CHAPTER ONE
Late afternoon sunlight reflecting off the still, pristine blue waters of the South
Atlantic Ocean forced Lady Myra Davenport to shield her eyes from the blinding glare so
she could admire the sight of her naked slave sunbathing just a few meters away on the
deck of their borrowed yacht. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue as her
gaze followed the curves of the younger woman`s figure, starting at the painted tips of
her toes and moving upward along those sculpted legs, across her remarkably flat belly, to
linger for several delicious moments on the swell of her bosom. Days spent like today,
basking in the Brazilian sun, had given her slave a rich bronze color from top to bottom
with no hint of a tan line anywhere on her luscious body. Leaning back in her deckchair,
Myra permitted herself a quiet but dreamy sigh. She never tired of looking at Amber, no
matter how often she did so. The woman embodied perfection. Like a painting hanging in
the Louvre, Amber was a work of art that never ceased to inspire awe, a masterpiece that
delighted no end.
How did I get so lucky, Myra wondered thoughtfully.
A thin smile touched her lips as she thought back to that night at auction, when she`d
first laid eyes on Amber. Of course, at the time, she had no idea what the woman`s name
was when she`d been led onto the auction block, naked, cuffed, just another lot up for
sale, but Myra knew Amber was special. She could tell. Something about the woman called
to her, made places low on her body ache with a need Myra had never felt before. Just one
look at Amber was all she needed, and Myra knew at once she had to have her, no matter the
cost. Whatever it took to make that woman hers, Myra had been willing to pay it. It was
the best money she`d ever spent.
But she could not possibly have envisioned what Amber would come to mean to her, what
path their relationship would eventually take, where it would ultimately lead them. Even
now there were times when it took Myra by surprise. She half-expected to wake up one
morning and find it was all a dream, teasing her with the life she so wanted, only to pull
it out from under her as cruel reality set in. Myra vowed to savor every moment, just in
case her fears proved true. If it were a dream, the memory of which would haunt her for
the rest of her days, she wanted to make the most of it while she was still in its
delusional clutches. And if it wasn`t a dream? Even better.
Myra noticed her slave shifting position on the deck and perked up a little, watching
with keen interest as Amber`s well-tanned thighs parted just enough for sunlight to
reflect off the gold ring that pierced the pink flesh of the other woman`s cuntlips. In
reflex, Myra used her thumb to caress the matching band of gold that encircled her ring
finger. The smoothness of it was a reminder of yet another step she and Amber had taken
down their path together, a joyous and momentous step that left Myra breathless whenever
she thought of it – she thought of it often – but then she thought of Amber often. Seldom
did a moment pass by when the naked woman sunning herself on the deck of the yacht didn`t
occupy her thoughts. Memories of the claiming ceremony filled her mind more than most
others. Nothing in her life touched Myra more profoundly than making Amber hers for all
time, in all ways. It had been, without a doubt, the happiest day of her life.
Spying the pink of her slave`s pussy left her own cunt aching for attention. Myra made a
noise low in her throat, like one animal warning another it had strayed too close. Her
slave`s eyes immediately fluttered open then Amber turned to look at her, head cocked to
one side, face radiant in the sunshine. The smile Amber gave her sent a shiver of
excitement down Myra`s back. How that woman stirred her passions! She ran the tip of her
tongue across her bottom lip as she watched her slave roll onto all fours with catlike
grace and crawl across the deck, slowly creeping toward her, every movement fluid and
economical, not a single motion wasted. The meager space between them seemed as wide as
the ocean on which their yacht drifted. What was taking Amber so long to reach her? That
talented mouth should have been on her ages ago! Myra thought herself a patient woman,
but where her slave was concerned that patience was thinner than sea air. She fought back
a frustrated whimper and tried to admire the curves of Amber`s lithe body as her slave
came toward her. So lovely. Her slave was so very lovely.
Myra put out her hand as Amber drew closer, then, when the younger woman at last reached
her and nuzzled against her, begging to be petted, she ran her fingers through Amber`s
hair, combing it back behind her ears. In answer her slave purred softly, rubbing against
her, wordlessly but still greedily begging for more attention. Myra found it impossible
to resist her slave. With her fingers in Amber`s hair she made a fist, tightening her
grip, then yanked the other woman`s head back hard. Amber cried out, sounding more
surprised than pained.
Holding on tight, Myra gazed into the other woman`s eyes. "You took your sweet time
getting here." Her voice was hoarse with desire, thick and heavy with need.
"My apologies, Mistress."
"You can make it up to me."
"I hope so, Mistress."
Myra roughly pulled Amber`s mouth to hers, the kiss that soon followed muffling the
pitiful whimper that tried to escape her slave`s pouty lips. The kiss was deep and
passionate, a kiss which filled Myra with the same longing she felt that night so long ago
when she kissed Amber for the first time. The allure of the younger woman`s kiss had not
diminished one bit since Myra had put a collar around the other woman`s neck and a ring
through her netherlips. She tightened her grip in Amber`s hair and the kiss deepened
further, their mutual desire blossoming under the afternoon sun. The dark-haired woman`s
wagging tongue found hers, teasing a moan out of her, leaving Myra frantic to have that
capable tongue elsewhere. She managed to keep her impatience in check and savored the
hunger of the kiss, capturing Amber`s tongue with her teeth and giving it a little nip.
Now it was her slave who moaned, the hum against her lips feeling incredibly eager to
Myra. Impatience, it seemed, was something she and her slave had in common. Was Amber as
eager to get that mouth elsewhere as Myra was to have it elsewhere? If Myra hadn`t known
the answer already, or if she ever doubted it for a single moment, the way Amber kissed
her would have answered her question with unwavering certainty.
Clutching a handful of dark tresses, Myra pried Amber`s mouth off her. Both of them were
panting for breath in the wake of the kiss. Myra delicately unwove her fingers from her
slave`s silky hair and dragged her thumbnail over the lips she had just kissed, giving
them a hard flick like an exclamation point at the end of sentence. Amber moaned. Under
her slave`s eager gaze, Myra shrugged off the straps of her swimsuit and freed her arms,
stretching a bit before pulling down the front of her bathing suit just far enough to bare
her breast. She cupped the mound of supple flesh in her hand, massaging it, kneading it
with the heel of her palm, using her thumb and forefinger to pinch her nipple. The
pleasure of her own touch was magnified having Amber watch her, and Myra delighted in the
look of both hunger and frustration that fluttered over the woman`s face, knowing her
slave wanted so badly to be the one caressing her tit. Myra had something even better in
mind.
Myra rolled her nipple between her fingers until it was firm, then, holding her breast in
her hand, offered it to Amber. Her slave wasted no time in accepting the offer, leaning
forward and closing her lips around the firm nub. As her slave began to suckle Myra
breathed a heavy sigh, bringing her free around behind Amber`s head, once more combing her
fingers through that auburn hair. Myra held on tight as Amber kissed and licked her
breast, circling her nipple with the very tip of that agile tongue before sucking on it
again. With the sun warm against her face, Myra reveled in the delicious feel of Amber`s
soft, wet mouth around her tit, sucking ardently, biting lightly, every nip and nibble
making her cunt twitch with need. Rubbing her thighs together provided a bit of relief to
the nagging itch between her legs, but the more attention Amber paid to her breasts, the
more attention her pussy wanted, as if it were jealous of the kisses her breasts enjoyed.
Myra let go of her breast and slid a hand down between her legs, rubbing her slit through
the front of her swimsuit. She could feel how swollen with desire her cuntlips had
become, and traced the shape of them with the pads of her first two fingers, the small
circles she made coupled with the hungry mouth still at her breast sending tremors of
pleasure through her entire body.
"Mmmm," Myra purred. She rubbed herself a little harder, pressing the tips of
her fingers into the crotch of her swimsuit, sliding back and forth, trying to keep pace
with the insatiable appetite of a slave who probably would have been content suckling at
her breast all afternoon. That idea held much appeal, but right now, Myra wanted Amber`s
eager mouth other places, places lower on her body. She practically had to pry Amber`s
mouth away from her tit, pulling her slave by the hair, watching her nipple slide out from
between the other woman`s lips with a soft plop. The red that tinged Amber`s cheeks had
little to do with sunburn, Myra suspected. She stared into her slave`s eyes.
"Pleasure me," Myra whispered.
Amber nodded. "Yes, Mistress."
Crawling backward alongside the deck chair, Amber moved into a position better suited to
going down on her. Instead of wasting time helping her out of her bathing suit, her
impatient slave pulled the crotch of her suit down and to one side to get at her. Myra
approved. Planting one foot on the deck of the yacht, Myra raised the other over Amber`s
shoulder, spreading herself open, giving her slave plenty of room to maneuver. The
dark-haired woman quickly took advantage, hurriedly getting her face between her legs. The
mouth that had been so busy at her breast was now pressed against her cunt and Myra
groaned, arching her hips a little, grinding herself against her slave`s face. Amber was
so good at this – so very, very good. The best she had ever had. Amber`s tongue swirled
around inside, licking down the walls of her pussy, coaxing one moan after another out of
her like a magician pulling a long, multicolored handkerchief out of a white-gloved fist.
Tightening her grip in Amber`s hair even more, Myra held on for dear life as her slave`s
tongue dipped into her again and again, teasing her clit, making her shiver under the hot
sun.
Myra could not imagine growing tired of having Amber`s mouth on her pussy. She could –
and had – keep it there day and night. Pleasure tickled her entire body, spreading across
her like fire. Amber sucked on her cuntlips, taking them into her mouth, kissing and
biting them until Myra felt dizzy. She could feel her climax building, and for a moment
was tempted to have Amber slow down, draw it out more, but the thought of coming all over
the other woman`s face was too enticing for her to put off much longer. Myra rocked her
hips against Amber`s face, using her body to express what she was too breathless to say
with words. Her slave got the message, flicking her tongue over Myra`s clit before taking
it between her lips and sucking it. The pressure in Myra`s belly became almost unbearable
as she reached her peak, then with an aching moan, she came hard, hips bucking out of
control. She held Amber by the hair and rubbed the other woman`s face in her cunt as an
orgasm rumbled through her, keeping Amber there until the last aftershock had become a
pleasant memory.
The feel of Amber`s face resting against her belly lured Myra back to reality. She
opened her eyes and looked down at her slave. The other woman`s face glistened with her
wetness. The urge to lick Amber`s face clean was a temptation she resisted for a change.
"How comfortable you look," Myra observed.
"Mmm," Amber purred. "Very."
Myra arched one brow. "Oh? On your feet."
"Yes, Mistress."
As she pulled her bathing suit back up Myra watched Amber stand. Her dark-haired slave
stood beside the deck chair like a bronze statue, shoulders back, breasts thrust forward
just begging for attention. Somehow Myra resisted the urge to get her mouth around one of
those luscious breasts. Instead she beckoned her slave closer with a crooked finger.
Amber complied without comment. Smiling, Myra ran her fingers up the other woman`s inner
thigh, searching and ultimately finding the gold ring through Amber`s cuntlips. It had
taken a little time for her slave to heal after the claiming ceremony, something that put
a crimp in the first few weeks of their honeymoon, but it was well worth it. Myra poked
the tip of her finger through the band of gold and pulled it down slightly, something she
couldn`t have done when she and Amber first arrived in Rio. But she could now, and when
she did her slave moaned softly in answer, but otherwise remained still. Myra tugged and
stretched the folds of the other woman`s cunt, a cunt that was unequivocally hers to do
with as she pleased, and what pleased her most right now was to have her fingers inside
its warm depths.
Myra thrust two fingers up Amber`s pussy, hard and deep, watching her fingers disappear
between those slick folds. She slid in and out, fucking her slave underhand so she could
caress the underbelly of the other woman`s clit from the inside. Amber gasped and sighed
above her, putting one hand on the back of the deck chair to steady herself as Myra pumped
her fingers in and out of that wet hole, faster and faster, feeling Amber`s pussy clench
around her fingers, gripping her tightly, drawing her in deeper still. She used her thumb
to work her slave`s clit from the outside while her fingers continued to massage it from
within, grinding it between her fingers and thumb until she could feel the first spasms of
orgasm. Would she finish her slave off now or make her wait until later? Myra looked up
at her slave and grinned as if she were seriously considering the latter. The doe-eyed
look that came over the other woman`s face was so pitiful and needy Myra felt a pang of
sympathy in her chest. She held Amber`s gaze until she saw a bead of sweat form at her
lover`s temple, then clamped down hard on the other woman`s clit, taking hold of it, as if
she could squeeze the orgasm right out of Amber`s cunt – which she did. Her slave came
with a groan loud enough to be heard back on shore. Myra held onto Amber`s clit until the
last tremors of climax subsided, then pulled her fingers out, glancing down at them,
admiring the shine Amber`s juices gave them.
"Go below," Myra said, glancing up at her slave, "and put some clothes on.
We`re heading in."
"Yes, Mistress."
Myra permitted herself a sappy grin as she watched her naked slave disappear into the
cabin, but once her slave was out of sight, she got down to the business of getting them
back to the marina. She pulled up anchor and got the motor humming, deftly steering their
yacht toward shore. Myra loved being at the helm of a boat. It came naturally. Growing
up on Cape Cod, Myra learned how to sail before she learned how to drive. It was in her
blood. Some of her fondest childhood memories involved being at sea with her parents,
taking the wheel for the first time, learning how to get a feel for the ocean around her.
The sea could not be tamed; it was too vast and too powerful to be whipped into
submission. The person who tried, found themselves in a hopeless, futile struggle. Myra
knew the secret was to work with the ocean, not against it. She didn`t fight it, but she
didn`t fear it either. The sea couldn`t be controlled, but it could be managed, handled.
These were the lessons Myra had been taught in her youth, and she always applied them to
more things in her life than just sailing.
The jagged skyline of Barra da Tijuca loomed larger, the closer Myra guided their yacht
to shore. Somewhere beyond those towering highrise apartments and deluxe hotels, Myra
knew there were those who lived in a kind of poverty she couldn`t even begin to
understand, entire families crowded together in favelas, barely surviving, but from where
she stood at the wheel of their yacht, surrounded by pristine blue waters with the city
sprawled out before her, the squalor of Rio might as well have been on another world.
Myra shook the depressing thought out of her head. What she could do for them, she had
done. There was no point in dwelling on things beyond her power to control. Instead Myra
focused on steering the yacht into the marina, navigating the modest boat into the slip
reserved for them. She cut the engine and let the yacht drift the last few feet to the
dock, pleased with herself and the fact she hadn`t lost her touch when it came to sailing.
There were other nautical skills Myra had learned as a little girl that she used in other
aspects of her life, and she utilized one of them as she secured the yacht to the dock,
tying knots her slave could never have gotten free of no matter how much she squirmed and
pulled.
Even as Myra`s belly gave a little roll at the thought of tying Amber up with a
sheepshank, the dark haired woman emerged from below deck. Her once naked slave had put
on a lemon colored short-sleeved blouse and a pair of white cotton shorts that were
noticeably lacking a panty line. She looked positively scrumptious. Myra didn`t even
attempt to mute her reaction, grunting like an animal, the hunger coursing through her
entire body, quickly converging between her legs. It would have been impossible to get
Amber back to their apartment soon enough. Her shirt was hanging on the back of the deck
chair. Myra picked it up and slipped it on, sliding her feet into a pair of white canvas
shoes. When she had her bag slung over her shoulder she was set.
"Ready?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Let`s go."
Though Myra had a car and driver at her disposal while she was in Rio, she much preferred
to walk if the weather permitted. Their apartment wasn`t that far from the marina, and it
gave her and Amber the chance to soak up the local flavor. Since the weather was more
than cooperative at the moment, Myra took Amber`s hand in hers and held it tight as the
two of them casually walked down the crowded streets of Barra de Tijuca. Street vendors
hawked their wares, barking at passers-by, offering everything from fresh fruit to
handmade jewelry. The air was thick with the smell of cooking food from the many
cafés and restaurants lining the streets. Having a little something to eat besides
her slave did sound like a great idea, but Myra was too eager to get Amber back to the
apartment to spend an hour or more in a restaurant. Passing a small corner grocery store
gave Myra an idea. She pulled Amber off to the side.
"I want to pick up a few things," Myra told her slave. "Wait for me out
here."
"Yes, ma`am," Amber said.
Myra smiled. She gave her slave a quick peck on the cheek then headed into the store.
It wasn`t much, but it would have what she needed. Grabbing a basket, Myra made her way
through the store, grabbing various foods she could use to cook a nice, quiet – and
private – dinner where dress would not just be optional but non-existent. Thinking about
it made her giddy. It had been a long time since she cooked for someone, and she looked
forward to it and the evening she and Amber would have together. It was all well and good
to dine in the best restaurants and stay out until the wee hours of the morning, but there
was more to be said about a quiet evening together, having a simple meal, making love
until they collapsed in each other`s arms in exhaustion. How perfect. Myra took her
basket of groceries up to the counter, pleased with her choices, impatient to get home and
begin the evening she was planning. It was going to be wonderful.
Clutching a brown paper bag overflowing with food, Myra emerged from the store with a
grin that stretched from ear to ear. The grin faltered slightly when she didn`t find
Amber where she`d left her. Fear tightened her gut. Myra tried hard not to panic, tried
not to think the worst. She looked up and down the block, frantically scanning the sea of
faces in search of her slave. The more she looked around and didn`t find Amber, the more
anxious Myra became, and the more it felt like she had swallowed a box of nails. Where
the hell was her slave?
Just as panic threatened to consume her completely, the throng of pedestrian traffic
cleared a little and Myra spotted her slave a little bit further down the street where a
vendor selling beach-related sundries had set up shop for the day. The void left behind
when her panic ebbed was quickly replaced with other feelings that made her brow furrow
and narrowed her eyes to mere slits. From that short distance away Myra watched her slave
talking with the woman working the stand, a dark-skinned Latina woman with long black hair
pulled back into a ponytail. Both Amber and the local woman were laughing at something,
and though Myra had no idea what, her gut tightened as if the two of them were laughing at
her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and carried her bag of groceries over to the
vendor`s small stand. Now that she was closer, Myra could see just how attractive the
Latina was – and just how young. The woman was at least Amber`s age. She had on a low cut
top that showed off a lot of cleavage as well as the tattoo over her left breast. Maybe
it was her imagination, but it seemed like Amber couldn`t stop looking down at the
tattoo.
"Here you are," Myra said.
Amber stopped laughing at once and looked up, unmistakably surprised to see her Mistress
standing there. Despite hours in the sun, the color seemed to drain from the other
woman`s face.
"I`m sorry, Mistress," Amber said. "I didn`t think you`d finish shopping
so quickly."
"Clearly."
The tone in her voice made Amber wince as if she had been slapped across the face. Myra
glared at her slave until the younger woman sullenly bowed her head. Myra then headed
off, not even looking to see if Amber fell into step beside her, but she could feel her
slave close to her, felt the heat of her body, smelled the familiar scent of the shampoo
she used. Myra said nothing, just marched down the street clutching the bag of groceries
to her chest, trying not to let anger get the best of her. It wasn`t easy. What business
did Amber have talking to that young woman? What had those two been laughing about,
anyway? Thinking about it, visualizing them together, made her blood boil. She tried to
clear her mind, taking deep breaths as she walked, clutching the bag of groceries even
tighter against her chest. There was no doubt the Latina woman was very beautiful. No
doubt at all.
Their home since flying down to Rio had been the penthouse apartment of the tallest
residential building in Barra de Tijuca. Myra swiped her card key in the electronic lock
on the lobby doors and waited for the familiar click that signaled she could continue.
She tapped her foot impatiently waiting for it, and when it finally came, Myra rushed
through the doors and made a beeline for the private elevator that went up to the
penthouse. She knew Amber was close on her heels, but again Myra refused to look in her
slave`s direction.
Since the private elevator was only for the penthouse, it should have been waiting for
them when she and Amber got there, but it wasn`t. That only added to Myra`s frustration.
She pushed the button for the elevator and waited, staring straight ahead, gritting her
teeth, cursing the slowness of the conveyance, and thinking of a few choice words she
wanted to give the superintendent who oversaw maintenance, and whose job it was to make
sure things there worked properly. Did that Latina woman have to be so damn young and
beautiful?
After what seemed like forever the elevator pinged open. Myra hopped inside. She
hastily pushed the only button, thinking she could have run up the stairs faster than the
damn elevator was moving right now. With a soft bump the lift began its ascent, rising at
a crawl, creeping like a timid little mouse approaching a crumb of cheese.
"I`m sorry, Mistress."
The words were spoken softly, just a hairsbreadth above a whisper, yet seemed to echo in
the elevator like thunder. Myra took a deep breath and released it slowly.
"When I tell you to wait for me," Myra began, "I expect to find you
waiting in the same spot where I left you. Is that clear? You are not to move a single
inch, and you certainly are not to wander off."
"Yes, Mistress," Amber replied. "I`m sorry. Please. Forgive me."
Myra could hear the strain in the other woman`s voice. She knew if she turned to look at
her slave she would find tears in Amber`s eyes. Instead, she kept her gaze on the doors
in front of her, as if by sheer will she could make the elevator move faster, make the
doors part to let her out. Her will might be strong, determined, it couldn`t make the
elevator move any faster. So the two of them stood there, their silence growing
increasingly uncomfortable, the tension between them getting thicker until Myra could have
choked on its bitter taste. Part of her wanted to drop the bag of groceries and pull
Amber into her arms, but she did neither of those things. She clutched the bag tight,
staring at the metal doors in front of her until, finally, the elevator jerked to a stop
and the doors opened and let her out.
The foyer echoed with the sound of her plodding footsteps as Myra stomped her way to the
kitchen with her groceries. Her plans for that night, which seemed so enticing just a
short time ago, now held no appeal. She didn`t care if the food she bought went uneaten
and rotted, which was why she didn`t even bother to put them away. Myra set the bag down
on the counter, though she might as well have just dumped it right in the garbage.
Whatever appetite she had for food or anything else, was gone. She doubted anything could
lift her mood.
While it was fresh on her mind, Myra wanted to call downstairs and complain about the
elevator. For what she was paying, she didn`t think she should have to put up with faulty
equipment – especially not in a building so new and lavish. She kicked off her shoes and
padded into the living room, fully intending to give the manager an earful. When Myra
reached the living room it became moot. She realized in a heartbeat the elevator had not
been malfunctioning at all. The reason the elevator had not been down in the lobby as it
should have been was sprawled across the sofa wearing a loosely-fastened robe that did
such a poor job of covering the naked body underneath, it wasn`t really necessary at all.
The Countess Natasha Pavlovna was a regal woman, with a classic beauty that only seemed
to get better with age. Myra didn`t know how such a thing was possible, and while she was
envious, she was hardly about to complain about it either. There were no conventional
terms to describe her relationship with the Countess, and she had long ago given up trying
to explain it with mere words. She and Tasha were more than friends, more than lovers.
The bond between them ran deeper than most could understand. It was a bond that could not
be broken. Nothing could ever come between them. Before Myra had claimed Amber, Tasha
was the only person about whom she could say that with absolute certainty. Perhaps their
mistress, Lady Carrington, might have fallen into that category as well. Perhaps.
But there were no others.
Not even the naked woman kneeling on the floor near Tasha`s feet, though Myra was
incredibly fond of Darian and trusted her more than most. She had always been a bit taken
with Darian Winter. How could she not be? The platinum blonde was an incredibly talented
opera singer, and unbelievably gorgeous on top of that. Neither she nor her slave seemed
able to get enough of her. Though Darian had only been her slave for a short period of
time before Myra hatched a scheme to bring her and Tasha together, it was a time she would
always look back on with great affection. There were moments when Myra wondered, had she
never met Amber that night at auction, if Darian might not be her slave now instead. It
was hardly outside the realm of possibility, but while it was amusing to consider now and
then, Myra had no doubt whatsoever Tasha and Darian were meant for each other, just as she
and Amber were meant to be Mistress and slave. Everything was exactly the way it should
have been. Besides, since she and Tasha were so close by default, Darian was close at
hand too. That worked out well for all concerned.
"Surprise," Tasha said.
Myra returned the grin Tasha flashed her. It was indeed a surprise, though a very
pleasant one. She hadn`t seen or even talked to the Countess since the claiming ceremony
weeks before. It seemed much longer at the moment. The Countess was definitely a sight
for her sore eyes. Instantly her mood was lifted, and the anger she felt seconds before,
evaporated like early morning fog at dawn. In the time it took Myra to cross the living
room Tasha stood to greet her. The robe she almost wore fell open even more to give her a
more tantalizing glimpse of Tasha`s body, which was as familiar to her as her own, yet
still as exciting to her as the first time she ever explored it with her mouth and hands.
Myra pulled Tasha into her arms and held her close, enjoying the feel of the other woman`s
body pressed against hers. Impatient hands moved under her shirt and slid up her back,
quickly finding the skin her swimsuit didn`t cover. Myra answered by reaching inside
Tasha`s robe, sliding her hand over the curve of the other woman`s breast, cupping and
squeezing it, brushing her thumb over an already stiffened nipple. The Countess moaned
softly, turning and offering up her lips for a kiss. In all the years Myra had known
Tasha she had never been able to resist kissing her, and this time was no exception. She
captured Tasha`s lips with hers, kissing them deeply, hungrily, the only kind of kiss she
and Tasha ever seemed to share. The deeper their kiss the more impatient the hands on her
back became, moving up and down, over the round of her ass then back up to her shoulders.
Myra kept pace, groping Tasha`s breast, rolling her lover`s nipple between her fingers,
pinching it a little until the Countess moaned again.
The need to breathe put a wedge between them and pried them apart. Both of them stood
there in the middle of the living room, winded, panting for breath. Myra laughed and
Tasha joined her, the two of them giggling like teenagers at a slumber party.
"My god," Myra whispered. "It`s so good to see you."
"Mmmm," Tasha murmured. She seemed distracted suddenly by something on the
other side of the room. "It`s good to see you, too, dear. Is everything all
right?"
Myra turned to see exactly what had caught Tasha`s attention and found Amber standing in
the doorway, pouting. She was so happy to see the Countess she had almost forgotten about
the impudence her slave had shown on the street, but the image of Amber and the Latina
woman sharing a laugh filled her mind again, and with it came frustration.
"Apparently," Myra began, "my dear, darling slave has forgotten how to
stay put when told."
"Oh?"
"Mmhmm," Myra purred. "She seems easily distracted by the local …
scenery."
"The scenery here is very pretty," Tasha remarked.
Myra nodded. "Yes."
"But that`s still no excuse for such insolence."
"No," Myra said, "it isn`t."
"What to do, what to do."
"Suggestions?"
The Countess thought about that then smiled wickedly. "Come here, slave.
Now!"
Amber hurried to obey, very quickly crossing the room and dropping to her knees to place
a kiss on Tasha`s foot. It gave Myra a rush of pride to see her slave accord the Countess
the respect she deserved, even if she was upset with Amber at the moment. At least her
slave hadn`t completely forgotten her manners!
"So," Tasha said, her tone devilishly playful, "you have a problem staying
put today, do you, little one?"
"Yes, Countess."
"We shall see," Tasha replied. "Get a chair from the dining room and
bring it here."
"Yes, Countess."
Giving Tasha`s foot one more kiss, Amber stood and headed for the connecting dining room.
Myra smiled as she watched her go. She knew exactly what Tasha had in mind and approved
wholeheartedly of the punishment she had devised. It was just what her slave needed.
Myra thought about it. Perhaps she had gone a little too easy on Amber these last few
weeks. It was possible. The claiming ceremony had been very emotional, and Myra found
herself swept up in the romance of it all. Had she gone soft? She didn`t think so, but
the behavior she saw in her slave today gave her pause. Maybe it was time the honeymoon
ended, time to return to a more disciplined routine.
Myra glanced down at the woman still kneeling near Tasha`s feet and smiled. Now there
was an obedient slave. She couldn`t have been happier for Tasha. Or for Darian. The two
of them were absolutely perfect for each other. Myra wanted only the best for the both of
them, and she was sure both of them had gotten just that.
"It`s good to see you, Darian."
"Thank you, Lady Davenport," the blonde replied.
"Now, really, my pet," Tasha said, "you can greet Mistress Davenport
better than that."
"Yes, Ma`am."
Given Darian`s position on the floor, she only had to shift slightly to press her lips to
the top of Myra`s foot. Myra moaned softly as the blonde began to kiss and lick her foot,
moving down the side and along the instep lavishing her feet with loving kisses, first the
right then the left. Darian was just starting on her toes when Amber returned with one of
the high-backed wooden chairs that were arranged around the circular dining room table.
"Put it down right there," the Countess instructed, pointing to a spot near the
corner of the sofa, "and have a seat."
"Yes, Countess."
When Amber was settled, Tasha grinned and told her, sternly, "You will not move.
You will not make a sound. Is the understood?"
"Yes, Countess."
"So she can listen," Myra observed.
The Countess grunted. "We shall see. Now. Where were we?"
Myra said, "Your slave was properly greeting me."
"Ah, yes. By all means, continue." Though Darian had never actually stopped.
Even as Tasha barked out orders to Amber, the blonde had been placing delicate kisses on
each of Myra`s toes. The kisses were steadily becoming less delicate, until Darian
sucked on the very tips, teasing them with a wagging tongue as she did so. The
combination left Myra weak in the knees. Tasha must have sensed her imminent collapse
because the Countess eased her down on the sofa. Getting comfortable, Myra watched Tasha
shrug off the robe she had on before joining her. As soon as the Countess was sitting
beside her the two of them were kissing again, deeply, hungrily, kisses that spoke of
their dire need for each other, a need that had gone unmet for several weeks, but would be
taken care of soon.
Eager hands pushed the shirt off her shoulders and tossed it behind the sofa. Those same
hands then began to paw at her breasts, groping them through her swimsuit. Myra groaned
into the kiss, arching her back, pushing more of herself into Tasha`s grasp, yearning for
her caress. At her feet Darian was busier than ever. Now that Myra was sitting down, the
blonde could actually lift up her foot, giving her better access to it, allowing her to
get that lush mouth completely around her toes now, sucking them, one … even two at a
time, sliding her lips over each toe. It felt so good! Almost good enough to distract
her from the fact that Tasha was pulling her swimsuit down. Almost … but not quite.
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