Read Online Enslaved by Colette Gale - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Colette Gale
Tags: Fiction/Erotica
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reached the same vast chamber in which Jane had first set her eyes on Zenovia.
The chieftain walked through the doorway, leading Jane, greeting some of her guards and others—all women, of course—who appeared to be advisors or members of whatever sort of peerage was in place in Amazonia. Jane felt countless eyes on her, stroking over her bare skin, lingering on her high, generous breasts, and settling at the gold-plated contraption that covered her labia.
Once on the dais, Zenovia seated herself on the massive throne and directed Jane to remain next to her, kneeling upright so that her shoulders were about the same height as the arms of her chair. Jane was able to rest on her haunches as long as she kept her back straight. This position left her with her breasts quite boldly on display, thrusting out and up. Zenovia arranged the golden leash so it hung down between them, then curved beneath one breast toward the throne, where she kept the leash in her hand.
And then commenced Zenovia’s day of governing. Jane remained silent and immobile while the chieftain met with her advisors, made judgments, and settled disputes. During this time, Jane could neither move nor speak or slump. Her legs and buttocks ached from holding the same position for so long.
And to make matters worse, Zenovia often stroked her hair absently, as if she were a dog sitting at attention next to its master. Her hands would filter down over the long curls, petting and stroking as she asked questions and listened to the answers given by her subjects. Jane felt every touch like a burning brand, heavy and hot, and knew it was meant to display her subservience to everyone.
At last, there was a moment when no one waited to see the chieftain. A double row of guards stood at attention on either side of the chamber, and several pages awaited their orders. Zenovia turned to Jane, and, gathering up the leash, began to draw it around toward the front of her chair. Jane followed, scooting along on her knees, until she was close to the throne.
“Come here,” Zenovia said, and gave a sharp yank on the chain, directing Jane toward her lap.
Mortified, for she felt every eye in the room fixated on her, Jane obeyed and climbed onto Zenovia’s sturdy thighs. Her mistress settled her in place as if she were a small cat or child…but when her palm closed around her breast and she began to idly stroke Jane’s nipples, her position became much less innocent.
Jane tried to control a shiver of lust as the light, teasing fingers played with her. But her body, which had been full and tight, ready to explode only a short time ago, eagerly surged back to arousal. She felt the telltale insistent throbbing of her tiny clit tucked safely behind its golden cup, and tried very hard not to think about it.
But she couldn’t keep from squirming a little, trying to find some sort of relief. Zenovia chuckled softly and kissed her ear, then bit her lobe gently, sliding her tongue around and inside her ear. Jane shuddered and stifled a soft moan as spikes of arousal stabbed her at every touch. Knowing she had no chance of easing it made things even worse.
“You are so delicious,” Zenovia murmured into her ear. “I can feel you quivering with lust…and it’s so unfortunate you made the choice you did. For there is no pleasure for slaves. You shall simply have to stew in your own lovely juices.” With that, she gave one last nip at Jane’s earlobe. Then she clapped her hands together sharply, drawing the attention of everyone in the chamber. “Bring in the possible studs.”
The double doors opened a moment later, and in marched two tall, broad, and muscular female guards. Behind them were two columns of men, lined up side by side, and linked by manacles on their wrists and ankles.
They were naked.
Jane’s breath caught as she recognized Captain Holt and one of his men from the ship. The others—of which there were fewer than a dozen—were unknown to her.
But each
The chieftain walked through the doorway, leading Jane, greeting some of her guards and others—all women, of course—who appeared to be advisors or members of whatever sort of peerage was in place in Amazonia. Jane felt countless eyes on her, stroking over her bare skin, lingering on her high, generous breasts, and settling at the gold-plated contraption that covered her labia.
Once on the dais, Zenovia seated herself on the massive throne and directed Jane to remain next to her, kneeling upright so that her shoulders were about the same height as the arms of her chair. Jane was able to rest on her haunches as long as she kept her back straight. This position left her with her breasts quite boldly on display, thrusting out and up. Zenovia arranged the golden leash so it hung down between them, then curved beneath one breast toward the throne, where she kept the leash in her hand.
And then commenced Zenovia’s day of governing. Jane remained silent and immobile while the chieftain met with her advisors, made judgments, and settled disputes. During this time, Jane could neither move nor speak or slump. Her legs and buttocks ached from holding the same position for so long.
And to make matters worse, Zenovia often stroked her hair absently, as if she were a dog sitting at attention next to its master. Her hands would filter down over the long curls, petting and stroking as she asked questions and listened to the answers given by her subjects. Jane felt every touch like a burning brand, heavy and hot, and knew it was meant to display her subservience to everyone.
At last, there was a moment when no one waited to see the chieftain. A double row of guards stood at attention on either side of the chamber, and several pages awaited their orders. Zenovia turned to Jane, and, gathering up the leash, began to draw it around toward the front of her chair. Jane followed, scooting along on her knees, until she was close to the throne.
“Come here,” Zenovia said, and gave a sharp yank on the chain, directing Jane toward her lap.
Mortified, for she felt every eye in the room fixated on her, Jane obeyed and climbed onto Zenovia’s sturdy thighs. Her mistress settled her in place as if she were a small cat or child…but when her palm closed around her breast and she began to idly stroke Jane’s nipples, her position became much less innocent.
Jane tried to control a shiver of lust as the light, teasing fingers played with her. But her body, which had been full and tight, ready to explode only a short time ago, eagerly surged back to arousal. She felt the telltale insistent throbbing of her tiny clit tucked safely behind its golden cup, and tried very hard not to think about it.
But she couldn’t keep from squirming a little, trying to find some sort of relief. Zenovia chuckled softly and kissed her ear, then bit her lobe gently, sliding her tongue around and inside her ear. Jane shuddered and stifled a soft moan as spikes of arousal stabbed her at every touch. Knowing she had no chance of easing it made things even worse.
“You are so delicious,” Zenovia murmured into her ear. “I can feel you quivering with lust…and it’s so unfortunate you made the choice you did. For there is no pleasure for slaves. You shall simply have to stew in your own lovely juices.” With that, she gave one last nip at Jane’s earlobe. Then she clapped her hands together sharply, drawing the attention of everyone in the chamber. “Bring in the possible studs.”
The double doors opened a moment later, and in marched two tall, broad, and muscular female guards. Behind them were two columns of men, lined up side by side, and linked by manacles on their wrists and ankles.
They were naked.
Jane’s breath caught as she recognized Captain Holt and one of his men from the ship. The others—of which there were fewer than a dozen—were unknown to her.
But each
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