Shona's Surprising Slave - Chapter 34
Femdom romance in the CARGO 'verse, where the NHS installs permanent chastity devices!
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The door to Miss Armstrong's flat door was ajar.
Tabitha took Hal's wrist and dragged him into the hall.
He glanced left, to where the master bedroom door was open. The wardrobe beyond it was also open, and he glimpsed clothes bundled and roughly piled up. This was like back to the old days when he was merely a once-a-week cleaner.
But his girlfriend was leading him through to the lounge.
And there was Miss Armstrong.
"Here he is," said Tabitha. "Neutered and collared as promised."
"What...?" began Hal, his cage tightening.
The giant redhead was posed in her armchair like a super villain, the light from the window making her hair blaze like hot iron.
Hal's gaze flinched away. Then his conditioning kicked in and he found himself assessing the room.
The dining table was a mess of spent wine glasses, some shoved aside to make space for a handbag and what looked like a leather dog leash. Used cups and plates covered all available surfaces. Pizza boxes were stacked on the floor by the TV. The floor needed a sweep and mop.
And there were Miss Armstrong's boots: knee-length supple brown leather to match the season.
Hal raised his gaze.
The Scottish Amazon was barelegged above the boots, but her dress cloaked her knees. It was velvety with a pattern of russet and green triangles. The stretchy material clung to her statuesque form.
Hal remembered her naked and shuddering to the rhythm of his tongue in her red-thatched crotch.
At the same time, it was hard to believe that was more than a fantasy...
Because Miss Armstrong was a stranger.
His stomach squirmed as he tried to resist the horrible chain of logic.
OK, yes, there'd been a one-sided intimacy to his time playing her house slave. He knew her private habits, knew her at her most unguarded moments.
However, other than what he'd overheard when she talked to her friends, her past was a mystery, and he could only guess what made her tick. Really, he knew nothing about her that mattered.
Worse, other than the unedifying details of his resumé, she didn't know anything about him at all, nor did she care to.
His relationship to her was all in his head.
Oh God!
What did they call it?... Parasocial.
He was no better than a creepy superfan writing love letters to a movie star. Or stalking her.
Now Hal felt queasy.
And yet, there was this other thought, this fact, that he had served her like a slave, that he had serviced her like a gigolo.
Miss Armstrong rose from her chair and the room shrank. A thick leather belt emphasised the curve of her waist so that it was clear that her perfect hourglass figure was merely scaled up to match her towering height.
Hal's penis shrivelled in its cage. He back-stepped as if in the presence of a deity... Diana the Huntress, dangerous Virgin Goddess of the Woods and Chase.
"You've tricked me before, you little hussy," said Miss Armstrong. She snapped her fingers at Hal. "Strip off." Then to Tabitha; "I want to inspect the goods first."
"Go on, Hal," said Tabitha.
"No... I..."
But he was already obediently stripping. As if from a great distance, Hal watched himself fumble with his shirt buttons, then slip out of his shoes and jeans and magic boxers so that he was stood naked between the two women; naked, that was, except for the forever cage and the new collar.
"Aye well," said Miss Armstrong. "Looks like you delivered." Again, she snapped her fingers. This time she pointed down.
Hal dropped to his knees and settled onto the cold wooden floor. It was a relief to make himself small. Like coming home.
Tabitha prodded his hip with her booted toe. She giggled. "I knew it," she said. "He's totally broken. Lucky escape for me!"
Miss Armstrong paced closer, boots slapping the floor and Hal wanted to go onto his hands and knees to kiss the leather.
The tall redhead stopped when she was looming over both of them. She reached over to where her handbag lay on the table and extracted a wad of fifty pound notes. "The other half of the money. Count it, it's all there."
Tabitha took the wad and flicked through it.
"Other half?" said Hal. That explained Tabitha's new boots and the manicure! He tried to rise, but the strength had gone from his legs. He looked up between the women's faces. "What's happening?" The question came out as a wail.
"Oh, silly," said Tabitha, "I've just sold you to Shona." She giggled and shook her pigtails. "For quite a lot of money, actually. I think I can start my business now."
Hal's vision blurred. A wet pulse went through his caged penis. "Sold?"
"A legal hack," said Tabitha, crossing her booted ankles. "CARGO let me take us both into a group partnership with Shona. Then I left, so now you belong to her."
"But... That can't..."
"Too late," said Miss Armstrong, stooping with the dog leash. "You're fucked." She threaded the leather leash through his collar. "I now control your bank account, your ability to sign contracts, and your 'identity' --- meaning you're staying neutered. I can also throw you out on the street. You're not just fucked. You're utterly fucked."
Hal's groin became a knot of pulsating arousal. He blinked, trying to focus. "But... but... that makes me..."
"Fucked," said Miss Armstrong, straightened so the leash tautened. "Specifically my actual slave, for real. And if you piss me off, I'll use the same legal hack to sell you on. This conversation is over."
Hal shuddered.
Tabitha let out a squeak of mirth. "Poor Hal."
"Who's 'Hal'?" asked Miss Armstrong.
Tabitha giggled.
"What?" said Miss Armstrong looking momentarily confused.
Hal rose unsteadily. "I'm Hal. And you can't get away with this...!"
Miss Armstrong yanked the leash and backhanded him across the face. "You're nobody."
Hal's face blazed and he staggered, but his groin scrunched and the whimper that came out was one of pent up erotic desperation. A squirt of semen splatted on the floor. Flushing, he dropped back to his knees.
Tabitha laughed. "To think I was going to marry that."
"Aye well," said Miss Armstrong."But Whatshisname washes and cleans well enough." She made a shooing gesture. "Close the front door on the way out, will you?"
Tabitha's bootsteps receded. The door slammed.
Hal was alone with his Mistress.
She hiked up her skirt over her bare thighs to reveal the luxuriant red curls of her naked croch. She settled back into the chair and slumped, legs spread. Her inner lips were already bulging hungrily through her slit.
Hal's penis twitched against its piercing.
Mistress tugged the leash. "Lick my cunt, slave."
He shuffled forward, pressed his face between her thighs.
She tilted her hips towards his face. Her inner lips flared and seemed to pulse like a sea creature. Her aroma reached him, thick and feline.
Hal's lost penis throbbed into hardness. He opened his mouth until his cheeks strained. Her red curls tickling his face, he pushed in and engulfed her pussy.
The salty taste burned through him like a strong spirit, dizzying his head, sending fire into his caged penis.
Mistress released his leash and draped her legs over his bare shoulders. The cool leather of her boots settled against his back. The heels bumped the soft space below the edge of his ribs. "Lick, slave!"
Hal's tongue engaged the slippery slot between her soft lips, slithered up, cleared strands of pubic hair, and squelched against the fingertip-sized button of her clitoris.
Mistress groaned and shifted against him.
Hal's tongue flickered into action, lashing the nub while her salty juices pooled in his mouth.
Her breathing became shallow. She started gasping out, "Fuck oh fuck oh fuck..."
The squelches became moist clicks, then a wet rattle, like heavy rain splashing a puddle.
Mistress was panting now. She shuddered. Her thighs clamped his cheeks. She let out a long groan that seemed to twist Hal's groin into ball of hopeless desire.
Still licking, Hal rolled his eyes up to look at her. Her furled skirt blocked his view of everything except her belly. The soft expanse kept tightening and relaxing like a drum.
Mistress groaned again, full throated. Her boot heels dug into the tender skin above his waist. She shifted, gripped the arms of the chair. Her groan became a thunderous roar that reverberated through every nerve in his body.
He licked ever faster, harder.
She exhaled and went limp. "Stop!"
Her legs released him and he fell back to his knees, face dripping with her juices, gaze rooted in her crotch. His tongue had slicked a dark lane through her russet curls, exposing puffy inner lips.
Mistress sat for a long five minutes until her breathing settled. Then she stood up so that Hal was now staring at her boots.
"Bring me coffee at my desk," she said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Then get this place cleared up, slave."
Slave!
The word speared Hal like a red hot spike from groin to throat. He tried to rise, rolled onto his back.
His spine arched.
A wild, pulsing sensation ignited his nerves, seared through them into his crotch, encountered the pressure points, boiled over past them like a torrent of lava.
Pure orgasm exploded through Hal. It destroyed everything it encountered, left no thoughts, only a scream.
He came back to himself lying flat on the floor, semen spraying his naked thighs.
"Ugh!" Mistress had stepped back. She was contemplating her boots, which were now streaked with thick white goo. "You can lick that off, slave."
But Hal's brain had cleared. He now saw her for what she was: the woman who had neutered and enslaved him... selfish, evil, maybe even psychopathic.
"No," he said. "I hate you!"
Mistress merely laughed and stepped around him.
Hal waited while her boot steps receded in the direction of her home office. Then he struggled to his feet, unlaced the leather leash and started to get dressed.
When he emerged into the hall dressed and ready to leave, the door to the second bedroom was closed and he could hear Miss Armstrong talking on the phone.
That reminded him to retrieve his own phone from the lounge where he couldn't resist a glance into the kitchen. He laughed. That was a week's work in there for some sucker.
Then the Police arrived.
A friendly female officer explained that under CARGO, Miss Armstrong was entitled to have him evicted from the premises with no questions asked, even though they were legal partners.
Hal said he was leaving anyway.
The office informed him that he was also barred from Tabitha's residence. "They can do it through the National ID app now," she added helpfully.
Outside in the street, Hal discovered that his banking app wouldn't let him in.
He scrolled his address book, but he realised he didn't really have any friends that were his own and not Tabitha's.
He opened HrLckr --- maybe he could hookup for the night? --- but he was marked as exclusive to Shona and the rest of the app was closed to him.
Homeless and penniless, there was only once place for him to go.
As Hal joined the queue for a bed for the night, he reflected that, well at least he was a free man...
OK, free except for the ten year collar and chastity device.
But he'd escaped being a slave.
Once he'd had some sleep, he'd find somebody who could fix this.
It couldn't really be legal, could it?
Utterly Fucked is right!