Shona's Surprising Slave - Chapter 2
Femdom romance in the CARGO 'verse, where the NHS installs permanent chastity devices!
Shona wriggled her toes against the clean sheets and sipped her latte, delivered to the door by a deliciously cute 20-something girl from the nearby hipster café, no less. “This is the life.”
“I was thinking,” said Victor, beside her.
“Not more work stuff.”
“But I love putting you through your paces.”
He did. He was always prodding her for her opinions on this trend and that geopolitical situation. His questions had felt like mentoring at first, but now --- sometimes --- he contributed so little to the conversation that she suspected he was just flattering her by pretending to take an interest in her thoughts.
Shona sighed. “What then?”
Victor laughed. “That we could let people know about us at the party.”
Shona coughed into her drink. But this was what she wanted, right? “At the party?”
“Yes, of course at the party.” He rolled over to kiss her. There was a flick of tongue.
“Go on then, Victor,” said Shona. She plonked her coffee on the bedside table and squirmed down the bed. Her long hair spread out over the pillows.
Victor glanced at her. “You look beautiful!”
“Thanks,” she said, knowing full well that in a few hours he’d be complaining about stray red hairs all over on his nice white sheets.
As she moved down the bed, the silky nightgown she’d bought for the weekend slid up her legs leaving them bare against the warm sheets. She moistened in anticipation.
Beside her, Victor struggled out of his boxer shorts, flapping the covers as he did so the scent of last night’s coupling wafted Shona’s face. She allowed herself a secret smile: the cat that got the cream... the big-boned ginger-haired provincial girl who got the high-powered alpha male who wasn’t put off by her monstrous height and broad figure.
Victor rolled over and reached for the condoms on his side of the bed.
Shona’s grin became a frown. She quickly smoothed her expression. “Aren’t you forgetting your manners, lover boy?” she asked sweetly. She added a giggle just in case. As her mother was always telling her, nice was all she had.
Victor loomed over her, all square-jawed rugby hero. His eyes twinkled. His hands slipped under her slinky nightgown and raised it to expose Shona’s breasts to the morning sun streaming through the blinds.
She wished he wouldn’t. They were too big to be pert. When she was on her back, her tits lay around on her chest like dying jelly fishes. She sighed.
Victor gave a boyish grin --- she supposed all sighs sounded alike to men - and descended on her right breast. His wet mouth fastened on and he sucked.
There was a tingle of pleasure as her nipple slid past his lips, clipped his teeth. Then, not much other than a pleasant tightness she’d long ago lost interest in. Even in high school it was always her breasts that got the attention, but never quite the right type.
It seemed to make him happy though.
He squelched and sucked while she stroked his short hair and glanced around the room. Would they move in together here, or at her place? Here was nice, in a pristine bachelor pad sort of way. But there was nowhere for her stuff.
Mind you, there was nowhere for her stuff in her own flat.
Her smile faded. All this would be moot if he got the promotion. They could sell her place, rent this place out and get somewhere bigger.
Victor released her breast. The saliva evaporated, cooling her nipple in ways that sent a tingle down her spine to between her legs.
Again, that boyish grin.
“You’re not done yet,” said Shona. She gave his head a gentle shove.
“What?” he exclaimed, eyes wide in mock outrage that seemed to mask real reluctance. “For a morning quickie?”
Shona had forgotten to giggle! She opened her mouth to tell him to get on and fuck her, that she could do without more foreplay. Then she had an idea. She raised an eyebrow. “Who said anything about quick?”
Victor laughed. “Hussy!”
He burrowed down under the sheets and got his head between her legs.
Shona sighed. At last! Though it would be nice when they didn’t have to go through this song and dance every time she wanted oral. At least he hadn’t joked about her “ginger minge”.
His face brushed her pubic hair. “I wish you’d shave down here!”
“I’ll add it to my to-do list,” she said. “Hang on, I’ll get my phone...” She started to get out of bed.
“No, it’s OK!” said, pulling her back by the hips. “I’ll manage.”
Victor’s tongue prodded her outer lips, slid between them and found her clitoris. Victor flicked it with almost clinical precision, as if he didn’t want to get covered in her juices.
All that attention on her clit was too much, too soon.
Shona tilted her hips, trying to shift him.
Victor stayed on target the way he got his big corporate sales.
Shona changed tactics and twerked her hips up and down in a way that she hoped was sexy.
Victor lifted his head and peaked out from under the sheets. “Stay still! This isn’t a rodeo.”
This time she managed a disarming giggle and lay back.
Now wasn’t the time to try to improve his sexual technique, not on the last day of a lovely romantic long weekend. So she endured his grindings for the count of one hundred, then drew in her legs. “OK, I’m ready lover boy,” she said.
“Finally!” He reared up, big cock hard and ready, the head unhooded and swollen purple.
She reached out and pinged it so it wobbled comically. “Condom,” she hissed in a stage whisper.
“Oh,” he said. “We don’t need that now. We’ve been together six months and I’ve been one hundred and ten percent faithful...”
She considered. She knew men preferred to ride bare back.
A drop of pre-cum squeezed out of Victor’s slit.
Shona’s thighs twitched. She supposed she would have to get used to it.
“Unless there’s something you want to tell me...?” prompted Victor.
“What?” She blushed. “No of course not. I don’t sleep around.” She sat up and closed her legs primly. “No condom, no sex.”
Victor stroked the outside of her thighs the way you would sooth a horse. “I don’t see why not. We’ve both had the new Omnivaccine.”
Shona did her best not to frown. It was getting very hard to be nice. She struggled to find a charming lie. However, he knew she was fitted with a coil and the damned Omnivaccine had done away with all excuses about safe sex. There was talk of most of the condom makers shutting up shop some time soon.
A wave of irritation prickled through her. First the song and dance about oral sex. Now she was trying to find a sweet way to refuse a vagina full of salty cum. “Because I bloody well said so,” she said. She let her accent harden from soft West Coast Scots to the harsher Glaswegian she’d picked up at university. “Now, put on a rubber johnny and come and fuck me.”
He grinned. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
He applied the condom like a pro.
She obligingly shifted and opened her legs to accept him.
Taking his weight on his hands, he wiggled into position then jabbed the general area with his dick.
With an indulgent sigh, Shona reached down and guided the head into her vagina.
Victor groaned and dropped his weight, thrusting deep inside her.
The shock forced a cry from her lips.
Misreading it, he declared, “Down to business at last!” He pounded into her, making the bed creak and her breasts and soft flesh vibrate with the impact...
And Shona started thinking about Victor’s promotion...
Give them five years, they’d be one of those corporate power couples: smartly dressed with even smarter friends and a house in the country. She enjoyed sailing back when she was growing up on the West Coast. Perhaps they could afford a nice yacht and take it around the Mediterranean... Did Victor like sailing? She would have to find out...
“Ahem,” said Victor. “Are you still there?”
Shona blinked back into focus. “Sorry, my mind wandered.”
“We’re supposed to be having sex,” said Victor. “You keep doing this when we shag. What were you thinking about?”
“Work and stuff,” she lied. “Sorry,” she added. “You were just taking too long.”
“Taking too long? But normal women love my phenomenal staying power!”
“Penises just don’t do much for me,” she shot back, then raised a hand to cover her mouth. Where had that come from?
“What?” said Victor. His cock shrivelled inside her. He pulled out and knelt back, revealing the comically shrunken member with its wrinkled latex sheath. “You don’t like sex?”
Shona leaned forward and touched his cheek. “I love sex,” she said. “But...” To hell with it. He liked it when she talked dirty. She pressed on. “My vagina’s for you not me.”
“But that’s proper sex!” cried Victor.
“But I told you this before! I’m a clit girl.”
“I thought you were joking.”
“You didn’t fucking listen!” she cried, her accent now harsh even to her own ears.
Victor went silent for a moment. Then he said, “It’ll be OK. We’ll get you some sex therapy. Loosen you up, or something.”
“I don’t need fu-,” she stopped herself from completing the swear word. This was not who she was. “I don’t need sex therapy,” she said. She took a deep breath. She could salvage this. “I like you coming inside me,” she said, shimmying her shoulders so that her breasts jiggled, “but it’s the other stuff that gets me off.” She managed a giggle. “Think of fucking as reward for services rendered...”
Victor plucked off the condom, leaving his dick slimy with spermicide. “That’s just... wrong,” he said. “Is that all sex is to you? Mutual servicing?”
“As opposed to a chance to prove your manhood while I simper at the size of your cock?” she said. He looked so shocked she laughed. “Look on the bright side,” she said. “The pressure’s off you. Why don’t you go down on me until you can get it up again. And if you can’t it won’t matter much to me anyway.”
“And they say men are pigs in bed!” exclaimed Victor. “You’re the most selfish lover I’ve had.”
Shona slipped out of the bed. She brushed down her night gown. It had seemed so very sophisticated but now it made her feel like a lost doll. She reached for her panties where they lay with the rest of her clothes, draped over Victor’s weights bench.
“What are you doing?” asked Victor,
“Getting dressed,” she said, snapping the elastic into place for emphasis. “It’s stopped being a romantic weekend.” She grabbed her bra. “I’m going home to work on tomorrow’s presentation.”
“But we were having a discussion,” said Victor.
“No we were not,” she said, fastening the bra. Now she felt more contained and in control. The dress was next, a pretty floral number that came half way down her too-big thighs. As her head emerged she said, “A discussion would mean that you hearing me, which you are not.”
Victor had sprung to the floor to face her. A tall man, he was almost eye-to-eye with her. “Come back to bed.”
“Look, you’re just out of sorts because you went floppy,” said Shona. “But I don’t need your cock...” She trailed off. That was the wrong thing to say, even if it was true.
Victor’s eyes narrowed. “You know Shona, people warned me that you were a cold one.”
Shona grabbed her overnight bag. “People can fuck off. And so can you. We’re through.”
“If this is how you go on, you’ll end up alone,” said Victor.
“Aye. Perhaps I will, Victor.” She tried to slip her feet into her high heels, thought better of it and scooped them up. “But at least my vibrator does what I want it to.” She padded barefoot through his apartment, mentally wrote off her toothbrush, got her coat and handbag.
As she swung the door open, his voice carried from the bedroom. “Castrating bitch!”
“Chance would be a fine thing!” She slammed the door behind her and marched down the steps into the street. She’d feel better after a long hot bath.