Foreign Exchange (The Concubine Chronicles Book 1) (3 page)

BOOK: Foreign Exchange (The Concubine Chronicles Book 1)
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"This to widen you," she said, pointing to one end, "and this to prevent you from swallowing it, if your anus proves particularly hungry," she added, pointing to the other.

A streamer of drool had already begun to drip from Liera's mouth.  Jalah stood, wiped the ginger in Liera's saliva, and then spun her around, and worked it into her ass.

At first, it hurt a little, because it was wide, but it felt cool.  Then there was a tingle, and a growing heat.  Liera whined, tried to shake it loose.

"There, you see?  Such delightful squirming."  Then she put two fingers into Liera's cunt.  "And the fluttering of the muscles here.  Oh, Maash is very foolish not to use this on you; I am sure it would make her very happy."

Liera moaned and twisted.  It hurt, it burned, she wanted it out.

"Now this," said Jalah, "I fear that Maash would be too soft-hearted for."  She unstoppered the bottle, and there was a sudden, pungent smell of pepper.  She poured a generous dollop onto the square of cloth, and worked it in.  "I am merely using it because I enjoy watching you cry.  And perhaps it shall make you spoil the lime; it is an excellent test for you."

She attached another length of gold chain to the back of the belt, looped it around the ginger, and brought it up between Liera's legs.  "Now," she said.  "Tell me that you wish this upon your lovely little pussy, piglet."

Liera didn't want it on her.  She really didn't.  "Ess laey, Aank ou laey," she said, and flushed.

"So charming," said Jalah, patting her pussy.  "I really must think of how to thank Maash for her loan." Jalah's fingers came away wet.  "Your reward will wait until my husband's return, of course."  She laid the cloth in place, pulled the chain taut, and fastened it.

She looked up at Liera with a question on her face.  A moment of anxiety, and then Liera screamed around the green lemon in her mouth.

"Yes," said Jalah, standing on her tiptoes to look into Liera's eyes.  "It is quite lovely, isn't it."

It was as though she had been lit on fire.  The ginger still hurt, she still wanted it out, but this was like nothing she'd ever felt.  Liera kicked her legs off the ground, twisted, shook, but the chain held the cloth in place.  Another scream.

"Unfortunately, the intensity will diminish.  And since you have to return to Maash so soon, I cannot keep applying it until you are broken down."  She sighed, and turned back to her work.

Liera twisted, pulled, sobbed.  It hurt like nothing Maash had ever done to her.  It wasn't a fun hurt; this was serious, and if she could've gotten it off, she would've.  But she couldn't.  Slowly, she stopped twisting, hung in her chains, her face and chest covered in drool and tears and snot and sweat.

As Jalah had said, it gradually got less intense, more bearable. And while the ginger also still hurt, it also hurt less.  Eventually, Liera just hung in her chains, her pussy sore and burning, her ass stretched and with a fire there as well.  Jalah was using pliers to twist gold threads into curves and circles, snipping off each fragment, putting it precisely into place with a single, sure movement.

It wasn't a fun hurt, but there was something to the idea of Jalah breaking her down completely, and then putting her back together the way she wanted.  From time to time, Jalah looked up from her work, and smiled at Liera's moans and sobs.  Eventually, she decided that the piece was finished; she put a layer of golden powder over it, and then took out a blowtorch.

"A light hand is required with this," she said.  "Enough to melt, but not sufficient to ruin."

It was a light pass, and the powder was gone, and the opal was seated in its nest of filagree.  "Yes," said Jalah,  "At last correct.  And next, you have to be cleaned and decorated.  Appealing as you look now, this appearance is not to my husband's taste."

She took the green lemon from Liera's mouth, wiped it on her shoulder, which was one of the few places where she wasn't covered in fluids.  "Yes, let us see.  There are some bruises on the skin of the lime."  She flicked Liera's nipple.  "Naughty!  If you touch my husband's member with your teeth, Maash will receive a disappointing report.  But you have not broken the skin.  It seems that I will not need to apply the retractors."

The hook dropped with a click and a whir, and Liera was once again on her hands and knees.

"Please, lady?" she said, when she had her breath back.

"Yes?" asked Jalah.

"Please may I kiss you?" asked Liera.  "Just your hands, or your feet," she added quickly.  "Please?"

Jalah squatted down beside her, rubbed below and to the side of Liera's eye with her thumb, clearing away the tears.  "You have been a lovely little piglet.  Very slippy, very noisy."  She held up her other hand.  "Very well.  You may kiss my hand."

Liera touched the back of Jalah's hand with her lips, lightly.  Then she brushed it with her tongue, and was rewarded with a stinging slap.

"Greedy girl!" said Jalah.  "You have permission for one thing, do not attempt another."  She rose, brushed her hands on her skirt.  "And we must not delay your bath.  Come along."

This time, Liera didn't have to be told to crawl.  It was the most natural thing, to follow behind Jalah on her hands and knees, to watch her shoes and the hem of her skirt, and try to keep pace, and to be encouraged with slaps when Jalah was forced to slow to keep up.

Ralaathi baths were elaborate affairs, and the Krin's bath was no exception.  There were two steps down to the bath itself, but there was an expanse of marble tile between the door and the bath, with counters and cabinets, and mirrors and perfumes.  And there was another hook hanging from the ceiling, and a metal framework folded into the corner.

"Yes," said Jalah.  "It is often pleasant to have a girl writhing for me while I bathe; it is very soothing.  But I fear there is not time for that today; my husband shall soon return."  Jalah unhooked the chain that went across Liera's crotch, holding the square of cloth and length of ginger in place.

Liera felt as though she'd been taken out of a fire.  The cloth had stopped hurting, mostly, but then she'd started moving and it started again.  She sighed, and then Jalah pinched her clit, hard.  It was so sensitive that there were immediately tears at the corners of her eyes.  But she didn't pull away; she ground down, moaned.

"Very nice," said Jalah.  "Just as I said; what is approaching will delight my husband."  A small pat on her pussy.  "Just a hint of perfume there, after you are bathed.  But as for the other. . . "

She took the length of ginger out, tossed it into the trash.  "It shall have to be cleaned; it is not, at the moment, a fitting receptacle."

Jalah unfolded the framework and strapped Liera to it on her hands and knees, with a few quick, certain movements.  Much like working with gold, this was a thing that Jalah had done many times, and was expert at.

Another light pat on her pussy, and then something pushed into her ass.  It went in easily enough, but she was still sore from the ginger.  It went further in.  "We shall start with water," said Jalah.  "There shall be time for other treatment soon."

There was a gurgling, and the strangest feeling in Liera's bowels.  She whined and looked up at Jalah.

"Oh, do not tell me that Maash has never cleaned you out!" she said.  "She is a charming young lady, but she has been sadly neglectful.  I really must speak to her!"

It didn't really answer Liera's whine, but she didn't really expect an answer to that.  After a time, Jalah removed the hose from her ass, and put something else in, wide and hard.

"There.  You must hold it while it does its work."  She knelt, held Liera's chin in her hand, tilted it one way, then another.   "Well, at least the ears are pierced.  Rubies, I think.  And coral, but the lighter corals."

"Lady?" asked Liera.  "Please?  My stomach hurts."

"Of course it does," said Jalah.  "You are over a drain; when it is time, you will be allowed to void.  For now, perhaps you need a distraction."

Her stomach twisted in pain, but she couldn't help but respond to Jalah's hand; if she'd been allowed to come, maybe, but . . . Liera groaned, closed her eyes.

A slap.  "Eyes open, piglet!"  said Jalah.  "You will be stimulated when my husband is using you, and you shall look at him then."

Liera opened her eyes, looked across at the bathroom, at the steam rising up from the tub, at the cabinets, at the marble and glass and amethyst and gold.  Jalah was not bringing her to orgasm, not quite, but kept going closer and closer.  "Smile," she said, and Liera tried; the intensity of her pain, of her pleasure kept pulling her mouth open, making her features blank, but Jalah set a mirror in front of her, forced her to watch, to keep pulling her mouth up into a rictus that approximated a smile.

"Very good," said Jalah, after a while.  "See, a distraction, and some education; exactly what was needed."  Then she pulled out the stopper, and Liera's bowels emptied with a foul smell, and wetness on her legs.

"There, yes, you see?" said Jalah.  "You had been given too much food, and now you are emptied out.  So much better."

She sprayed Liera's ass and legs with a hose, then the tiles behind her, and the smell of shit faded.  "The next one will be larger, of course.  But cleaner."

It was.  And Liera had to hold it for longer, her stomach distended as she ground against Jalah's hand, tried to smile, tried to get some sort of release.  The one after that was small, but hurt more; what came out when it was done smelled faintly floral.

"And that is that.  So lovely now," said Jalah, running her finger around the rim of Liera's asshole.  "And still nicely taut, though not overly shut.  I am sure you will give great pleasure.  Once you are cleaned!"

A few quick twists of screws and loosening of chains, and Liera was freed of the framework.  Then Jalah gripped her by the ankle, turned and twisted, and threw Liera into the bath.

"Yes, very good," she said, as Liera surfaced, gasping for breath, and threw a sponge at her face.  "Do not take long," she said.  "You are marginally cleaner, but not yet decorated.  I shall return shortly; be clean, when I do."

Liera scrubbed as quickly as she could, washing her hair, scrubbing her arms and legs and behind her ears.  Being cleaned out on the framework had not been pleasant, but it had . . . the hook in Jalah's studio hadn't been pleasant, but it had . . . she wanted to do what Jalah wanted, as well as she could.

When Jalah returned, she tshed impatiently.  "No, not still in the bath.  On the frame, piglet."

Liera dashed out of the warm tub to drop on the cold metal.  Jalah fastened her into place, and then started putting things on her; gold chains and silver chains, rubies and sapphires.  Each time, she was unsatisfied.  "No," she said, time after time.  "Not the color, or perhaps not the . . .  there is something that I do not see."

Finally she squatted down, cupped Liera's chin in her fingers, and slapped her face, with a look of cool consideration.  "Yes!  Of course the silver and the jewels do not suit you, piglet!  No, come, I shall get you what you need."

Jalah went to one of the cabinets, and pulled out lengths of iron chain, black, heavy.  "Yes, you see?  Silver and gold for girls who are not quite so excited by being raped by an endless stream of servants, iron chains for girls like you.  Heavy, yes, but properly decorative.  And how they set off your skin," she added, fastening a manacle around Liera's ankle.

"Now, of course, you are not a porter's slave, or a girl for the use of the staff of a kitchen.  So perhaps a small jewel, here and there, a bit of gold."

She wrapped chains around Liera's chest, biting into her breasts, restricting her breathing.  Her wrists and ankles were manacled, and the chains running between them left her with less than a foot of slack.  And she wore a golden tiara with a ruby that dangled down to her forehead, a golden cuff on her calf, just above her manacle, and then a single ruby attached by a short gold chain to a wicked spring clip that Jalah hung from her left nipple; the one she seemed to like pinching.

"It is cruel of Maash not to have you pierced," said Jalah.  "Now this hurts more than it needs to."  She unfastened the straps, pulled Liera to her feet, over to a mirror.  "See how delightful you look?

Her breasts were squeezed by the iron chains, her hands pinned behind her back by Jalah. And she was wearing gold and jewels, iron manacles on her ankles.  Liera blushed, and would have turned aside, if Jalah hadn't held her head in place.  She was cleaned and ornamented, but it was entirely clear that she was an object to be fucked.

"Yes," said Jalah.  "You see.  But let us come to the entrance; my husband will soon be home."

There was a stand ready near the door; Liera climbed up on it, apparently the wrong way around.  Jalah corrected her, attached her elbows and knees.  Her head was at about waist height, and so was her ass.  It was entirely clear what the stand was for, and it was more comfortable than Liera had anticipated; there were velvet cushions for her elbows and thighs, and there was Jalah's hand on her side, light touches all along her flanks, up to her breasts.

"This will hurt a great deal when I remove it," said Jalah, flicking the ruby on her breast.  It hurt a great deal when she flicked it, too.  "But you shall have a cock in your mouth; that is the sort of thing which I am sure shall soothe you."

BOOK: Foreign Exchange (The Concubine Chronicles Book 1)
2.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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