Angel, Demons Pt. 01

Her eyes pleaded with the woman that held her. "They all saw!" she moaned.

"Yes," the woman said, "oh, yes, they did."

She grabbed the girl's wrists to keep her from gathering her clothes and run. Then she turned and reached into the big leather purse on the table, taking out a sparkling metal chain that had a wide, dark loop attached to it.

She circled the girl's throat with it, closing it with a click. It looked tight, heavy.

"This is a collar, honey," she whispered into her ear. "This is what slave girls dream of."

The girl's jagged breath caressed the woman's cheek, accompanied by strangled squeals of panic. Smiling as she stepped back, the woman savored the sight of the naked girl trembling at the end of her chain -- the dark leather gripping her throat.

Ah, she thought, nothing compares to virgin experiences.

"It is just a plain old leather collar, honey," she said out loud, "and a chain leash.

"Exactly... the thing for... little... puppy girls."

Paced by the words, she twisted the chain one loop tighter around her fist until she yanked the girl's head close to her own.

"You do dream of this, don't you?"

The girl's brown eyes were as captive as her body. She swallowed against the tightness of the collar.

"Oh god," she groaned. Another long, agonized moan left her mouth.

"Ah yes... my so very Christian little slave," the woman said. "Follow me."

***

A girl, savored.

Their feet resounded on the floor of the corridor.

The soft slapping of the girl's bare soles kept time with the clicking heels of the woman who walked in front of her, tugging at the chain attached to her throat.

Cool air raised goose bumps on her exposed skin. It also breathed on her nipples, tightening them as she walked.

The left one still ached from her self-inflicted torture.

She knew the corridor well; below it was the bar. Left and right were the rooms she'd visited more often than she cared to remember. She wondered where the woman would bring her, and with what purpose. Not knowing added a thrill.

It was like wearing a virtual blindfold.

Her captured nakedness caused faces to turn her way -- familiar faces too. It made her heart pound. Walking around naked was no big deal at the club. It was the being led like a dog by a fully clad, indifferent woman that set her face and her crotch aflame.

Her feelings were in chaos.

She still felt the humiliation from coming so hard in front of women she knew and would meet again. At the same time, stabs of hot arousal numbed her shame.

Her wet thighs rubbed together, making embarrassing noises.

Could it be, she wondered, that she felt aroused because she was humiliated? It seemed sick to her. But she knew her knees were weak with the throat-choking thrill of it all.

Deep in thought, she bumped into the woman.

They'd reached an elevator she'd never seen before or even knew existed. The woman tapped a code into a box of buttons with her dark-painted nails. The doors opened and they walked into a warmly lit cabin.

It had mirrors all around, repeating her nudity.

She saw huge eyes, framed by a jungle of hair -- her eyes, her hair. She also saw the black slash across her throat where the collar was -- and the metal chain dangling between her breasts.

Behind her reflections was the woman's repeated face -- pale and vague in the darker background, but very present.

"Where are we going?" the girl asked, her lips shaping the words manifold in the mirror's reflection. "I've never seen this elevator."

"Shhh," the woman said. "Slaves shouldn't talk unless spoken to -- even would-be slaves. It makes their lives much easier." She smiled.

'Slaves.' The word licked at her ear.

The floor of the elevator rose with a start and came to a halt moments later. The doors opened onto a sparsely lit hall. The opposite wall was made of bright, creamy sandstone, chiseled with Jugendstil ornaments -- branches and flowers in the sensuous, feminine style of the early 1900s.

There also was a tall, narrowly arched entrance. A few steps led up to a door that opened with a mere push. Beams of sunlight streamed into the vast room behind it, flooding the marble floor with a golden sheen.

Soft piano music filled the air; a multitude of notes mixing like a sweet, endlessly rolling stream. Chopin, she knew, her fingertips remembering.

To the left of the room were high, vaulted windows, their bays strewn with cushions. They gave out on a patio or, more probably, a roof terrace. The girl looked around, stunned that the building would have private quarters, let alone such sumptuous ones.

To her right was a stone hearth, now closed with a painted screen. The furniture was sparse, but very elegant. There were low tables and chairs and a chaise longue, covered with gold-rimmed sky-blue silk.

She doubted ever having seen a space as graceful as this.

"You like it, honey?" the woman asked, startling the girl out of her reveries.

"I...," she said. "I never knew. It's lovely."

"Yes," the woman chuckled. "It better be. It cost a bundle."

"But, how...?" the girl went on, hesitating to find the right words. "I mean, is this yours?"

The woman smiled and led the girl to the windows. One was a door, giving out on the terrace. She walked into the sun, her hair moving with the breeze. The sounds of the city seemed far away.

Then she turned. She looked at the girl, seeing her naked body awash with the brilliant light.

God, was she sweet.

"No need for you to know, honey cunt," she said, smiling. "Just know that you're welcome."

She walked to the girl, holding her gaze.

"Sweetheart," she said, putting two fingers under the girl's chin to lift her face up to hers. Her mouth softly pressed into the weak, yielding lips. They opened at once, trembling slightly, but she just let her tongue rest on the pillow of the moist lower lip.

Then she retreated with a sigh.

"You kiss well," she said. "I bet you know that." And she chuckled. "Now please tell me, why did you follow me?"

The girl looked puzzled. Her hand rose, touching her lips. Then it went down to her throat and the leather band circling it.

"You have me on a leash," she whispered. "I could only follow."

The woman laughed out loud.

"Oh, but I know that, silly girl! You could have refused, though. Why didn't you say no? Why didn't you pull yourself free? It would have been easy.

"Even now it's easy."

She let the chain glide from her hand, watching it fall between the girl's breasts, hitting her slightly curved belly as the end slapped the floor.

The girl looked down on it.

"I don't know," she whispered.

The woman grinned, cupping the girl's face with both hands.

"You 'don't know, don't know'," she imitated. "But you do, darling. Your mind may not know, but your body does." Her hands slid down to the shoulders, breasts and sides until she fully cupped the girl's naked ass, pulling her closer.

"Your body does," she repeated, her mouth almost touching the girl's. "Tell me, do you ever listen to your body? Bodies are great thinkers, you know?

"Some are even geniuses."

The girl closed her eyes. She shrugged.

"Mine isn't," she said.

The woman's fingers slipped down her ass crack, finding her hot pussy lips from behind, grabbing them. A moan rose from the girl's throat; her eyes flew open.

"Yours is, honey," the woman whispered. "Oh, believe me, your body is... Eiiinnnsteiiiinnnn..."

The last word was stretched and stretched till it ended in a giggle. Two fingers slipped inside the vagina, making the girl rise to her tiptoes. She gulped a ragged breath, shaping the air into a hardly audible "Oh god..."

Just as suddenly, the woman let go.

"Now listen to your body, slut," she said. "Listen and be honest for once, goddammit." The girl gasped and blushed. The woman wasn't sure if it was because of the sudden release or of calling her a slut.

The girl stammered a protest, but the woman lashed out, striking her face with an open hand.

"Silence!" she yelled. Then she went on whispering. "How will you ever learn to listen when you keep blabbering all the time?"

The hand returned and smacked her other cheek, forcing her head to swerve to the side. A mane of black hair followed as if in slow motion. After a second, two crimson flowers blossomed where the hand had touched.

Tears streamed from the girl's eyes; a sudden anger surfaced.

"You...you," she spat, her voice strangled by rage. "You hit me! Why? I did nothing to you, okay?

"You can't just hit me!"

The woman remained perfectly still, letting the seconds stretch. The girl touched her cheek with her fingertips.

"I came here willingly, you know?" she went on, her voice indignant. "I did follow you, okay? I did all you told me and now... now you strike me?"

The woman still said nothing, fixating the girl.

"Kneel, slut," she then said, folding her arms before her chest and turning away.

She tried to sound unaffected, not betraying the racing heart only inches behind her crossed arms -- beating, pounding. There wasn't even the slightest tremble in her voice.

The girl's lips parted.

Her eyelashes opened and closed in a flurry. A strange, almost mewling sound left her mouth -- high-pitched, breezy. Then she sank to her knees, the chain rattling on the marble floor.

A sigh left the woman's mouth.

"Crawl to me, bitch," she said, turning back, the softness of her voice denying its harsh content. "Open my zipper. Find my cunt."

There was another hesitation, lasting a fraction of a second.

"Please," the woman added with a breath.

The girl's eyes shot left and right -- two little panicked creatures. Then she crawled on hands and knees towards the waiting woman -- dragging the chain over the floor. She raised her hands, her fingers finding the trousers' zipper.

Behind it, there were no panties, just a pale mound and a perfectly hairless, pale vagina.

"Lick me, slut," the woman said. The 'please' she added sounded more like an imperative than a kindness.

She grabbed the riot of black hair and pulled the girl's face to her crotch. The nose bumped into her mound; the mouth and chin mashed her swollen labia.

A groan vibrated into the flesh.

The woman spread her thighs a bit to give more access. Then she felt a pointed tongue split her cunt lips.

The next sigh was hers.

"Yes, little whore," she whispered. "You're good...gooooood!" And she moaned, throwing back her head. The pressure on her clit became almost unbearable, so she pulled the girl off her body, catching her eyes again.

The face shone with juices; the eyes had no focus.

"You are a good little bitch," she said, softly. "And you got me very aroused right now. But let's postpone the inevitable for just a bit longer.

"Would that be fine with you, honey?"

There was a hint of mockery in the question. The girl nodded, hardly understanding. She swallowed a non-existent lump.

"Then please follow me, puppy," the woman said, walking over to one of the rattan chairs on the deck. Her trousers hung open, resting on her thighs. She sat down, spreading her knees, softly tapping her naked thigh.

"Come here, girl. My cunt needs you."

Never looking if her soft command was obeyed, she took a champagne bottle from its cooler on the low table next to her and poured the sizzling content into a long-stemmed glass. When she felt the girl's hair tickle the insides of her legs again, she smiled and lifted the glass to her lips.

"Good slut," she sighed and allowed the cold bubbles to engulf her throat.

The girl's mind had long since been overruled by her body. It shivered when she heard the woman praise her, tickled by the rude term. She trembled beyond control as her flaring nostrils inhaled the woman's scent. The sensation spread in waves and weakened her knees. She had to lean heavily on the woman's thighs to hold herself up.

Later, maybe, she thought.

Later she would wonder what had made her kneel like this. Later she would ponder how she could have obeyed the damn woman even when her whole being still burned with rage and indignity.

Later, not now.

Right now, she feasted on being needed, being praised. She sucked the engorged pussy lips, her tongue sinking deep into weak, fragrant flesh. Biting and nibbling, she yielded to the pressure of the woman's hand, choking on the wetness that filled her gasping mouth.

By now she was even wetter herself.

When her tongue tip touched the hard button at the top of the drenched slit, electricity seemed to shoot both ways. Feeling the woman's lower body arch against her face, she mirrored the sensation by stiffening too. She became part of a circuit of currents, it seemed, binding the two of them together. There was a sudden feeling of closeness she'd never felt with a woman. Or a man for that matter.

It was like melting into a liquid body, becoming part of it.

She felt the woman come hard into her mouth, squirting sweet nectar across her tongue and spilling it down her chin -- she lapped and lapped, and swallowed.

The world rang with lustful cries and at least half of them were hers.

Then two hands grabbed her soaking hair and she was once again pulled up into that wild gaze -- its emerald fire lunging forward, straight into her mind.

"Be mine, girl," a voice said. "Be my bitch."

It might as well have been spoken in ancient Greek, for all she understood. The girl's ears were clogged, her mind was closed. There was just this blazing fire inside her, licking at her, pushing her to an edge she couldn't see. She was close, she knew, close to something she'd never felt before.

Then the flames subsided.

They left her body prostrate on a field of simmering ashes. As the heat retreated, a chill crept in, making her shiver. It was over and she had not come. A sob wrecked her body, but the green eyes summoned her, telling her everything was right.

And she believed them.

The eyes promised her there would be more, it would never end, and she believed them. She let out a protracted moan and fell face first into the soft sweet flesh that still shook with the spasms she'd caused.

She...

***

A girl, dismayed.

A century went by in her private realm of mind-stretching emptiness.

Then she felt the tip of a fingernail touching the base of her chin. It insisted, so she lifted her face to see what the finger wanted. The green eyes were waiting, friendly now, a friend's eyes.

The voice that went with it was intimate.

"Thank you, honey," it said, pouring warmth into the girl, a feeling of pride. "You lick cunt wonderfully. You made me come in a way I never did before. It also made me say something I haven't in quite a while.

"I asked if you would be mine."

"Yes," the girl whispered. "I love you too."

It meant nothing, of course, just the usual whimsical thing you say at the club. "Love you," not quite like "pass me the salt, please," but close. And then you giggle.

But the woman didn't even smile the superficial smile she expected. Nor the grin that admitted she knew they were just playing a game -- the club's frivolous game of play-acting.

She widened her green eyes at the girl's whispered promise of requited love. And her lips moved as if to search for words.

The awkward silence disturbed the girl. "Mistress," she mumbled.

"No," the woman said, regaining her decisiveness, covering it with a grin. "Don't call me that. You're not my slave, so I can't be your mistress.

"Today I'll just... satisfy your curiosity."

She grabbed the chain and yanked the girl closer.

"You seemed quite close to coming too, honey," she said. "But you didn't, did you?'

The girl gasped from the sudden tightening of the collar. Then she shook her head no.

"Please continue eating me then, darling," the woman said. "And I'll give you the precious present of an orgasm you never experienced before."

The woman's hands once more pulled the girl's face into the swamp of her soaked crotch. Strong thighs plugged her ears as they closed around her -- blocking her vision with a wall of smooth, pale flesh.

Hands ran up and down the girl's sides, her back, her spine. Then they reached under her chest, kneading breasts and nipples, pulling on them, squeezing them.

The girl licked and sucked, probing and vibrating into the woman's vagina -- inhaling her scent. She felt it tighten and spasm around her tongue. She added fingers for a slow fuck, her tongue drumming against the clit.

Her own pussy once more flooded and she started churning with her hips to generate friction. She felt the kernel of a climax build, but how could she ever come like this -- untouched?

Her free hand crawled to her clit.

Then the woman's thighs opened and her voice became audible again, although it seemed to come from far away.

"Nooo, sweet bitch," she heard. "Don't touch yourself. Fuck me with your fingers. Lick me good and make me come.

"You're such a great little toy."

The girl groaned, her voice muffled by the flesh filling her mouth, frustrated by the denial.

Then she heard a sound -- a rhythmic clicking on the marble floor. Visitors? Watchers? She stopped licking and looked up to the woman, who smiled and nodded.

"Soon," her mouth mimed.

She returned to the wet, shining vagina -- licking it, sucking. The sounds seemed closer now. Then they stopped altogether. Looking up she saw the woman's eyes staring past her, before they returned.

"Raise your ass, honey," she said. "Lift and spread your thighs."

Confusion invaded her mind, blowing away the pink clouds of her arousal, inducing fear. But she'd already spread her thighs.

There was breathing on her open pussy -- a panting sound.

A hot, slippery 'thing' ran up her slit -- was it a tongue? It startled her, making her gasp with surprise. Her hands tightened around the woman's thighs.

The 'thing' went on and on in broad, wet strokes.

She shivered, looking up, trying to find the woman's eyes, but a hand pushed her back down into the moist crotch, the thighs closing. Then the thing stopped.

A draft chilled her wet flesh.

Silence and darkness surrounded her, filled with the pounding of blood against her temples.

Then she yelped as a new 'thing' returned, rubbing her slit from her clit up to the tiny entrance of her ass, pushing. Panic struck, drowning the heat with ice-cold reality.

She jumped up, looking behind her.

"Oh god, nooooooooooo!" she screamed. Then she turned and ran for the open terrace door, into the room and out of the exit, the loose chain lashing her body.

She jammed her finger into the down button of the elevator, dancing with fear and impatience for the doors to open, looking over her shoulder with panic-filled eyes. She almost fell forward into the car when it at last arrived.

Her anguished screams echoed long after the elevator had left.

***