Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I realized, as Mistress Franla led the way into the vast-seeming room beyond the magic doors, that I was holding my hands at my sides, grasping my hips as if my master or my mistress had commanded me to keep them out of the way. Under my palms I could feel the lacy waistband of my panties, and my blush grew hotter as I wondered if I had my hands there to remind myself of my bonded condition—as if I had taken to reassuring myself that indeed, just as my mistress had told me, I had no choice.
The carpet in the hallway gave way to a much deeper, thicker one, in a shade of red that reminded me of the uniforms of the company agents. That similarity sent a little shudder through my body, and I found myself raising my eyes as if to escape from the sight.
What I saw, the enormous room I couldn’t take my widening eyes off of once I had glimpsed it, seemed like the emperor’s bedchamber from one of the school stories of Vionian imperial glory. The bed, which dominated the room, seemed large enough for five men Baron Gravamir’s size to sleep comfortably.
Or for his lordship and a dozen bed girls like me, my imagination contributed, making me swallow hard at the thought.
It bore a coverlet in deep purple, and it had posts, ornate but very solid, at its four corners. They seemed made out of some ancient wood—the mighty oak of old Earth, sprang to mind, from some half-forgotten story. I couldn’t begin to tell how ancient this bed of my noble master must be.
Looking at my master’s bed, the place where I knew he intended to use me for his pleasure, my heart quailed. I remembered the way his lordship had dismissed me, once Mistress Franla had stood me up in front of me, and I had raised my panties at her command.
My eyes had remained on his lap, fascinated by the way his cock, still glistening with my saliva, seemed to have become soft and much smaller after his climax. His right hand had reached out, as I watched, and taken very gentle hold between my thighs. I had whimpered, dismayed and confused at the way his light fondling reawakened the need there with such terrible ease. Then my eyes had widened, because my master’s penis had begun to grow, very visibly, as if in response to the mere act of touching my pussy through the lace of the tiny panties he had dressed me in.
“Look at me, Wetquim,” he had murmured. With a hot blush, I had raised my gaze to his handsome, bearded face. He had smiled, but not a gentle smile. “Mistress will take you to my bedchamber now and leave you there. I will join you in a few minutes to deflower this pretty cunny. You should do your best to prepare yourself to obey me.”
There, only a few meters from his bed, my feet suddenly seemed entangled in the deep pile of the carpet. I found that my hands had begun to creep around my hips, tentatively moving to cover the too-narrow front of my underwear.
Mistress Franla turned to me as if she could sense my sudden reluctance. She had a kind, almost sad smile on her face.
“Now at least you know what lies at the heart of the mystery, Chalondra,” she said in a soft voice, reaching out her hand unexpectedly to stroke my cheek.
I gazed into her blue eyes for a moment, sure that I had nothing to reply. Abruptly, though, I found myself giving voice to anxious words.
“Does it… will it…” I bit my lip, my brow furrowing, as I watched the older woman incline her head, an admonishing look on her face. “Mistress?” I tried again and saw the warning in her face clear. “Mistress, will it hurt?”
The gentle smile returned. “Some parts of it will hurt more than other parts,” she told me. “None of it will hurt as much as the Trestrimarian cunt paddle—or the punisher.”
I felt a quizzical expression break out on my face. Mistress Franla’s smile seemed to widen a little as she took it in.
“It’s not the pain that makes it difficult for bed girls like you, Chalondra,” she told me. “It’s the pleasure.”
My lips parted. For an instant I felt certain that what the older woman had said made no sense at all. Then I felt my face go bright red as the heat rushed there—and, much worse, as the heat rushed to the aching place between my thighs. My virgin sheath didn’t ache from the terrible paddle my mistress had used there, much though I wished the sensation had come from that source. I felt as if my body had become determined to prove to me the truth of every terrible, humiliating thing Mistress Franla said to me.