Shona's Surprising Slave - Chapter 18
Femdom romance in the CARGO 'verse, where the NHS installs permanent chastity devices!
Manager Upmarket Bar.
Calling...
Hal glared at his phone screen. "Come on, you bastard! Answer!" The manager had been fine with him skipping the first part of the shift, but getting out of the second part would be harder.
Hal glanced at the sliding door, half expecting Miss Armstrong to come storming through to haul him back to work. He had slipped away from the party to phoning from her balcony --- the only quiet spot with reception. He could have sat on the single lounger that took up half the space, but he didn't want to be caught resting.
The phone hummed to itself for a few seconds, then declared, Call Ended.
Another nervous glance. What was he worried about? The stately Amazon had barely looked his way all evening. She'd probably forgotten about him. If she did come looking for him, they would chat about the party and he'd try to... flirt with her? That seemed a little belated.
He re-dialed the manager.
While he waited, he leaned on the railing and took a deep breath of night air. There was a good view across the old dock to the blocks of hyper-modern offices. The lights were on, but the rows of desks were empty.
Hal tried to imagine that one of those chairs was his, that he went to work every day in a suit and tie and did... important stuff involving money and investments.
But he'd burned that bridge when he skipped the corporate milk round and to go straight from his Classics degree to researching his doctorate. The gender politics around Roman slavery and chastity had been so intellectually intriguing... or so he'd told himself. Now, standing here in a permanent chastity device and practically playing house slave to a beautiful rich woman, it was obvious he had just been following his fetish.
At last, the manager picked up:
They were getting busy now. No, Hal couldn't take the rest of the evening off. If he didn't turn up in the next thirty minutes, he should consider himself fired.
The party noises briefly swelled as the glass door slid open and closed behind him.
"She's really dominant," said Tabitha. "Like, dominant as fuck."
Hal turned.
In the half light, his ex girlfriend's little black dress made her look like a vampire. "Honestly!" Tabitha giggled. "I'm still wet."
"Victor doesn't seem quite as alpha in comparison," said Hal, and realised he was boasting.
Tabitha shook her head. "No, but he's still more alpha than you." She lifted the hem of her skirt above her stocking tops, then higher. The skin of her pubis was white in the moonlight. The tattooed briar pattern seemed ghostly and unnatural. Her big eyes flashed. "How about a quicky, right here on this balcony with all the posh people the other side of the door?"
Hal's penis hardened in its cage. The curtains were drawn. It was entirely doable... except for one detail. He shook his head.
"Why not? Are you and Shona exclusive?"
Somewhere down in the street, a dog barked. A distant siren wailed.
"Miss Armstrong and I..." Hal was glad of the dark to hide his blush. He nodded vigorously. "Yes. Of course we are."
"Oh good! I like a challenge." The petite girl sprang into his arms, put her hands behind his neck, wrapped her legs around his.
The weight forced him back onto the railing. "Jesus! Careful!"
Tabitha giggled and ground her crotch against the front of his trousers.
His penis heaved against its bars, almost dragging him forward so he thrust his caged groin into hers.
She giggled, "Hard..." Her eyes widened. "Oh, fuck! You're still wearing that thing."
Hal disentangled himself and set her down.
Tabitha grinned up at him and shimmied her slender hips. She settled onto the lounger. "It's been like months. Why didn't you just... cut it off or whatever?"
Hal sighed. "You weren't listening when I explained."
She pouted in a way that sent a shiver through his imprisoned penis. "Well, I was cross about the money."
"I really can't get it off without mutilating myself."
"That's..." Tabitha's voice became a purr. "...really hardcore." For a second time, she raised her hem to expose her tattooed crotch. She drew in her stockinged legs, planted them on the lounger. She opened her thighs. The moonlight made her flesh glow above the tops of her dark stockings.
"Hmm..." She stroked herself, then held up a glistening hand. "See? Really wet."
Hal's hips twitched. The cage prickled around his dick.
Tabitha extended her first two fingers and carefully applied them to the notch at the top of smooth outer lips. She started to rub. "So it's been... like... months... and you haven't even jerked off?"
Hal shuddered.
"But..." Her hand blurred in the dark. Tabitha shifted her hips. "Wow... Oh nice... and you... can only watch..." She arched her back against the lounger so that her small breasts stuck out and her nipples protruded under the fabric of her little black dress. "Oh wowwwwww." She sighed and settled back. "That feels better. Poor Hal." She crossed one stockinged leg over the other, so her slender thighs pressed together, hiding her pussy but leaving bare the V of tattooed flesh.
Hal bit his lip and to repress a whimper.
Inside the lounge, Victor's voice rose to say something witty and everybody laughed. Miss Armstrong's voice boomed and there was even more laughter.
"Never mind." Tabitha giggled. "I still have your keys... somewhere? If you tell me Shona's plans for Project X, I'll give you them back. I might even blow you for old time's sake."
Hal found he couldn't stop laughing.
"What's so funny?" asked Miss Armstrong.
Hal's state had masked the sound of the door opening. She slid it closed behind her and suddenly the balcony seemed way too small. "Well?"
"Tabitha offered me a blow job in return for your plans..." Hal carefully didn't say mistress. He was going to be a person to her if it killed him!
"Hal! You snitch!" exclaimed Tabitha, springing off the lounger.
Miss Armstrong slapped her across the face. "You little cunt."
Tabitha yelped and put a hand to her cheek. She shuddered, but did not move from where she stood. "You just... you can't..."
"What the fuck did you expect to happen?" said Miss Armstrong. "Getting at me through my slave. Right. Turn round, bend over!"
Tabitha's eyes widened. "What?"
"I'm going to send you back to Victor with a sore arse."!
"What? Seriously? You can't just..."
Miss Armstrong's voice hardened. "You're a pervert like Hal and you can't fucking resist. Can you?"
Tabitha shook her head. "No, mistress." She meekly turned around and bent to clutch her ankles.
Hal's groin tightened uncomfortably. This was unreal, but here he was experiencing it.
Miss Armstrong moved to stand over Tabitha. She took the girl by the hips and manoeuvred her around to get the right position. Then she glanced at Hal. "Thingy --- lift her skirt."
"Hal," he corrected.
"Slave," said Miss Armstrong. "Lift her skirt or you're next."
The blood seemed to drain from Hal's brain into his caged cock. Stumbling drunkenly, he shifted to get in beside his ex. He lifted her little black dress to unveil her pert buttocks to the night. The warm heat of wet pussy wafted up to bathe his face. Tabitha must be horribly turned on.
His chastity cage clenched. His legs wobbled in sympathy.
Miss Armstrong raised her big hand. Her golden bangles jingled and caught the moonlight. She delivered a hard slap to against Tabitha's small bottom. There was an audible smack! that made Hal flinch and his penis pulse wetly in its cage.
Tabitha gasped. "Fuck! Too hard! Too-"
"Cunt!" Another smack cut her off.
Tabitha yelped. "I---"
The giant redhead's hand flashed again and again. The blows landed so hard and fast they sounded like the beating wings of a great bird. "Don't you... dare... fucking ever... try to... get to me through... my fucking slave you... little cunt."
Tabitha made weird drowning sounds, as if she was trying to speak, but could only sob.
And Hal could only stand there, hard in his permanent chastity cage, while his ex girlfriend's buttocks turn a dark shade.
At last, Miss Armstrong stopped and the only sound was Tabitha's upside down sobbing; she was still bent over, clutching her angles.
Miss Armstrong put her hand between Tabitha's thighs. "You're fair sopping wet, you wee hussy."
Tabitha emitted a mewling sound. She tilted her buttocks suggestively. "Please, mistress."
Miss Armstrong laughed. "OK then, but don't make too much noise or I'll stop." She drew back her hand, made a hook of two large fingers, pushed in. There was a wet sound and Tabitha gasped.
Hal couldn't see properly from where he stood, still meekly holding his ex-girlfriend's hem. He wanted to tilt his head to take a proper look, but somehow that was unthinkable.
Tabitha's vagina slurped in time to the movement of the redhead's arm. She let out a throaty, vibrating moan Hal had never heard before. It rose in pitch, wobbled. She let go of her ankles, clamped both hands over her mouth, and screeched.
Hal's cock spasmed in sympathy.
Tabitha sank to her knees, leaving Miss Armstrong's hand behind.
The tall redhead leaned over and pressed her fingers into the petite woman's face. "Lick me clean."
Tabitha whimpered. She arched her neck back and lapped at Miss Armstrong's hand.
"Better," said Miss Armstrong. "Fuck off back to Mr Alpha Big Cock."
As Tabitha scampered away, Miss Armstrong swatted her across the buttocks, making her squeak. She turned on Hal. "Now, slave, what were you doing out here? There's still glasses to refill and food to pass around."
"I..." He found himself staring at her sandalled toes. She'd painted her nails a sensual purple that reminded him of the secret folds of flesh behind the forest of red pubic curls. His penis twitched wetly.
He was under her spell. "I have to go to work," he mumbled. "Or I'll lose my job."
"What's that?"
He repeated his words, louder. The word mistress hung in the air, but he was damned if he was going to say it. Nor was he going to say what he had in mind; that he should come back tomorrow and tidy up, and maybe spend Sunday with her if he could rearrange her shifts.
He bit his tongue.
No. She would have to negotiate, ask him nicely, treat him as a person with commitments and priorities. Show some gratitude...
"Not my problem," said Miss Armstrong. "You're staying here and slaving. That's what slaves do."
Hal forced himself to look up at her.
The statuesque redhead didn't seem angry, or amused, merely one-hundred percent certain that she was in charge. She looked every bit the Roman domina in her earth-toned toga dress and gold jewellery. For the last two hours he'd slaved for her --- served her guests, answered the door, cleared up spills --- but he'd always been aware of his mistress, towering over her colleagues, playing hostess like a grand lady.
He was drowning in her dominance! He wanted to let go and just sink into the dark depths. But he was worth more than that. Hal took a deep breath and pronounced, "I am not a slave."
He flinched, anticipating a slap.
Miss Armstrong merely laughed. "I neutered you, so what the fuck else are you good for? Now, get back to work. Slave."
Hal shuddered as a squirt of semen escaped his chastity cage. It didn't help. His penis settled into a kind of sticky hardness.
He couldn't tell whether she was saying all this just to get him to play waiter for the evening, or whether she really believed it. It didn't matter. If he resisted, he would lose her forever.
He bobbed his head. "Yes, mistress."