Pam-Ann (5 page)

Pam lowered her gaze with her
cheeks flaming. She too had caught the scent of feminine musk that
clung in the air around her. Her sex and inner thighs were damp
from the startling effects of Drake’s brief exploration. She heard
him clear his throat.

“Excuse me, Miss Peake, I have
duties to perform. With your permission, Commodore.”

“But I’d like to talk to her.”
The blonde turned to the Commodore, smiling sweetly but
insincerely. “Latimer, darling, you don’t mind if I bend the rules
a tiny bit, do you?”

The man’s look of annoyance gave
way to a
faint
smile. He nodded to Drake.
“I think we can make an exception for Miss Peake, Lieutenant,
providing it doesn’t become a habit.”

“Thank you, darling. Be a
treasure, Mister Drake, and bring her along to my stateroom, would
you?”

Drake cleared his throat again.
“I don’t think that’s what Commodore Traske meant when he gave you
permission to speak to the slave.”

Pam shuddered at the word and
gave him a resentful glance. His mouth was a thin, disapproving
line.

“Permission?” The blonde smiled,
cat-like once more. “I didn’t ask for that, Lieutenant, only the
merest
favour. And since I own half the
Company don’t
you think that technically half of the
girl belongs to me already?”

“Maybe so, Ma’am,” he said
stiffly, “but we have rules and regulations we must follow.”

“Never mind, Drake,” the
Commodore said, though he looked displeased. “Carry on. We’re
always glad to accommodate Miss Peake.”

The blonde laughed, eyes
flashing mischievously. “Oh, I shall hold you to that one day,
darling. And thank you. Come along, Mister Drake. I won’t keep her
long.” Her gaze travelled the length of Pam’s nudity. “Just long
enough.”

While Pam’s
belly performed somersaults, Drake’s grip propelled her in Miss
Peake’s wake.
Before they left the saloon through another
set of doors an almost naked girl carrying a tray of drinks passed
them. With horrifying certainty Pam knew she was a - what had Drake
called her - a stewardess third class?
Her gut
growing tighter at every step, she
had a blurred impression
of corridors decorated with tasteful murals, thick, plush carpets
beneath her bare feet, and abruptly found herself in what looked
like a well-appointed hotel room.

Three attractive young women
were there already. One, dressed in ankle boots, black leather
trousers and a flimsy white blouse, had a large, holstered pistol
at her right hip. Another wore a small scrap of silk around her
hips and a nearly transparent band that revealed beneath it the
firm mounds of two full, pink-nippled breasts. The third was
completely naked and to Pam’s consternation was kneeling on the
floor, her cheek to the carpet and her hands stretched back to pull
her thighs apart where they met her buttocks, revealing the gape of
her pinkly glistening sex to anyone who walked through the door.
Stricken, Pam stared at the red, raised ridges that lined the
girl’s tight, pale-skinned bottom.

“Get up, Milly.”

The girl rose and turned. She
was short and petite but large-breasted, and as blonde as the young
woman who had given the order. Her round eyes looked briefly at Pam
and then, with a hunger she made no attempt to disguise, focused on
Drake.

“Do bring the slave in,
Lieutenant,” Miss Peake said. “I promise you can have her back in
an hour.”

His fingers tightened on Pam’s
arm. “She should be on display now. An hour....”

“Isn’t too much to ask, is it,
darling? Why don’t you join us? I’m sure Milly would enjoy it.” The
blonde crossed the room, closed her hand over Pam’s wrist and drew
her away from him. “And
you
might enjoy Milly, too.”

Drake stiffened. “You know that
would be inappropriate, Persephone.”

She laughed. “Oh, you and your
Company rules, Rafael. Don’t you ever bend even the least important
of them? There must be times when you’re not bound by them, or
don’t you have time these days for anything but duty and
responsibility?”

“Not while I’m on board. And my
job takes up most of my time.”

“All work and no play. You
didn’t always take everything so seriously. Perhaps you’d prefer
Tania?” She angled her bare right tit towards him and pulled the
jewelled clip from its red, upright nipple. “Or maybe you’d like
me, darling.” Her air was challenging and slightly mocking.

“That would be inappropriate
too, Miss Peake,” Drake said with obvious annoyance.

“What happened to Persephone? Or
‘Sephone? You used to call me that, darling, remember?” Her glossy
lips pouted. “But you don’t like me
anymore,
do you? You think I have too much freedom for
a female, and too much money. I even suspect that you think I
deserve to be bent over and flogged like one of your naughty slave
girls for my impudence and my Sapphic ways.” Her laughter tinkled.
“I do, darling, but I’m far too rich for that to happen. And I like
men too, especially if they’re handsome and strong.” She sucked in
a breath that lifted her bare breast invitingly towards him.

Drake cleared his throat noisily
and Pam saw a hint of colour across his angular cheekbones, anger
or embarrassment, or both.

“What I think is of no
importance, particularly to you. I have the same concern for your
safety and well-being as I have for the other passengers, and
that’s what I should be seeing to.” He checked his watch. “Your
hour began five minutes ago.”

“Do come back
personally
to collect her, darling,” the blonde said before he closed the
door. She turned to Pam, laughing softly. “He’s a bit stuffy
sometimes but I always feel safer knowing he’s on board. And he has
the balls to stand up to me. He’s attractive, don’t you think? Did
you notice it wasn’t Milly or Tania, or even me he was looking at?
I think he’s taken a liking to you.”

Pam could not have cared less.
She watched the blonde woman suspiciously, heart thudding. Miss
Peake chafed her palm over her exposed nipple.

“Remind me to return this to
Tiffany’s
, Tania. The clasp is too tight.” She dropped the
jewelled clip onto the dressing table and slipped the single strap
on her dress from her left shoulder. The brunette girl in the
breast band and obscenely short skirt plucked
the
discarded garment
from the floor. Naked, Miss Peake went to
the bed, sat and pointed to the floor at her feet. “Come and kneel
by me,” she told Pam. “Tell me your story. Why did you decide to
get yourself enslaved?”

“Oh, I didn’t!” Relieved that at
last someone was ready to listen, Pam knelt without hesitation. “I
was on an airplane over the ocean....”

“What?” Miss Peake’s carefully
plucked eyebrows arched.

“An airplane. It has wings and
flies. Oh, please! I know it’s going to sound impossible but it’s
true. Really it is.”

The blonde’s green eyes, which
emphasised the feline cast of her beauty, searched Pam’s face. All
trace of her frivolous air had disappeared, replaced by what may
have been a worried frown but quickly became a calculating
appraisal. She gave a short laugh.

“All right, darling, but it had
better be entertaining.”

Pam kept it short for fear of
losing her attention. When she reached the part where she had been
stripped and forced to stoke the boilers Miss Peake cut her
off.

“That’s to be expected, darling.
They’re never gentle dealing with one of That Kind.”

“But they say they’re going to
make me a slave.” Tears brimmed Pam’s eyelids.

“You’re already a slave. You
became one the minute you stepped aboard, however fantastical you
claim the method of your arrival was. It was an imaginative little
tale, though.”

“Oh, you don’t believe me.
Please, it’s the truth. Won’t you help me?”

Persephone Peake laughed,
looking more feline than ever. Leaning back, she spread her legs.
Without thinking, Pam looked between them, to find herself staring
in horror at the fleshy, crescent-shaped lips of the
young woman’s
sex, swollen and reddened and glistening
with moisture.

“Darling, I didn’t bring you
here to help you. I brought you to lick my pussy.”

Chapter Three

“Eve,” Persephone called as Pam
leaped to her feet and backed quickly towards the door.

The woman in the leather
trousers caught her easily. She was tall, big-breasted and broad
hipped, and twice as strong as Pam, as she proved by grabbing her
wrists, bending her arms behind her and marching her back to the
blonde.

“Not a good start, darling.
Slaves are supposed to be obedient and compliant. When they aren’t
they get punished. Do I have to punish you?”

Pam wriggled uselessly in Eve’s
grip. “Please, I’m not like that. I’m not… not interested in
women.”

Persephone chuckled. “Neither
are Milly and Tania, but they know better than to let it stop them
doing as they’re told. And you’re going to have to learn it too,
darling. On the post, Eve. Help her, Tania.”

Pam had not noticed the post
mounted close to the wall near the bed. Short bars stuck out at its
top and bottom, with two leather straps hanging from the upper ones
and two more attached to the lower. Eve easily overcame Pam’s
attempts to resist and backed her against the shiny metal. Tania
seized her right arm and raised it.

“If you continue fighting I’ll
make sure it goes harder for you,” Persephone warned.

With the welts across her back
already stinging from pressing into the post, the American girl
exerted every ounce of self-control and stopped struggling as Tania
fastened the straps around her wrists. At the feel of the tight
leather Pam immediately thought of Rick. Her legs trembled when Eve
joined the other girl in buckling the ankle straps tightly in
place.

“Get her arms higher,”
Persephone instructed when they were finished. “I want her
stretched.”

“Oh, no,” Pam wailed, as they
raised the upper bar and the pull on her wrists and shoulder joints
increased until her body was strained taut and the mounds of her
breasts lifted higher on her chest, jutting out with their rosy
nipples pointing right and left. The stiff anklets stopped her
rising on her toes to ease the tension. For the briefest of moments
a shiver of nervous excitement ran through her at the memory of
what Rick had called their ‘games’. Persephone stepped closer, and
Pam felt gnawing anxiety and awful helplessness in the grip of the
leather binding her limbs. Smiling, the blonde reached a fingertip
to the outer curve of Pam’s left breast and traced a line over its
rounded fullness.

She squeezed her eyes tight
shut. “Oh, God, I’m not a dyke,” she hissed through gritted
teeth.

“You mean a Sapphic, darling,”
Persephone purred, “and we’re barely tolerated here. Being too open
about it can get you a public flogging or even slavery. Unless, of
course, you’re as obscenely rich as I am.” Her light laughter
tinkled close to Pam’s ear. “I’d have to do something very silly
indeed to end up being enslaved. Like stowing away.” She gave Pam’s
nipple an uncomfortable tweak. “Look at me, Ann.”

The American girl opened her
eyes. The blonde’s lips hovered inches in front of her own.

“That’s your real name, isn’t
it? It says so on the notice they put up about you. Do you know
you’re the star of tonight’s entertainment, darling? You should.
There’s plenty in the papers warning girls like you what will
happen if you stow away. Yet so many still do. Why do you think
that is?”

“I don’t know,” Pam said.
“Please let me go. I’m not Ann, I’m Pamela Weston. I told you how I
came here. It’s the truth.”

Persephone closed her hands on
her breasts and squeezed.

Pam gasped as the fingers sank
deep into her tender flesh. “Ooh, no.”

“You mustn’t go around telling
stories no one will believe, Ann. You’ll only get hurt. What you
should do is be obedient and cooperative, then you won’t get half
as many beatings. Right, Tania?”

“That’s right, Mistress,” the
brunette answered at once. Like her Mistress’s, her accent sounded
British.

“There, you see?” Persephone
stopped squeezing Pam’s breasts and rubbed them firmly with her
palms. “Now forget your little fantasy and concentrate on being a
good slave. Otherwise you have a lot of painful experiences ahead
of you. What do you think a slave girl should be above all
else?”

Pam’s stomach knotted.
She had been asked the question before. She gave
the same answer she had given Rick. “I… obedient.”

“Very good.”
Persephone’s
smile held no warmth. “And respectful of her
betters. What do you think she should call them?” She pinched Pam’s
nipples.

“Ow! Ooh! Mistress! She should
call them Mistress.”

Persephone continued pinching,
tightening her grip until the pain seemed to be flowing from the
pulsing points into the rest of Pam’s body, the way it had with
Rick. “Not if they’re men, silly.”

“Ooh! Master! Master if they’re
men, Mistress.”

“Good girl. You’ve learned a
useful lesson. Remember it.” Slowly and deliberately she scraped
her fingernails over the delicate skin of Pam’s breasts as far as
her nipples, then again squeezed the twin points hard between
fingers and thumbs.

“Ooh! Ooh! Stop, please! I’ll do
whatever you want. Don’t hurt me any more.” The idea was utterly
abhorrent but she could take no more of the blonde’s frightening
torments.

Persephone laughed wickedly. “I
know you will, darling. But not until you’ve had another lesson.”
She released Pam’s fiercely throbbing nipples and went to a
cupboard. Through tear filled eyes the American girl saw it was not
the dresses it contained that the blonde was looking at, but the
rack attached to the door.