| Recueil | Smut |
|---|---|
| Livre | My (fancy) life as a slave |
| Type | Chapitre |
| État | Publié |
The Aphroticary's favorite earner
"Everything seems in order..."
I am hanged up in this familiar dusty cave reeking of sex, blood and pain. Both of my hands are locked in cuffs hanging from the ceiling, lifting my arms up so my mistress could examine each inch-square of my body.
"So, you said someone spat on your face, right?"
I nod. "Yes, right on my mouth."
She moves her nose close to my lips and takes a cautious sniff.
"I only smell Gurz's odor here. It wasn't her who did it, was it?"
I shake my head. "No, it was a man. Middle-class, judging by his clothes."
She takes a few steps back. "But she did grab you to the neck and rubbed you, right?"
I adverted my eyes, sincerely ashamed. When it came to Mistress Morr, I always felt guilt when someone tried to claim me, or in Gurz's case, got intimate with my body.
"Yes"
Lady Gurz is the stereotype of the bisexual dominant butch ork, but Mistress Morr is somewhat even more impressive. For one, she is built like a statue, salient muscles covering all of her body. She has a very strong neck, the thickest neck I've ever seen — and I've seen a lot during the few months I've been here. All of this god-like build is topped by one of the most feminine face an ork could ever hope to have. Thin traits, delicate tusks, sky-blue eyes that highlights her leaf-green complexion. This duality is completed by an androgynous collection of jewelry, mostly piercings, favoring sapphire crimpings, and a superior and phlegmatic expression that no one could ever disturb.
"You didn't come, did you?"
I blush. "Not by her hand."
She comes close again.
"But you did, didn't you?"
I shake my head in denial. "Yes, but on the floor, on my own. Was that wrong?"
She grins. "That Gurz sure walks a fine line, but as far as I'm concerned, she's OK." She then frowns. "But you did wrong. You'll be punished."
"H— How am I gonna be punished?", I asked, a bit anxious.
"Sush!" she throws at me, raising her hand as a warning.
As far as liking being a slave goes, Morr's punishments are always something to fear. It can go from Do me mommy, I've been a bad girl to Please I beg you, to stop pouring acid on my mucosa. And of course, for better anticipation, she never tells which one it's gonna be. With a cruel tendency to take the opposite of the expected stance.
As a warning, she pinches my nipple in a quick sleight of hand. It isn't that painful, but the surprise makes me cry out.
Mistress Morr breaks away from me and walks up to the stair that goes back up to the rest of her mansion.
"Abel! Come down, I need you here!"
Soon, the summoned Abelaïd appears on the stony steps.
"Yes, Mistress?"
"Fetch the fuckatron, I need to teach this strumpet some self-respect."
Abelaïd is the only male slave on my lesbian of a Mistress. He is a stunted middle-age graying bearded half-elf, wearing a long opened tunic and a chastity cage entrapping what would otherwise be an bellow-average-sized penis.
He paces to the aforementioned machine, and begins — with all of his bony arms might — to drag it in front of me.
Mistress Morr herself walks up to the cabinet where she keeps all of her strap-on dildos, a browses among the wooden, metal and leather wares until she finds satisfaction.
"This one will do, for today."
She brandishes a large shiny metallic penis, whose shaft is dotted with thick bumps. Not the worst, but not the easiest one to take in either.
Now to see in which hole she plans to plunge it.
The infamous fuckatron is now just in front of my face. This machine consists in a leather dildo attached to a pole and a system of gears that allows back-and-forth movement induced by the turning of a crank. With variable thrusting depth and speed adjusted by dedicated levers.
Morr orders the configuration — average, quite a relief — which Abelaïd executes with an expert hand.
With her strap-on well adjusted, she places herself behind me and, by grabbing my waist with on hand, lifts my butt up to her level. My shoulder crack as I am now levitating, my chest facing the floor, and my arms still chained up to the ceiling.
Adverting his eyes from the scene, Abel begins to rotate the crank with both of his hands, and the leather dildo bluntly enter my mouth, beginning its forth-and-back movement.
"Now, I know you can't talk and you can't really tell me how it was, but I want you to feel exactly how you felt back there, do you understand?"
I feel the cold metal resting between my buttcheeks as my mistress softly trails her hand on my back. I feel a chill down my spine.
"Do. You. Understand?!?" she nearly shouts, grabbing my ginger hair with strength and forcing a muffled response from me.
"Hm-mm."
She let my mane go and soon I feel that a stretchable cloth is put around my head, covering my sight.
I hear the click of a lever, and the fuckatron begins to move faster. Some drool escape from my mouth and falls on the floor.
The metal shaft begins to move against my skin and stop just on my anus, teasing it until it twitches.
"Are you ready for it?"
I moan, which in such circumstance could only mean yes.
"Okay you girl gigolo, I'm going all in, all at once." she presses more against my rosebud. "Here it comes!"
She swiftly shifts her dick and unexpectedly penetrate my pussy.
My vision, which was all black, is struck white with the surprise change of hole and the sudden peak of pleasure that was built up by her teasing and the forced fellatio. I let out a long wail that left no doubt about the flash of bliss that runs through my body.
The oral dildo now goes even faster and deeper, to the point that the leather shaft bends in my throat. The metallic dick begins a strong pounding that lets me feel every bumps along its length.
She soon let my waist loose, maintaining me in the air by the sole hold of both instruments of pleasure. My pussy penetrates itself as I fall down along the shaft of chrome, and is lifted up again to its tip by my dear Mistress powerful hip strokes.
Air struggles to reach my lungs, and each gasp I manage to take is accompanied by a faithful cry of ecstasy.
"Of course," says dearest Mistress Morr between two of her own strained breathes, "the climax-hungry disgrace you are is not allowed to cum until I say so. If I say so."
I hear her spitting and feel a hot streak reaching my anus.
"You gonna get it!"
Two circles, and a thumb thicker than any human dick enters my ass, mirroring the now flying-fast fucking of her dick.
"Not yet, you cum-gargling pussy-drowning gang-loving sorry ass excuse for a cock sleeve!"
Wholly filled with pleasuring appendages, my thwarted body is shaken by spams of near-orgasmic pleasure and the nonrythmic triple penetration. A gigantic hand seizes my throat, depriving me of the slight breathing I had.
"Not yet! Not yet! If you come before I tell you to, I'll crush your neck!"
My pussy is split appart. My throat is burning like hell, drowning me in my own saliva. My ass is firmly closed on the base of her finger. My eyes are rolled back into my head. The air-privation dizziness kicks-in and I lose my senses of ups and down.
"SAY IT! NOW, SAY IT!"
She violently pulls on my throat, arcing my flexible back and dragging my face away from the leather dick. I catch a huge gasp of air and shout my all of my lungs:
"I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU MISTRESS!"
With an ultimate thrust of her dick and thumb, she releases all at once the orgasmic built-up that she forced me to contain. My internal muscles lock the appendages in place as I emit a long high-pitch scream that continues long after the movements inside me have stopped.
The electric pleasure that runs though my body is so intense that it hurts, more that any physical punishment could have. My whole body is still tensed at its max, not being able to process all the sensations it just went trough.
Then I fall limp, held straight by my arms only again, my feet barely touching the ground.
When I regain full consciousness, I am still twitching every few seconds, unable to move yet. The fuck machine is back in place, the blindfold is removed, and my dearly loved Mistress Morr is now fully naked again, the strap-on already put back in the closet.
I can't help but smile at her.
"My my, that was a powerful punishment there." She gently strokes my cheek. "Was that painful?"
I laugh a bit hysterically. "Not as much as it felt good, but this is not telling much."
She fetches two keys from the belt she put aside before it all began. With one, she unlocks my cuffs. She throws the other at Abelaïd.
"There, rub yourself and then go back to work." She turns to me. "Follow me, we have things to do.
We leave Abel behind and climb back up the stairs. My wrists are aching, and two circular notches are imprinted in them.
"Is that gonna leave a mark?" she asks.
"Not if I rub them with vaseline, I think. I'll hide it with a pair of sleeves for today."
She nods in approval. She dislikes her slaves displaying marks.
We emerge in the 'church' — sarcastic inside name for the small temple of Lelos —which always have a peculiar atmosphere after a play session punishment. The light-red walls emit a gloomy low light, the wood and bone altar is ominously disproportionate, and the darkwood row seats feel odd by their overtaking emptiness.
Still both naked, we leave this place and walk the checker-floored corridor.
Lelos is the goddess of love, family and consent, and like every other named gods the orks claim to adore she is just pale farce destined to the other races that don't seem to understand how religion is practiced down here. the greenfolk do not venerate gods as specific deities, but the gods in their whole, the pantheon as a concept.
Now that I better understand what it really means, I find it very mature compared to the other humanoids that need to pray specific emboitements, which in the end are just a way for their society to enforce certain visions. I mean, if you have the god of war, justice and blood (like Justcooh, the Mighty Goddess of the humans), the three concepts become inextricable, you cannot separate one from the other since they are conjoined in a single cult. In a sense, orks are more free than the other people in their ways of thinking thanks to that.
And to mock other cultures, greenfolks have developed these 'churches', places of worship of made-up gods, that are usually used as antechambers of secret(ish) room. That why the torture-sex cave of Lady Morr is hidden in the temple of the goddess of love and consent.
As I digress in my thoughts, we enter the all-indigo office of mistress Morr. She sits down in her armchair and begins to initial some documents as I quietly stand in a corner.
"We'll go out today. I have some errands to run downtown and require your presence."
I bow my head in acknowledgement.
She scribbles a short note, folds it and toss it at my feet.
"There. If you happen to encounter the infamous spitter —which I doubt but you never know— give him this note. It's a convocation from me to him. As middle-class, he won't refuse it."
I take the note and, as I haven't recovered my pouch yet, keep it at hand.
She resumes her paperwork.
"In about twenty minutes, we'll do a hall-gathering, and then we'll depart. In the meantime, I need you to—"
Strong knocks suddenly echoes through the mansion.
Mistress Morr seems upset. "I'm not expecting anyone today..."
Then she stands up, and storms out. "Come, Nasué."
As we arrive in the great hall, Gretha, the catfolk maid of the mansion, welcomes the unexpected guest.
It is a very short, but very broad female ork that enters, accompanied by a chained male gnome. She slightly bows toward my mistress in respect.
"Lady Harlom?" says mistress Morr, unruffled. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"
"There is a matter in our affairs that, while relatively minor, is to be handled hastily. I was hoping you could grant me a few minutes to discuss it, if your agenda will let you."
Mistress Morr feints a moment of pondering, then says "My schedule is quite busy today, but I can fit a short interview right now, if you do think we can handle it quickly."
Lasy Harlom nods in gratitude. "I will only take the time you can concede me."
"Let's go this way to my office, then."
Of course, both were lying. The great Lady Morr will never let affairs go down and has always managed to accommodate time for her clients, and anyone like Lady Harlom will arrange that the interview to go as long as it needs. But that's how the highborns talk among themselves, they have to show control, respect and concession, using a subtle conversational dance.
We all five —Mistress Morr, Lady Harlom, her slave, maid Gretha and I— head to the indigo office, and take place. The two Ladies sits in confortable armchairs, on each side of the wide oak desk, and we slaves just stand near them, waiting for the inescapable.
"If you'll excuse me, Lady Harlom, but as a sign of gratitude for you willingness to accommodate yourself to my tight schedule, let me offer you some entertainment." She turns to Gretha and I. "Please note that Lady Harlom here doesn't consume ladies. The show will be for her eyes only."
So we begin to take place. Gretha, with a graceful gesture, unknots her maidservant outrageously tiny apron, and so ends up fully naked. I leave the note I was holding on the floor next to her clothes, and approach her.
We begin by caressing each other's shoulders and hips. As she reaches for my face with her lips, I feign to back off, just to let her grab my hair and force the kiss on me. I sexily struggle for a second, but then embrace the feeling and let my hands slip on her private parts. Then I bluntly grab both of her tits. She throw me backwards, and coincidently trip and fall lay on the desk, feet in the air.
She bits her lip, grab my thighs, and go down on me.
As we loudly begin oral sex, my hand stroking her black furry cat-hears and the other one pinching my nipple, Lady Harlom adds :
"As token of thanks for your precious time, please let my own slave demonstrate his flexibility."
As I moan, I turn my head so I can see the gnome's demonstration.
He heaves himself up on the desk, on a corner close to mistress Morr, puts up a foot behind his neck, and begins to sensually suck his own dick.
I've always been put in awe by the penis size of half-humans. It's like they have a full-size dick on a half-size body. Proportionally, it always seems huge. And this one gnome in particular is way above average.
The gnome then forces himself into a deepthroat (can this tiny throat really take a 3-inch thick dick?), which sight makes my clit erect even more.
With a solid grip on Gretha's thick mane, I focus on the out-of-proportion little man and his gargling sound that makes me more and more excited.
Of course, the two Ladies have already began discussing affairs, but it's not my place to listen. My place is to please our guest, and to that end, feel a whole load of pleasure.
Tired of this passive double-oral, I lift the maid's head away from my pussy, take her chin between my thumb and finger, and make her understand with a knowing look that it's time she goes up on me.
Thus, she climbs on the desk and intricate her legs with mine. Stuck in this scissor position, we begin to rub our clits and pussies in rhythm, tilted so that Lady Harlom can feast her eyes. We intermingle our finger and let express our bliss in short and loud moans.
The gnome begins to moan too as he is now penetrating his own ass with his whole hand, almost suffocating by the balls-deep self-fellatio.
This goes on for a few minute, the Ladies conversing as if nothing is happening. But I can clearly see the satisfied side-eyes Lady Harlom grants us for time to time.
Orgasmic pleasure dangerously builds up inside me now, so I decide to change the course.
I slowly pull the gnome's head towards me, terminating his sucking and fisting as he knows where this is going. He rolls to me, and begin to passionately kiss my lips, forcing his tongue into my throat. Delicious taste of salty precum.
I stroke his balls, and he begin to climb onto my chest, putting his dick between my small-yet-firm tits.
Gretha let go of my other hand, and firmly grabs his hair on one side and his shoulder with the other one. Thus starts the paizuri.
He needs to press my tits together hard to be able to wrap them around his gargantuan dick. With each thrust, his penis head penetrate my mouth and leave a small load of delicious fluid on my tongue. I make it so it's becoming hard for me to breathe, so that my respiration is louder and my heartbeat rate increases. He starts to groan since both of his nipples and twisted by my malicious long fingers. Gretha is timing her electric scissoring movement so that each time she feel I get close, the orgasm is contained.
Not yet. Not yet.
The gnome also is beginning to feel dangerously close. I feel his penis head throbbing when it enters my mouth, and more and more precum accumulates inside my sticky mouth.
He then violently let go of my tits, escape my partner's grip, perform a half-circle rotation and sits on my face.
Now the show must be fiirst-class for the two non-acknowledging Ladies. The maid pounds my pussy with her own, my whole tongue snoops inside the gnome delicious anus, and both tops are languorously kissing and stroking each other genitals. The triad of moans and gasps is a symphony of building pleasure, always growing but never reaching its peak, only waiting for the nevercoming signal that will seal this interview in an explosion of orgasms.
"Gretha," mistress Morr castigates, "get up and go fetch, the cabinet."
The loudness (and the pleasure) drop down with this intervention. The maid separate from us with a loving lick of the gnome's lips, and a gentle stroke on my shaved pussy. Then she hastily leaves the room without taking the decency to dress up.
Back to only us two, and a bit toned down by the loss of a third of our sex force, the gnome flips over and slips between my leg. He assesses the wetness of my love-lips, then without warning insert his thick and long shaft up in my pussy, balls-deep in one thrust. As he begin an old-school fore-and-backwards movement, he feast on both my nipples in alternance, stroking one thigh with a hand and inserting a pussy-tasting finger in my mouth.
As for myself, I try to concentrate on repelling the frustration and trying to build back up the pleasure that was stolen from me, solidly griping on the desk sides with my hands.
I really do like having this tiny body pounding my hole with this huge dick, but this feels a bit bland after the edging threesome we had.
Our catgirl maid is quickly back with a strong pine cabinet on wheels, which she approches to my mistress.
Lady Morr, orienting the cabinet to advert its content from Lady Harlom's eyes, takes three glass bottles filled with colorful substances and each closed by a lige cork out of it and put them on the desk.
She brandishes the first one, a very small pink-purple vial. "This one is a mix of K-lpie extract and ecstasy juice. It is exactly what you need. The K-lpie active ingredient will allow you to dissociate, and even —and that's the desired effect— to decorporate. You'll have the sensation to be out of your body. You'll most likely have the impression that your body is someone else's, but it can vary from one user to another. For instance, some have witnessed that they can see the whole scene from a spectator's perspective, but that's a detail. The thing is, you will basically leave your body and let it do what it must. The ecstasy is here so that, if I put it figuratively, be hungry for intimacy, physical contact, and sex. The real effect is that you will feel more confident and sociable, but in the context of a domination fight, it basically means hungry for sex. You'll then be able to, if you allow me the expression, leave your body and let it fight the sex battle for you."
She carefully put it down on the desk. "You put one drop bellow your tongue and let it act. One drop the first times, then two drops when you're acclimated to the effects, and three drops if you happen to develop habituation. Never exceed three drops, under any circumstance. And you begin with only one drop for the first few times. Under your tongue, and don't swallow. Do you get it? It can be very dangerous if use unproperly and I don't want to find you ODed on the pavement. The dosage is calculated to fit the strongest metabolism. I'll give you an eyedropper for proper dosage."
She points at the second bottle, a larger flask with blue liquid in it. "This is a lubricant. The K-lpie extract tend to dry your insides, sometimes, so don't hesitate to use it, even during the fight. It has some ginger juice in it so it'll also raise your partner's pleasure by a considerable amount. Don't worry, the K-induced numbness will prevent you from getting too much arousal."
She take the last one in the palm of her hand, a long vial filled with an opaque and shiny silver substance, like mercury to the eye. "Maybe the most important is this one, bu the most difficult for you to use. Make anyone drink from it and they'll forget what happened in the few last dozen minutes. One-quarter of it will erase the last two hours of their memory. You can also pour it on their mucosa, but the dosage may be tricky doing so. The effect is not immediately visible to you, so don't panic and over-dose it if you don't see any change right away. But it always works. Use it if you lose a fight and want it to have never happened. Don't stay in the vicinity when you use it and don't use it if there are witnesses. It is legal-ish to drug yourself before —or even during— a dominance fight, but it is not to poison your opponent."
She puts the quicksilver-looking vial on the desk, then open her hands in contempt. "Except from the K, not any of them leave durable traces. If you can advance the coin, they are yours right here, right now."
Lady Harlom seems approving.
As they begin to discuss the price, the dick-trusting gnome accelerates his fucking. I focus away from my mistress' monologue a try to re-enter the show, which no one was really interested in anymore, and begin to stroke the gnome's back to accommodate his nearer ejaculation.
But the gnome suddenly stops. Everything goes silent as the Ladies focus back on us, silently surprised that we stopped our duties.
What the fuck is he doing? Does he want do get us both killed?
I don't have the time to begin to think of a way to save myself from this outrageous disrespect that he raises his head, maliciously winks at me, and jumps into the air.
The light body of the gnome flies high. While airborne, he rotates in half a circle, and then falls back on me.
This was perfectly calculated, because his erect dick directly and smoothly enter my mouth —that was wide-open in surprise— and even slickily slips down my throat. As he lands on my chest, he thrust his closed fist full-force into my vagina, up to the elbow. I am in awe, surprised, double penetrated my the most little and most daring slave I've fucked with for a long time.
He does not wait his cue and go full-throttle with both his limbs, which biggest is no-contest his dick, and begin to harass my inside from G-point to cervix and from uvula to esophagus.
I cannot repress salvos of convulsion as the sudden privation of air and mixed vaginal stimulations make my body panic. I unwillingly scratch his narrow back to the blood as he goes faster, and faster, and...
A sudden release. I arc my back to get a huge breathe of air, spreading my tits, and he ejaculates loads of thick snow-white sperm on my belly, boobs, face and hair. He emits a loud rattle of pleasure as the loads of cum continue to flock and defile my body. A real huge amount.
In one last mark of sexual deviance he insert his cock back in my mouth one time, ejaculates one last load in my throat, then withdraw is delectable dick for good.
On last kiss on my lips by which I share a bit of his own sperm with him, and he slip down on the floor, standing stiff, satisfied of the duty accomplished.
The highborn slaveowners, who were mute in awe the whole time, come back to their senses to end the negotiation.
Mistress Morr. "The final offer is 2k GP for the lot."
Lady Harlom. "Deal."
My mistress begins to advance her hand to seal the agreement, but Lady Harlom raises a finger. "If you slave finishes herself off, right here, right now."
I am a bit puzzled by this out-of-the-ordinary request, so I turn to my mistress.
She raises an eyebrow. "Well, didn't you heard the Lady?"
This is unexpected, but welcomed. This is a way to complete the almost-satisfied state the gnome left me in.
I position myself directly in front of Lady Harlom, whom I have now full attention. My legs are widely spread, my pussy directed at her face.
I lay back and begin to please myself, one hand spreading the lips and the other one rubbing my clit in an oval trained movement.
I close my eyes, and let my brain begin to orgasm.
I imagine the slave gnome back on me, kneeled between my legs, his hand spreading my thighs, and is gigantic dick splitting my insides. I also imagine his twin brother, same features, sames size, his pelvis resting on my head, deepthroating me with all his joyous vigor.
Then I feel two enormous dicks in my hands, two more twins of the despicable half-human slave, forcing handjobs on me as they press long knives to my sides.
They insult me with all of their vocabulary, me the good-for-nothing slave, the too-tight-of-a-pussy harlot.
"I will split you legs flat! I'm gonna break your hips!" yell the vagina one. "Then, when your womb is filled and your belly inflated by my cum, I'll stab you! I'll cut you pussy up to your throat!"
The deepthroat one takes over. "You'll taste my sperm as if it was ambrosia! I'll drown you in my juice until you are barely conscious, then force you to beg for more! And when I have enough of you, I'll cut your throat open and feast myself of this last long gasp of yours while I bury you under my semen!"
The handjob ones shout together in act. "Cut you open! We'll cut your tits and feed them to the dogs! You are nothing! NOTHING!"
I feel the warm streak of blood running down my sides as their knives slowly rupture my soft skin.
One blurry moment, and the vision changes.
I am now on the cold floor, fully restrained in a matting-press position. Neck collar sealed into the concrete floor, arms encased in the grey stone in full-eagle, ankles chained close above my head, and ass and pussy wide exposed, at full disposal of the four ugly half-things.
They are horribly fumbling on my ass cheeks, dicks stuck into my holes and scratching my pristine skin to the blood to keep their balance. They all convulse to penetrate me, two huge dicks in my pussy, two enormous cocks in my ass, breaking all of my sphincters for their cruel pleasure.
And they cum. Oh my gods they cum, without pausing. They pulse, and they thrust, and they pound, and they cum. The semen flows more are more on my body, covering me whole, drowning me without killing me, forcing me to gargle they despicable distasteful semen forever. And they bounce, they pulse, they thrust, they pound, they cum.
Blood coming from my torn-up insides mix with the semen, and the pain, and the pleasure, and the pain.
And they they begin to stab me. They each pull out a long knife from nowhere, and they stab my thighs, my belly, my neck. Pain now flows from everywhere. And they do it again.
And again.
The pain, the pounding, the stabbing, the cumming.
Again.
And again.
Then, all of a sudden, my dearest mistress Morr storms in, furious, and throws herself at the nasty, horrible, abominable, abhorrent half-men.
She grabs the first one at the neck. She squeezes, and a loud cracking sound fills the room. His neck is know at a right angle, and he falls limp on the floor. Dead. Eyes inflated and blood coming out of his mouth.
The second one jumps at her, but with one confident throw of her fist, she catches him in the air and he flies directly to a wall. His head is pulverized by the impact on the bricks, his body glued up to the wall by the blood and the force of the impact.
The third one tries to flee, but with two giant steps she catches on, and with one last step she crushes him on the floor like an insect, leaving only a pool of blood and mashed bone, and two little arms that were ripped of by the might of the stomping blow.
She walks up to the last one, who is curled down in a corner, shaking in fear. She brings him to me, puts him down on my exposed crotch as if it was an execution block. She pulls out a greataxe from nowhere and raises it up in the air.
"You sentence for having damaged my property is... DEATH."
With an precise swing, she cuts the half-human's head cleanly. The head rolls down my belly and rests on my chest.
My eyes feast on the distorted face the decapitated head offers me, spraying blood all over my face. I laugh.
"I am yours, mistress. I am yours."
She looks down at me with a disgusted look.
"Yes, you are mine. YOU. ARE. MINE."
I laughed hysterically a the half-humans demise. I am high on submission. My mistress glances at my twitching blood-covered crotch. She doesn't move. She doesn't come, she just looks at me in disgust.
"I AM YOURS! USE ME! BREAK ME! TEAR ME APART! DISPOSE OF ME LIKE THE TRASH I AM!"
I have a great shock through my body, and just like that, I cum. I cum, my exposed pussy spraying juice all over the room, all over my mistress.
I am hers.
I come back to reality.
My muscle are aching from the tension that have stiffened them for who-knows how much time.
I wipe the tears of pleasure that run on my cheeks, then heave myself back up in a sitting position.
I close my legs, taking a wearing pose on the spoiled desk. My pussy and my clit feel inflated between my thighs, pulsating with each heartbeat.
My vision become less blurry, and I am reminded that Lady Harlom is still in front of me, dripping from head to toe in my juice. Lady Harlom, this great ork highborn lady, has been spread all over her body by the orgasmic juice of a lowly slave. And she asked for it.
Her eyes are wide, and she fails to comprehend what just happened to her. I can hear the satisfied waiting of my mistress behind me.
When Harlom comes bask to her senses, she regains a bit of her composure and then jumps on her feet.
"It's perfect, Lady Morr. I'll order three sets of these from you, and pay 4k in advance. Now I— I have to leave."
My mistress approves the upgraded deal with a smiling silence. Harlom snatches the set of bottle, drops a heavy pouch on the desk —probably more than 4k, but she doesn't have the time to count, she has other things to do— then swiftly leaves, her slave fumbling to follow her.
Gretha —who witnessed the whole show— slowly follows them out of the room without taking her eyes from me, displaying an amazed and envious look.
My mistress stays walled in a proud silence of a few minutes.
I turn to my dearly-beloved proprietor.
"Was I good?" I ask, in need of recognition.
She laughs at my ingenuous question. "It must be the best solo performance you've ever offered." Then she winks. "Yet!"
She take a chain from her desk and attach it to my collar. "I'll call the hall-gathering. We still have a big day in front of us."
She leads me to the hall while shouting for the gathering. When we arrive in front of the four thick iron rings coming out of the wall destined to us slaves, she looks at me in the eyes. I smile at her, deeply in love.
"I am very pleased that your affairs ended up the way you wanted," I declare sincerely. "Your crafts really are wonderful!"
She softly smiles at me, as I was a child in admiration for her mother. "Well, they do not call me the Aphroticary for nothing."
While she chains me to the wall, she raises up my chin and stroke my cheek with her thumb. A gesture of affection she very rarely grant.
"You are my best earner, I shall keep you in my protection for as long as you beg me to"
Oh yes, mistress, I beg you to own me for the rest of my life.