone’s and squirming as much as she could.

“Oh, I can feel your hard clitty
rubbing mine,” the mistress said huskily into Pam’s ear. The
American girl only gasped and moved her hips faster. She could feel
it too. It was wonderful.

Neither spoke for several
minutes. Everything they felt was better expressed with breathy
sighs and moans and whimpers, and Pam’s gasping and groaning as
pain or pleasure momentarily gained the upper hand in her
passion-fogged mind. But the truth she could not escape was that
even the throb and burn and ache of her flesh was pleasure for as
long as Persephone was pressing against her and driving the
marvellous phallus into her pulsating pussy. Her juices flowed
around the hard rubber, drenching her thighs, their aroma mingling
with the sweat running down both girls’ bodies into a piquant
perfume that filled the air around them.

Persephone
suddenly bucking and thrusting even more wildly
announced she was coming. The increased friction and the grinding
of her clitoris on Pam’s sent the American girl over the edge too.
She squirmed, tugging hard at her wrist straps, fists clenching and
unclenching in time with the spasms of a stunning climax that made
her knees buckle and her toes curl.

The blonde clung to Pam for
several minutes after their breathing had steadied, and even when
she let go the American girl’s sex continued to ripple and the
stars had not yet stopped exploding in her head. Her shoulders
ached. The phallus slipped out with a sloppy sound as Persephone
tottered backwards, her small breasts rapidly rising and
falling.

“Oh, my! I thought Milly and
Tania were good but you are absolutely incredible. I don’t suppose
you’d like to continue as my slave when we get back?”

Pam looked at her groggily. The
pain had not yet returned to being simply pain.

Persephone pouted. “No? Well, I
have been rather hard on you, but you invite it, you know. You try
to hide your submissiveness but it’s still obvious to
everyone.”

“No it’s not,” Pam denied. “I’m
not like that at all.”

Her tormentor laughed as she
took off the strap-on and ran her tongue along its wetly glistening
length. “Mmm, delicious! You’re not fooling anyone, not even
yourself. You might get away with it where we come from but it
won’t work in this world. Lucky for us neither of us will be here
much longer. You do want to go back, I assume?”

“Back!” Pam’s
belly gave a huge flip and the question of whether she was deluding
herself about her desires was instantly forgotten. She
had
thought the blonde had been talking about returning to London but….
Shocked disbelief swamped her thoughts.

Persephone tossed the dildo onto
the bed, removed the spreader bar from Pam’s ankles and began
unfastening the straps on her wrists. Her
pussy no
longer pulsed with passion, only with pain,
as she eased her
legs carefully together.

“December nineteen eighty-one
was when it happened to me,” the blonde said. “One minute I was on
the jet on my first business trip to New York, then I was choking
in darkness and then I was on an airship. I was luckier than you. I
was a rich girl, not a stowaway.”

Pam’s mouth had fallen open and
refused to close. Persephone finished freeing her wrists. The blaze
of her breasts and throb of her nipples intensified as she lowered
her arms. She punched the blonde girl hard in her belly. Air
whooshed out of Persephone as she doubled up. Pam grabbed her
throat with half-numbed hands and forced her to the floor.

“You fucking bitch!” she said,
with a snarl on her lips. “You knew I was telling the truth. You
could have helped me but you....” She stopped abruptly.
Persephone’s eyes were wide and her face was bright red. “Oh, my
God!” Pam let go, aghast. The blonde’s upright little breasts
heaved as she sucked in a wheezing breath and then many more. A
minute passed without a word spoken.

“You can get us home?” Pam asked
finally.

Rubbing her
neck, Persephone struggled upright, cleared her throat and
grimaced. “That’s why I’m paying Traske an obscene amount of money
to take us miles off course, and that’s why I needed to be sure
we’re going to the right place,” she said hoarsely.

Pam asked the obvious question.
“But you’ve got everything you could ever want here. Why?”

“You know why.” Persephone’s
lips twisted. “You saw me with Rafael, and even my own slave girls
and those cops in the street. I know what I’m giving up, but I
don’t have a choice.” She began to cry.