Read Online Kate and Julia: Slave Girls of the Raj by Lindsey Brooks - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lindsey Brooks
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afternoon were already causing. It should have been unmitigated torment. Yet, he had shown he was skilled at more than just plying the whip. In between the floggings and the demeaning demands, the touch of his long-fingered hands had fired her passions and brought Penny to the boil again and again. For all her shame and smarting hurts, her body had wriggled and her head had whirled with the flaring intensity of her desire. She had felt such pleasure before, but never repeated over and over again with barely a pause.
Only when the first paleness of pre-dawn had tinted the sky beyond the open-shuttered windows had Courtney finally taken her. The memory of the mind-swirling climax she had experienced beneath him was enough to bring a prickle of excitement to her belly and a blush to her cheeks. As she had slumped, exhausted, onto the bed and drifted towards welcome oblivion she had had to acknowledge the man was a master of his art.
Nor had her degradation ended there. At Courtney’s insistence and under his supervision, the moment Penny had awoken in the early evening of the next day, Ranee and another Indian slave girl had bathed the stiffness from her body in a deep, square bath big enough to hold all three of them. Already embarrassed by them touching her most intimate places, the Englishwoman had then been forced to submit to the two girls massaging a salve into her welts and throbbing bruises. Only grudgingly had she admitted it helped relieve the awful pain.
It had been hard to face Ranee with even a vestige of dignity after the way Penny had whimpered and wriggled under her lapping tongue and probing fingers while she has been chained in Courtney’s punishment room. Never before had she submitted to the unnatural attentions of one of her own sex. That she had surrendered to her passion the instant she had felt the girl’s touch made the incident doubly humiliating to recall.
Yet now it seemed insignificant compared to what she had suffered on her second night in Courtney’s hands.
He had hardly touched her himself except to bind her on her knees to the foot of his bed. Despite her unwillingness, it had been his slave girls who had aroused her, much to Penny’s shame. They had taken turns. While Courtney used one, the other had explored Penny’s bound nakedness with hands and lips and tongue, pinching, teasing, nibbling and licking at every inch of her and continually driving her to the verge of fulfilment. Each time, a hairsbreadth away, she had heard Courtney’s curt order to stop and the maddening teasing had vanished and left Penny groaning in an agony of frustration.
It had gone on for hours, made worse by the sights and sounds of the man using his slaves, filling them in every way imaginable, much to Penny’s shock and embarrassment. To hear the girls’ pleasured moans and cries as they climaxed and to smell their ripe woman-scent mingling with her own had almost had her screaming from the urgency of her need.
Finally, as Penny was sure her tormentor had intended, she had lost all self-control and begged to be allowed her own release. The price had been high, and not only for her. First, Courtney had caned both of his slave girls across the buttocks while they crouched on all fours on the bed. To Penny’s discomfiture they had taken their punishment with much more fortitude and far fewer cries than she had managed. She knew that was one reason they had been beaten in her presence. The other had clearly been to stimulate Courtney before he made her serve him.
“You’ll pleasure me exactly as I tell you if you want to come,” he had told her. Penny had not hesitated. The knowledge that the two native girls were watching had meant nothing compared to the raging demands of her passion. Penny had knelt before him and licked and lapped and nibbled and finally accepted his bitter seed, though she had struggled to keep it down when it reached her stomach. Only then had he freed her right hand.
Only when the first paleness of pre-dawn had tinted the sky beyond the open-shuttered windows had Courtney finally taken her. The memory of the mind-swirling climax she had experienced beneath him was enough to bring a prickle of excitement to her belly and a blush to her cheeks. As she had slumped, exhausted, onto the bed and drifted towards welcome oblivion she had had to acknowledge the man was a master of his art.
Nor had her degradation ended there. At Courtney’s insistence and under his supervision, the moment Penny had awoken in the early evening of the next day, Ranee and another Indian slave girl had bathed the stiffness from her body in a deep, square bath big enough to hold all three of them. Already embarrassed by them touching her most intimate places, the Englishwoman had then been forced to submit to the two girls massaging a salve into her welts and throbbing bruises. Only grudgingly had she admitted it helped relieve the awful pain.
It had been hard to face Ranee with even a vestige of dignity after the way Penny had whimpered and wriggled under her lapping tongue and probing fingers while she has been chained in Courtney’s punishment room. Never before had she submitted to the unnatural attentions of one of her own sex. That she had surrendered to her passion the instant she had felt the girl’s touch made the incident doubly humiliating to recall.
Yet now it seemed insignificant compared to what she had suffered on her second night in Courtney’s hands.
He had hardly touched her himself except to bind her on her knees to the foot of his bed. Despite her unwillingness, it had been his slave girls who had aroused her, much to Penny’s shame. They had taken turns. While Courtney used one, the other had explored Penny’s bound nakedness with hands and lips and tongue, pinching, teasing, nibbling and licking at every inch of her and continually driving her to the verge of fulfilment. Each time, a hairsbreadth away, she had heard Courtney’s curt order to stop and the maddening teasing had vanished and left Penny groaning in an agony of frustration.
It had gone on for hours, made worse by the sights and sounds of the man using his slaves, filling them in every way imaginable, much to Penny’s shock and embarrassment. To hear the girls’ pleasured moans and cries as they climaxed and to smell their ripe woman-scent mingling with her own had almost had her screaming from the urgency of her need.
Finally, as Penny was sure her tormentor had intended, she had lost all self-control and begged to be allowed her own release. The price had been high, and not only for her. First, Courtney had caned both of his slave girls across the buttocks while they crouched on all fours on the bed. To Penny’s discomfiture they had taken their punishment with much more fortitude and far fewer cries than she had managed. She knew that was one reason they had been beaten in her presence. The other had clearly been to stimulate Courtney before he made her serve him.
“You’ll pleasure me exactly as I tell you if you want to come,” he had told her. Penny had not hesitated. The knowledge that the two native girls were watching had meant nothing compared to the raging demands of her passion. Penny had knelt before him and licked and lapped and nibbled and finally accepted his bitter seed, though she had struggled to keep it down when it reached her stomach. Only then had he freed her right hand.
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