The slave knelt naked to the waist in the center of the room. Her hands were bound behind her back, forcing her chest outwards, offering her full naked breasts in supplication. Her dark nipples were stiff and pointy, erect from the thrillingly cool air...or was it the anticipation of her masters touch?
Long blonde hair fell in cascades around the slaves head and across her shoulders while a deep blue silk scarf covered her eyes, the knot hidden beneath her hair. Black nylon stockings covered her legs and stopped at mid-thigh, the garters holding the straining fabric against her supple thighs. A very small bit of black lace draped down the firm swell of both hips and between the cleft of her buttocks - a shamefully small piece of underwear that barely hid her sex.
The slaves name was Shani and she did not know how long she had been kneeling, alone, in this room. She had been brought in by another woman - an ugly, old crone that wore nondescript clothing that had forcefully undressed the younger woman, bound her hands and covered her eyes. There were soft pillows filling the room and Shani could remember that they were of deep, plush burgundy material, sumptuously soft and sparing her knees the agony of kneeling for so long on a bare floor. But still the room was cool and the tension of the wait, kneeling bare, vulnerable, and weak left her shivering.
A swish of fabric danced across Shanis skin, forcing a gasp of surprise and pleasure from her throat. A sharp crack of leather stung her taught buttocks and a husky voice hissed in admonition of her exclamation.
"You may not make a sound."
The voice was deep, threatening, and powerful. As if to reinforce the sting on her buttocks and the force in that voice, the edge of leather traced the contours of her buttocks - first from the outside of one delicious orb in to her cleft and then from the outside of the other in. Shani nodded her understanding and shivered, struggling to remain still and silent.
Th... อ่านทั้งเรื่อง
