Telepaths Don't Need Safewords, by Cecilia Tan (2 page)

Semen shot out over the grass, a
fair bit spattered the golden edge of Gallen's green waistcoat.
Arshan recovered immediately. He grabbed me by the chin and scolded
me harshly. He gripped the halter at the center and pulled it over my
head, with two knots he tied my hands behind my back using it instead
of rope. Then he knelt in front of me, holding my head still by the
hair at the base of my neck, and slapped me with his right hand
across my cheek.

Do it again,
I thought.

He raised his hand high this time,
and I tried to flinch, but his other hand held me still. "Don't
you move, now" he said, almost growling, as he brought the
slapping hand down to fondle my bare breasts instead. He squeezed the
nipples between the knuckles of his first and middle fingers, then
forced my head down to the grass. The blades prickled against my
chest, cool and rough. "Are you ready to apologize?"

"I'm sorry, Master."

"You needn't apologize to me.
Apologize to this gentleman, whose finery you've ruined."

I kept my mouth shut. Gallen was
on his feet now, towering above us. Arshan stood, picking up the end
of the leash again. "Slave." He gave it a jerk and I sat
up. But I kept my head down. "Slave," he repeated.

"Screw you," I said.

You're pushing it.
"Maybe I haven't made myself clear," he said, wrapping the
leash around his hand, until he held me fast by the neck. "I
think you owe this man something, and I intend to see he gets it."
He lay me on my back in the grass, leading me by the neck. "Gallen,
may I borrow your knife?"

"Certainly."

He handed down his pearl-handled
dagger. Arshan slipped it deftly under the waistband of my tights,
and with one stroke, ripped them open from my bellybutton downward.
Uncoiling the leash, he wrapped the other end around my right ankle,
binding my foot near my head. The left leg he bound with one of the
belts from around his own waist, by wrapping my knee to my shoulder.
I felt my own wetness drip down the crack of my ass as my pussy was
now open to the wind. "Gallen, I believe this slave owes you
something. So long as you do not strike her, you may do as you
will."

What?
I started to object. But Arshan didn't answer me. Gallen opened a
cockslit in his own tights and brandished his penis. "With
pleasure," he said, as he motioned for two male slaves to lift
me up onto the table. He pressed the head of his cock against my ass.
"I will gladly spill some seed in return." he said, and
with that he rammed into me. He got about an inch in, holding me by
my thighs. His cock was so dry it burned as he thrust deeper in. I
saw his face twist and wondered if it was unpleasant for him, too.
But then I felt his balls against my ass, and he started pumping. I
clenched my teeth tightly, staring him in the eye as he worked. I
don't think he liked that, but it didn't matter because soon his eyes
were shut. The motion became smoother as pre-come leaked out of him,
but I kept my teeth bared and didn't relax. As he began panting, I
growled, and he came inside me, shooting hot white blood up into my
insides. I looked away while waiting for him to recover. He opened
his eyes, and nodded to Arshan. "Well," he said, his dick
still inside me. "She is good for one thing." I opened my
mouth to speak, but he clamped a hand over it. He pulled his leather
gauntlet off the other with his teeth, and began stroking my pussy.
His index finger probed down between our stomachs. He brought it out
from my vagina, moistening my labia with the juices there, then
stroked my clit upward a few times, smiling as I shivered
involuntarily.

He worked his large, rough thumb,
back and forth. I tried to fight him, but struggling only increased
the contact. My hips began moving with him as I hungrily sought my
release. I bucked forward, trying to increase the pressure, when I
felt his shrunken penis slip from my ass. "Ohh, looks like I'm
done," he said, stepping back from me. "I hate you," I
whispered between clenched teeth. With my hands behind my back, there
was no way I could finish the job he started. He was laughing. "The
poor little thing, look at her struggling. Ha!"

Arshan released my legs and made
me stand up. I trembled, tried to rub up against his leg, but he
slapped me, again. "Down. You're a mess. I think you need a walk
through the pool." As he led me to the edge of the water, he
asked me
How are you
doing?

Loving every minute. I still
don't like Gallen, though.

He winked.
Yeah,
but at least I got the knife away from him.

* * * *

We mingled near the buffet for a
while. Arshan picked at bits of bread and fruit. Occasionally he
would drop something into my mouth as he made his point or changed
the tide of a conversation
—when
he wanted me shut up. My thighs hummed with the energy Gallen had
built up. It made me quieter than usual, all I could think about was
Arshan's penis, which I had held in my mouth not so long ago. From
time to time, as we circulated though the crowd, I met the eyes of
guests, willing them to touch me.
Look
at me, how can you resist me? My breasts bared for you, my hands
tied, the gaping rent exposing my mound, how can you not bring your
hands to me?
But they
only touched with their eyes, some with curiosity ("Wish I'd
seen that scene") or disdain. Very few were masked like us, I
realized. Perhaps we were outdated. Finally, bored, I began nuzzling
Arshan's shoulder. I rubbed my breasts against the woven fabric of
the short cape, feeling the nipples contract to become rock hard.

"I think the civil unrest
will resolve itself," he was saying to a man I didn't know, who
also had a slave on a leash. The slave, a male, was wearing nothing
at all, and posed and pranced after his master like a show horse.
Arshan held me still with his gaze. "Haven't you had enough? No
favors for you until I'm finished eating."

The other man chuckled. "Poor
thing, she looks like a hungry one."

I tried to rub my head on Arshan's
chest, but he backed up a bit. I lowered my head, then, and went for
the man, pressing my chest against his side and begging silently with
my eyes. "Oho! Arshan, I do believe you have been depriving the
girl."

"Ah, she gets like this
sometimes, uncontrollable. But she hasn't deserved me yet. What shall
I do?"

The man stroked his moustache.
"Slave," he said to his own slave, "Kneel." The
slave obeyed. To Arshan, as his eyes examined me still pressing
against him. "I believe we might have some amusement?"

"By all means."

Arshan handed the leash to the
man, who held me from behind by my shoulders. He untied my hands as
he moved me forward, until I was less than an inch from his kneeling
slave's face. The slave licked my stomach. "Lie down," he
said, pushing me down as he said it. He held my wrists fast above my
head, and called for two other men to hold my ankles. Two other
guests gladly did, spreading my legs in front of the slave. "Now
slave," he said, speaking to his own, "follow my
instructions very carefully."

"First, run the back of your
fingers up the inside of her legs, but stop about half way up the
thigh. Good. Again. Keep that up. Now move forward on your knees, run
your hands up her stomach, cup her breasts. Take each nipple into
your teeth, the right one first."

I twisted as he bit, not hard
enough to draw blood but enough to send goosebumps down my whole
right side. I moaned when he took the left.

"Now pinch them both with
your fingers, keep your thumbs over the tips of the nipples, rub as
you would a lucky coin. Ah, she's moving now. Fetch ice from the
table. Good. Now take one cube in either hand, and hold it against
her breasts. Rub. Good. Now with the ice, down the center of her
sternum, down to the bellybutton, slowly now, slowly down the center
of her abdomen, stop. Leave the ice there."

I felt the cold water melting down
over my pubic hair.

"Now take some ice cubes in
your mouth. With a cube in your right hand, slowly draw a line from
the floor, up past her anus (I shivered again) up to her vagina,
stop. Can you push it in? It has melted already? Get another, now up,
up, press it to her clitoris, slave. Do not rub, simply press."

I gasped. The rubbing Gallen had
given me seemed to flood back into me, I felt my labia swelling and
my clit begin to throb under the ice.

"Now, keeping the ice in your
mouth, extend your tongue, touch her clitoris."

The rough surface of the tongue,
but as cold as ice, made me jump. The slave began a circular motion
with the tongue, then switched to a straightforward lapping. I
couldn't stop moving my hips. I tried to pull my legs free
—
I
wanted to wrap them around his head and keep his icy tongue there
forever, but the men held me fast. I began moaning.

"Now slave, please immerse
your penis in the ice. After this." He pulled a cock ring from
the pocket of his brocaded jacket. The slave had trouble at first,
but finally succeeded in putting it in place. Good. I wanted him long
and hard and inside me. Even if it would be ice cold.

The long frozen shaft penetrated
my throbbing cunt one millimeter at a time. I moaned trying to move
up further on his pole, but he kept the distance where he, or rather,
his master, wanted it. When he was all the way in, they held more ice
to my nipples, and then he pulled just as slowly out, and iced his
cock some more. Then he came back in, slowly, and out. More ice. Then
slowly in... I thought I would go insane. He tickled my clit with the
icy tip then and a spasm ran up my spine. So close! Then he plunged
into me, and began grinding in a wide circle. I moaned loudly, but
kept my eyes on the man holding my wrists. After all, it was really
him fucking me, through his slave. I imagined it was Arshan inside me
then and I gasped, the slave began pumping in and out of me so fast I
was just beginning to wonder how long he could keep that up when I
came and came and came. One leg came free as I spasmed and the they
all let go and I clung to the slave with all my limbs, holding him
deep inside me. I rolled him over onto his back, and sat up, riding
him. I threw my head back and began rocking, pushing immediately for
that second explosive orgasm I knew I could have. It blossomed
quickly, the energy traveling out my limbs and up through the top of
my head as I cried out.

I slumped forward and Arshan
lifted me off the slave's still stiff penis. There were people
applauding politely, I think. He bound my hands in front of me then,
and let me lean, eyes closed against him, covering my shoulder with
the corner of his cape. "There now, much more docile, you see."

"So I do see," the man
was saying. Then to his slave, "Well done." He removed the
cock ring. "He has been instructed not to have an orgasm or
ejaculate until I say he may," he explained. "I am
pleased."

We moved off into the crowd then.
Thank you,
I thought dreamily.

You're welcome. But you're not
done yet, are you?

I sent him the image in my mind of
his penis probing the very dark corners of my soul, of the fire
spreading up my limbs and back through him with a kiss, building and
spreading through every pore in both our bodies.
In
time,
he replied.
But
I think I am going to let one more scene pass.

He rarely gave me hints about what
he was planning, unless that was a part of it all.

Yes, I think I'll trade you for
someone else for a while.

What?

Trade you.

Arshan, I don't like the sound
of that.

You can tell me to stop
anytime. We'll go home.

I bit my lip.
Not
yet. Not yet
Even
through his thoughts I was unsure if he was serious. Aftershocks from
orgasm were making things jump in and out of focus. He held me tight
as he led me to a place to sit, a chaise lounge along one wall.

When I looked up he was smiling.
It's just I have a few
interests,
he thought.

Oh? I haven't seen much worth
fishing for...

He shared with me the image of
Cleo, black beads covering them both.
Hah.
How do you think you're going to maneuver that? Cleo doesn't DO
public displays anymore.

Who said it would be public?
But not just now, I'm thinking of more ready game. You remember Mor?

How could I forget him.
Mor was an old party-goer who had played with us a few times. He had
luscious dark brown skin and long black straight hair.
But,
he's...

He's here tonight, as a slave.
I don't think I'll have to trade you for him, but I do want him.

I returned the smile.
Let's
go for it.

* * * *

I
had to admit Mor was stunning. I had always seen him heavily adorned
in black leather. But tonight he wore only body paint, in elaborate
and colorful designs. His hair drawn back in a long top knot, he
seemed a bird out of a jungle paradise, alien and irresistible. His
master we also knew, Martin, who had once been a student of Mor's. I
suspected this was a sort of graduation gift. Mor's and my eyes met
while our masters talked. If I hadn't known better I would have
thought he had me hypnotized. I admitted to myself I wanted him, but
he was Arshan's choice. The thought of his body and Arshan's together
warmed me all over. A crowd was gathering.