Slave Jade (14 page)

“Banana,” she whispered.

Gilbert handed the slave her banana, and lifted her up into his arms. Carrying her to the mattress, he gently lay her down.

Lisa barely noticed he was moving her, so focused was she on the food, the first she'd had in three Gilbert visits, which was how she marked time now. The time before had only been a few crackers, just enough to awaken a starving belly. Now the soft fruit melted into lovely fragrant pleasure on her tongue. She tried to chew slowly, not knowing when she'd get such a treat again.

As she ate, Gilbert had crouched between her legs. Placing a hand on either thigh, he leaned forward and lightly tongued her labia, just where the lash had cut her. Lisa jerked a little, but didn't try to move away. His tongue actually felt good as it soothed the tortured folds.

Gilbert took his time, licking slowly up and down, twirling his tongue with light butterfly strokes just at her clit. Lisa sighed, a true sigh of pleasure. He licked and kissed her for a long time, pausing and starting again, bringing her to pleasure peaks and pulling back as she started to move her hips and mew with pleasure.

Finally he let the crest of her pleasure spill over, and Lisa shuddered and clutched his head in her hands. It felt wonderful, erasing the lingering hunger in her belly, erasing the stinging lines left from the lash. Eventually her spasms subsided and Lisa lay still, her legs still splayed, her sweet pussy sticky from his kisses and her own arousal.

Gilbert sat back, wiping his mouth, pleased with himself. He saw that Lisa had fallen asleep, a little smile on her face. He had been going to fuck her, but decided to let her sleep. His darling girl needed her rest.

~*~

Why hadn't it occurred to her before? Lisa lay alone in the dark, her belly still reasonably full from the banana. The orgasm Gilbert had given her had been her first physical pleasure in all the time she'd been held in his prison. It had unwound something inside of her. Could she find that pleasure again? Gilbert had never expressly forbidden her from touching herself.

It was such a sweet and easy release. A respite from the constant fear. And the lovely sleep that had overtaken her afterwards—it was the first real rest she'd had. No nightmares had plagued her, and when she woke she almost thought she was in her own comfortable bed at home.

But of course she wasn't. She was still locked in the tiny hot prison, in the dark. Her pussy throbbed lightly from the lash and gingerly she touched it. The skin wasn't broken. Really it wasn't too bad. And she'd gotten the whole banana for it. It had been worth it.

And after the banana, his lovely tongue. He had kissed and soothed her, and then it had changed from soothing to fire. But a lovely fire, broiling up from her loins, spreading out through her body, taking over her nerve endings, and culminating in a shattering release. In fact, Lisa didn't remember ever coming so hard, or for so long.

At the memory, Lisa's fingers began to lightly rub and tease her delicate folds, swirling in toward the little hooded clit, which was peeking out now, begging for attention. Oh, it felt good. Not as good as his tongue. But still lovely. How could she get that tongue back? She wanted to feel his warm, wet tongue.

Bananas and orgasms. Such simple pleasures. Her world was now focused on these pleasures. Her mind was consumed with bananas, water, orgasms. Who had time or energy to plan escape? Later, perhaps, when her mind cleared. For now she would focus on the little things.

Her fingers felt so good. She rubbed harder, after licking them to make them glide easier. “She sliding one inside, smearing the sweet lubrication across her labia and clit. It felt wonderful. She arched up into her hand, moaning quietly as the surge of pleasure coursed through her. She came after just a few minutes, her fingers still tapping across her pussy until the last waves of pleasure had been wrested from her body.

She lay still, aware of the thump-thumping of her heart against her ribs. And then her fingers crawled back down to her still-swollen pussy, and she did it again.

She must have dozed a while, because now she awoke, and her dreams had been charged with erotic feeling. Her clit throbbed, inviting fingers that slipped down and found their mark, eagerly slipping into her pussy, one finger, two, then three. Oh, a cock would be nice. Maybe Gilbert would fuck her later. Yes, fuck her while she rubbed her cunt. This was so good, she barely noticed her empty belly.

The door opened very quietly, and the light was not turned on. Lisa was so engaged her newfound hobby that she didn't hear him as he entered, the light of the hallway spilling in. He stood watching her for a moment. Watching his slut jerking herself off. She was moaning, her head back, her hair wild, obscuring her face.

Gilbert opened his jeans, cradling his fast-growing cock in his hand, pumping slowly as he watched the gorgeous woman playing with herself, oblivious of his presence. She was moaning louder now, in little rapid gasps punctuated by the sway of her hips as she ground herself against her hand.

Gilbert shifted as he watched her, pumping his shaft. Lisa suddenly opened her eyes and saw him there. Startled, and frightened, she slammed her legs shut and half sat up, stammering apologies, her face reddening.

“No,” he said, “Don't stop. I like to see what a complete slut you've become. Your training is working. You are becoming my slut whore, bit by bit, day by day. Aren't you, angel?”

Lisa fell back, relief evident in her face. She even smiled slightly, her fingers dropping back down to her cunt. She looked to him for permission to continue. He gave it. “Go on. Jerk yourself off, slut. Do it like you mean it, and perhaps we'll share a meal together.”

Gilbert stared, not sure he'd heard correctly. This bitch who had resisted him at every turn, whose cunt was dry and unyielding, was actually asking him to fuck her? His cock answered for him and he approached her.

Flipping her over onto her hands and knees, he plunged his erection into her, loving the tight heat of it, the perfect grip of vaginal muscles bringing him almost immediately to orgasm.

He hovered on the edge, not wanting to come so soon, but so aroused by the vision of her playing with herself, her face a study of wanton pleasure, that soon he was spurting and slamming into her, crying her name.

They fell forward together, Lisa's hand still buried in her pussy, and a moment later she too came, though there was no name on her lips.

Lisa was tied to the kitchen table, flat on her back. Her wrists and ankles were tethered with thick nylon ropes to the table legs, her own legs spread wide. Her pussy was just at the edge of the table, right in front of the chair where Gilbert sat. Next to her was a plate of broiled steak, its fat still sizzling, fresh from the pan.

Gilbert cut a small piece and blew on it, watching the steam rise. “Ready?” he asked, and Lisa nodded, tensing her legs slightly, but unable to move. Slowly Gilbert drew the hot piece of meat across her pussy, and pressed it lightly against the vaginal entrance. Lisa grunted and shifted, but couldn't get away. The meat wasn't so hot it would burn her, but it was hot enough to be uncomfortable on her tender sex.

“
There now,” Gilbert said, grinning. “Now you've got some proper sauce. Cunt sauce. They should bottle it. I'd be a millionaire.” He brought the fork up, standing over her so he could reach her mouth. “Open wide, slave.” Lisa's mouth opened like a little bird's. She took the offered meat.

He wiped another piece across her pussy and again brought it to her mouth. While she was chewing the second piece, he leaned down and tongued her cunt for a moment, drawing a sigh of pleasure from the bound girl. He licked her folds, tasting the juice from the steak. Lisa started to gyrate in her bonds, and Gilbert stood up. Not so soon. The cunt would have to earn it.

Propping up her head, he held a glass of red wine to her lips, and Lisa drank it, draining the glass. Gently he set her head back down on the little pillow he'd placed there for her. More meat, dipped in her pussy, and popped into her mouth. He fed her several more pieces, and leaned forward to tongue and tease her cunt until it was swollen and wet. He slid a finger into her and noted with pleasure she was slick with desire.

Unexpectedly, he slapped the wet pussy and Lisa screamed, probably more startled than hurt. Gilbert was becoming a master of mixing the pleasure, the pain, the food, the whip, the cock, the chains. Lisa seemed to respond to all of it more and more easily. She was succumbing to constant sensory overload and he was thrilled.

He poured more wine into her glass. “Lift your head,” he commanded. He held the glass to her mouth and she drank obediently, before letting her head fall heavily to the little pillow.

“How about some dessert? Some ice cream?”

“Yes, please, sir.” Ice cream!

“Coffee fudge,” Gilbert said, going to get it from the freezer. Gilbert remembered from when she’d confided, in her innocence, to Master John. Gilbert had paid attention. He knew her favorite foods, her hobbies, her dreams and desires. Not that any of that mattered now. He’d finally and truly broken her spirit. And now, with steak and ice cream, with whips and chains, with threats and endearments, he’d build her up again.

When he returned to the table, Lisa saw he had more than just the ice cream. He set down a bucket of ice alongside the pint of coffee fudge that was calling her name. Lisa knew at once she had to earn the ice cream. She waited for his decree.

“In order to get the ice cream, I want you nice and frosty, just like this pint of coffee fudge. I'm going to put ice on you, understand? And then you'll get ice cream. Are we agreed?”

Dimly the thought flitted through Lisa's wine-fogged brain that she didn't have a choice. Why did he pretend she did? But her conscious thought was ice for ice cream sounded reasonable, and she nodded, not really sure what he intended to do, but eager for that chocolate coffee explosion in her mouth.

Gilbert took a cube of ice and slid it into Lisa's pussy. She didn't feel it at first, but then, as it began to melt in her heat, she did. He took another piece, a smaller one, and pressed it up into her bottom. Lisa squealed as he pressed it home. Next a cube was sliding over her nipples, making her shiver. She could feel them harden and they felt tight and in need of a warm mouth to soothe them. Gilbert continued sliding pieces of ice over Lisa's body, thoroughly chilling her until she was shivering in her bonds.

“Oh, I'm so cold. Please, sir. Please, no more.”

“No more? Well, I wasn't finished. But since you want me to stop, I will.” Gilbert took away the ice and roughly toweled Lisa's wet cold body with a dishtowel. Then he took the pint of ice cream and put it back in the freezer. Lisa strained, lifting her head off her pillow, trying to see what he was doing,

“But sir? My ice cream?”

“No way. You didn't follow through, so no ice cream for you.”

Lisa's head fell back, and something almost akin to anger surged through her, but she was too tired to experience it. All she was consciously aware of was that she hadn't gotten her ice cream. What did she have to do to get her ice cream? She wanted that coffee fudge. Why had she said she was cold? What was a little coldness, if she could have had ice cream? Lisa sighed loudly.

She realized Gilbert was watching her. What did he want? In some ways Gilbert had ceased to be real for her. He was the entity, the presence, who decided when she could eat or drink, when she would be fucked, or beaten, or allowed to sleep. He was all-powerful in her life now. Her life had shrunk to her little dark prison, with its mattress, its metal bowl and its trunk full of whips and chains.

Of course, sometimes she got to come out. Like now, tied down on the kitchen table, but with a belly full of steak, with the heat of the wine coursing pleasantly through her veins. And the retreating promise of ice cream.

“Please sir,” she ventured. “What must I do for my ice cream?”

“Well,” Gilbert said, pretending to ponder, though she was certain he already had a new torture in mind. “Since you couldn't handle the cold very well, let's try some heat. I'll drip hot wax on your body, and if you take it like a proper sub, and don't whine and whimper about it, maybe I'll relent, despite your bad behavior, and let you have your coffee fudge.”

Hot wax. How bad could that be? Lisa used to play with candles as a kid, dipping her fingers into the melted pools of fragrant wax, making little caps for her fingertips. It had been fun. She could do that. Especially for ice cream.

“Yes, I'll be good. I promise.”

Gilbert lit two long red candles. Lisa stared at the flames a moment, then let her head fall back, closing her eyes. He held the candles over her belly at first, letting the hot drops land in a splatter around her bellybutton. Lisa jerked slightly, but otherwise was still and quiet.