Shona's Surprising Slave - Chapter 19
Femdom romance in the CARGO 'verse, where the NHS installs permanent chastity devices!
"Marvellous party, Shona! Marvellous."
Hal was holding the coats while the Very Important Guest --- Miss Armstrong's boss's boss, as far as he could make out --- grinned up at the statuesque redhead and shook her hand.
Mrs VIP simpered, exchanged an awkward hug and cheek kiss with the taller woman --- tiptoes and stooping were involved. She glanced at Hal, as if she knew, then flushed. "Yes! Wonderful."
Mr VIP paused at the threshold. He lowered his voice. "Any idea what's up with Victor? The chap seemed out of sorts."
"Oh," said Miss Armstrong. "Girl trouble, I think."
Everybody laughed.
It was 1 am when the party dwindled down to a handful of hawkish city traders, all male, hovering around Miss Armstrong like Penelope's suitors --- not that anybody here would get the reference --- until she loudly remarked what a good boyfriend "Cal" was.
Hal smiled to himself and didn't bother to correct her.
At last, the predators went off to a "private club (wink)" and the front door closed.
Miss Armstrong whooped and twirled slightly unsteadily so that her toga dress flared. She grinned like a big ginger cat. "I did it! I held a fucking grown-up party!"
Hal squared his shoulders and prepared his little speech. He would graciously shrug off her gratitude while reminding her he'd lost his remaining job just to make this happen for her. If there was one useful thing he had learned from his Classics degree, it was Rhetoric...
Miss Armstrong's green eyes finally noticed him. "Right slave, come help me out of this dress."
She marched past him.
He followed her down the hall and into her bedroom.
The Amazon redhead stood at the foot of the bed where hours before, Hal's ex girlfriend had knelt and performed oral service. Even that memory dwindled compared to the sheer wonder of Miss Armstrong towering over him in her toga dress as if she had slipped through a time portal.
"This thing cost a fortune," she said, pulling off her belt.
He stood before her, frozen.
"Idiot. There's a zip at the back." She turned around, slightly unsteady in her heels.
With tingling fingers, he lifted the hair from the back of her neck and unearthed the zip. The dress parted to reveal an expanse of skin broken only by her substantial bra strap.
Caged groin throbbing, he eased the dress down over her wide hips and bare buttocks, then knelt to guide it past the high straps of her sandals.
Miss Armstrong stepped out of the dress. Her bra dropped to the floor. She turned to face her mirrored wardrobe. She bushed her red hair and pointed one leather-webbed foot. "Pretty good."
She wasn't speaking to him, but Hal wished he could tell her she looked more than pretty good.
The high-heeled sandals made her even taller so that the bedroom seemed too small to contain her. The criss-crossed straps emphasised the curve of her calf muscles. The golden bangles and necklace toned with her pale skin and freckles. Her breasts were firm and round, the big nipples in perfect proportion to the fleshy half-globes. Her red pubic hair was like a bed of embers between her thighs, and still furrowed where Tabitha's tongue had done its work.
Hal's cage clenched around his cock even as fear tingled down his spine.
It wasn't just that Miss Armstrong was standing there admiring herself, as naked as the day they'd met. It was that she had become utterly unbothered by his presence, as if she had filed him away as insignificant and nothing he could do would change that.
The worst of it was how very much that turned him on and yet he could not go home and replay this in his head while he masturbated himself stupid.
Her reflected green eyes flickered his direction. Without turning from the mirror, she ordered, "Hang that up, slave."
Hal slipped around the statuesque naked woman. There was a little ribbon sewn into the bare shoulder side of the gown. It took a moment to get the thing onto a hanger.
When he turned, Miss Armstrong had tossed aside the duvet and was sitting on her bed, still naked except for sandals and jewellery. More than ever, she looked like a monumental Roman sculpture, perhaps a reclining Venus carved in a larger-than-life scale.
"Get undressed, slave. I want a fuck."
Hal blinked. "What?"
"That's pardon, mistress."
She'd said that firmly but with no playful edge, as if she meant it. Somehow, that was worse. A spurt of semen escaped Hal's lost penis. Flushing, he managed, "Pardon, mistress?"
"You are wearing your magic boxers?"
Hal's flush deepened. "They're comfortable... I didn't expect..." He trailed off into a mumble. She just wasn't interested.
Miss Armstrong reached into her bedside drawer and tossed a massive dildo in his direction. It thudded onto the mattress between her sandalled feet and lay there like an obscene trophy reputedly collected by certain ancient female cults.
Hal squeaked and flinched back from it.
"Get a move on, slave," said Miss Armstrong, spreading her legs. She slid an outsize hand down over the expanse of her rust-red pubic hair and started rubbing herself.
Hal shuddered and looked away. It was too much like staring into the sun. Keeping his eyes averted, he tore off his apron and shirt, fought his way out of his jeans and shoes. Now stripped down to his magic boxers, he approached the bed.
Miss Armstrong groaned and drew in her feet. The heels of her sandals dug into the under sheet.
A quiet squelching snagged Hal's glance. It was "just" her big hand polishing her groin. However, the sight made his chastity cage prickle around his rigid penis.
His stomach tingled. This was his one chance to turn himself into her lover! There was no she could have simulated sex with him and still treat him like an object.
And here he was hesitating... What if she came without him and lost interest?
Panicking now, he grabbed the dildo. It was like picking up a rubber cudgel... a rubber cudgel that looked like a massive erect penis that might belong to some statue of Hercules. With shaking hands, he installed it on the front of his boxer shorts. Then he climbed onto the bed to kneel between her sandalled feet.
The statuesque redhead didn't even lift her head to acknowledge him. Her naked curves filled the king size bed. Hal was like a lone traveller facing some storm-ridden mountain range.
"At last." Miss Armstrong withdrew her hand from her crotch. A wet furrow now parted her red pubic hair. Close to, little beads of her juices were visible on her inner lips where they bulged free of her red pubic curls. "You know what to do."
Hal knelt forward onto his hands and knees so that his palms rested on the mattress on either side of her breasts and he was staring at her be-jewelled neck. The hot scent of her skin rose up to fill his nostrils. He shuddered.
Golden bracelet shimmering, she reached down between them and directed the head of the massive dildo to nuzzle her red-thatched crotch. She shifted her hips. "Go on then, slave."
Hal sank his hips, dipped into her.
The artificial penis slid inside her.
She sighed. "That's so good."
Hal tried to remember what a velvety vagina felt like around his cock, but all he could feel was the unremitting pressure between his legs.
Gaze fixed at the meeting of their two groins, he twitched his buttocks back. Her vagina slurped and the fat shaft withdrew the breadth of three fingers. It was glistening with her juices now.
She raised her legs, clamping his waist. The heels of her sandals dug into his buttocks like spurs. "Fuck me hard and fast."
Hal worked the artificial penis like a piston while Miss Armstrong's vagina squelched and slurped, the long inner lips sucking at the shaft each time it withdrew.
Her flesh quivered. Her breasts wobbled. She closed her eyes, arched her spine and groaned.
The world blurred. Hal's penis gave a fiery pulse. He stole a look in the wardrobe mirror.
Miss Armstrong rolled her head, messing her hair and making her necklace writhe. She groaned louder.
Hal pounded into her harder, faster. But in the mirror, he looked ridiculous; a tiny, unworthy mortal labouring between the thighs of a Titan goddess. Hal Charlton, penniless-academic-turned-domestic-cleaner had no place in this scene.
And, the sad truth was, he had never imagined anything like this on all those Mondays when he cleaned her flat, nor when he'd lain in bed and masturbated. He'd only ever pictured himself going down on her like an obedient slave.
But all this self-doubt was his kink talking! He was going to earn his place as her boyfriend if it killed him.
Miss Armstrong's eyes snapped open. Their reflected gazes met. "How do you feel, slave?"
Hal turned his head to look down on her and heard himself blurt, "I love you! Miss..." He stopped himself. "I love you, Shona!"
She slapped him, hard. "Fuck!"
A spasm went though his buttocks. His cage loosened but somehow he kept thrusting the dildo into her wet vagina.
Her green eyes twinkled. "I don't even know your name," she said. "You don't ever get to use mine."
"Yes... mistress." His voice wobbled as each thrust served to inflate his shrivelled penis just a little.
"So, how do you feel, slave?"
What did she want to hear? "Frustrated."
"But I neutered..." She was panting, now. Sweat beaded her freckled face. "...you and here you are fucking me... but I'm not fucking you... and you'll never fuck again." She lifted her buttocks so that he had to arch his back to keep pounding her. "Don't you hate me?"
"I..." Hal remembered her pressing his red button, beating the hell out of him. He should. He should grow a backbone and...
"I... I love you, mistress."
"Pathetic!" She laughed, interrupted herself with a cry. Her powerful hands seized the back of his head, crushed him to her left breast.
Miss Armstrong's erect nipple bumped his lips. He opened them. Salty, perspiration-soaked flesh filled his mouth. He ground his tongue over her big nipple.
He was so much shorter than her that he had no problem tonguing a breast and working the prosthetic penis in her vagina. Breath hissing in his nostrils, he twitched like a dying fish, churning wet sounds out of her vagina.
She groaned. Her bare belly rippled against his skin and she undulated under him. Her groans degenerated into animal cries.
Hal's groin dissolved into a molten whirlpool of lust. He became a shuddering thing whose only purpose was to keep the dildo squelching in the vagina of the woman he loved, who did not care that he loved her.
Miss Armstrong made a throaty screech, writhed under him. "Oh my --- Fuck! Oh! FUCK!"
Hal bit her nipple.
She let out a deep groan that became a rising roar of pleasure.
Hal's penis seemed to tense, poised for his own orgasm...
...because that was what was supposed to happen; her pleasure then permission for him to let go and have his.
Miss Armstrong's big hands caught his shoulders, flipped him off her so that he lay beside her, gasping for breath, heart hammering, pierced penis hard in the cage that would not ever let go.
"OK, slave." She yawned. "Go tidy up." She stretched. "Oh, take off my sandals first."
His groin a knot of lust, Hal swung around to sit on the edge of the bed. The big dildo nestled against his belly. The head was hot and sticky with her juices.
What had just happened?
"Covers," she said, sleepily. "I'm getting cold."
Dildo wobbling from the front of his neutered crotch, Hal grabbed the duvet and muted her naked form.
"Sandals," she said, kicking one foot free.
"We have to negotiate first," he said. "This evening cost me my remaining job..." He trailed off. What was he asking for? Wages?
Miss Armstrong half sat up, revealing both breasts. Her left nipple was swollen. The surrounding skin was shiny with his saliva. "Sure. You can move into the boxroom. Oh, and we're going exclusive on HrLckr."
Hal realised he was shaking with fear. "That's not a negotiation," he mumbled, then repeated it louder.
She looked at him genuinely puzzled. "But I made you."
He took a deep breath. "Two-way exclusive."
Miss Armstrong shrugged her broad shoulders so that her breasts wobbled. "Then it's open-ended at my pleasure."
Hal chewed his lip. "That gives you indefinite control over my sex life."
She laughed. "You don't have a sex life."
Her scorn went straight to Hal's penis, which inflated against its bars. He shuddered. "I..." He flushed. "I'll be your slave until you've bid for Project X. Then I want to take you on a date."
Her red eyebrows steepled. "A date?"
"A proper date and you treat me like a person and remember my name."
"OK," she said. "But until then you have no life. You're not even a person." She wriggled back under the covers, drawing them up to expose both sandalled feet. "Are we done?"
He moved to unstrap a shapely calf. "Yes, mistress."
HAL! My boy. what have you done?!
Another amazing chapter. I actually have no words, I'm not sure whether to slap him again or maybe just slap him on the back in congratulations.
I await your next chapter as always.
Absolutely superb, really enjoying this Giles looking forward to the next part