Abigail's Abduction Ch. 02

'My God!' she exclaimed, 'it's certainly hard to understand, but it's.....er.... exciting, though.'

She traced one of the wheals on my back, a fingernail lightly touching my injured flesh, suddenly bent over and kissed the place, and then scampered off, looking embarrassed, towards the kitchen.

After dinner, Trina invited Bea to join us for a drink, and when we were all settled down with glasses in our hands, me in my armchair, Bea next to Trina on the sofa, Bea said, after a couple of false starts which made us laugh, 'Miss Trina, I want to ask you something.'

'Go ahead, my dear, what is it?' said Trina.

'I don't know how to put this,' started Bea, 'but I wonder if you'd be prepared to....Oh, I don't know!'

'Look,' said Trina, 'if there's something you want to ask me, then out with it!'

In a tiny voice, looking at her knees, she said, 'I think I'd like to be whipped, like Miss Abigail.'

'You don't know what you're asking, girl,' said Trina, harshly, 'you haven't thought about it, have you?'

'Yes, Miss Trina, I have,' said Bea, 'please don't reject me!'

'I'm not doing anything of the sort,' said Trina, 'its just that I think you're too young.'

'No I'm not,' she pouted, 'I'm nearly twenty, and...and, well, it's what I want -- at least it's something I'd like to try.'

Trina looked at me, 'What do you think, Abigail. Do you think she should be whipped?'

I didn't know what to think. I didn't want Bea taking my place, and I hesitated, but Trina saw my reluctance to reply and laughed softly, saying, 'You have nothing to be afraid of, darling -- I love you, you know, and if I agree to punish Bea, you will be at my side. I may even let you whip her yourself.'

'Then if she is sure, yes. I think she's very pretty, and it would be very exciting to see her chained up and whipped.'

'Then I agree, Bea. You have tonight to decide if that's what you really want. If it is, I shall whip you tomorrow, after breakfast. Now, would you like to come to bed with us tonight?'

'Oh yes, Miss Trina,' she replied.

Half an hour later, we lay together on Trina's huge bed, Bea between the two of us. Subdued light from the bedside lamp made the maid look more beautiful than ever, her soft, platinum blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, pert young breasts pointing at the ceiling, where Trina's carpenter had installed a big mirror. I kissed one breast while Trina teased the other, biting the erect nipple with her white teeth, so that Bea gasped. I explored her crack with my fingers -- it was beyond moist, so I transferred my mouth down to her waiting pussy, sought her clit with my tongue-stud, thn licked the whole extent of her slit, pushing apart her labia, before forcing my tongue into the dark promise of her arsehole.

'Oh, Miss Abigail!' she cried, 'oh please!'

'You want me to stop?' I asked.

'Oh no,' she said, no, please go on!' It was obvious she was no 'anal virgin' and moaned with pleasure as I tongued her velvet tunnel, her orgasm coming quickly, as she writhed, then stiffened, cried out something in her native Portuguese, then was still. Trina pushed her gently aside and concentrated on me, our tongues entwining rapturously, as she provoked my clit with her long sensitive fingers. Suddenly she thrust the tips of all her fingers into my wet cunt, twisting hard as she sought entry.

'Oh!' I called, as the point made by her fingers widened into her fist, and then she was inside me, and I couldn't hold back any longer, my climax coming at me like an express train.

'Go to your bed now!' Trina ordered me, 'I'm having Bea to myself.'

I was put out by this, but did, of course, as she told me, casting a backward glance at the two of them, in time to see Trina grabbing a handful of Bea's fine hair, and pulling her had down between her long legs.

In spite of what I saw as a rebuff, I slept well, and woke to find Bea standing by my bed with my breakfast tray.

'Did you enjoy your night?' I couldn't resist asking.

'Yes thank you, Miss Abigail,' she replied, 'but most of all when you.....when you er...did that to me, you know.'

'When I tongued your arsehole, you mean?'

She looked away. 'Yes.'

'I want you to do it to me, too,' I told her, 'perhaps when you've been whipped, if Miss Trina doesn't mind?'

'Oh yes, Miss Abigail,' she said, 'and can I ask you something?'

'Of course.'

'Does she hurt you when she whips you? You see, I've never been whipped before.'

'Yes, it hurts,' I said.

'But you still want her to do it to you?'

'Yes, Bea, I do.'

She left me then, but was unable to resist another look at the stripes on my back, as I sat up naked on the bed.

Bea had been told by my Mistress to put on a long silk nightgown, and I wondered if she was going to punish her in the shower, as she had done me, but realised that the gown was, in fact, a part of the ritual Trina had formulated. She herself was clad in a severe long black latex skirt, so tight it must have been very uncomfortable, and a whaleboned black corset which left her gorgeous breasts uncovered, perched above it. She had affixed weighted nipple clamps, unconnected to each other to her protuberant nipples, and wore her long black hair piled on top of her head. Black patent heels of a prodigious height completed her ensemble. I wondered if I was correctly dressed, having also selected black, a tight, backless cocktail dress which showed off the pretty pattern of stripes on my back.

When Bea arrived in the play-room, just after I did, Trina ordered her to strip, and I watched as she slid the white, virginal nightgown off her shoulders, and let it whisper to the floor around her mules. I knew my job, and when Trina passed them to me, I clipped the restraints around Bea's ankles and wrists, and pulled her gently towards the horizontal cross, where she was soon spreadeagled, her beautiful hair falling down over her face, her round buttocks an open invitation to be whipped. She was trembling noticeably.

'You are frightened, aren't you?' said Trina, as she selected a short riding whip from the rack.

'Yes, Miss Trina. P-please don't hurt me!' stuttered the maid.

'It's too late for that, my dear,' said Trina, 'of course I'm going to hurt you. It's what you wanted, isn't it?'

'Yes, Miss Trina, but....'

Trina, stood close to Bea's head, grasped a handful of her hair, and pulled sharply.

'Be quiet now!' she ordered, then, to me, 'Feel the little slut's cunt, Abigail darling, will you. I'm sure she's ready.'

I obeyed, noticing that her anus, which I had probed the night before, was now more dilated, and I knew that Trina had penetrated her with one of her huge dildos during the night. Her pussy was wet, little droplets of her vaginal fluid glistening on her labia, and I couldn't resist opening her, and looking at her inviting pink cunt, which it was all I could do not to fall upon and tongue.

Trina impatiently tapped the whip against her latex-clad thigh, so I stood back, as Bea started to whimper, having seen the whip.

'I'm going to give you twenty strokes. Count please!' said Trina, as she tested the cruel whip through the air, then she touched it lightly to the soft flesh of Bea's buttocks, drew her arm back, and there was a swishing sound as the leather thong flew through the air, and a crack as it struck Bea's lower buttocks. Her scream filled the air as the whip's vicious sting drew a thin red line across both arse-cheeks, but Trina yelled at her, 'Count, you slut!'

'One,' gasped Bea, just in time for another violent stroke to surprise her by landing in the small of her slim back, where I knew it would hurt terribly.

'Two!' sobbed Bea, but the whip was already on its way again, this time slashing into her shoulder-blades. Trina was expert in making the next stroke land where it was least expected, and Bea's slender form was wracked by her sobs as the lash drew a brutal pattern on her. She squirmed and struggled against her bonds, and when Trina paused half-way, and nodded to me, I went up between the servant's legs and put my hand to her crack. It was soaking now, and I could tell that she was on the verge of orgasm-

'Don't cum yet!' ordered Trina, ferociously.

'Oh, Miss Trina!' wept Bea.

'I'll tell you when you can,' said my Mistress, and lashed the girl hard over her upper thighs.

'Eleven!' she managed to mutter, just before number twelve rained down on her lower back.

When Trina reached the seventeenth stroke, she paused and went to Bea's head, lifted her hair from her face and said quietly, 'You can cum now, my dear.'

As the next fierce stroke bit into her buttocks, Bea's scream was louder, more agonising, and I knew her release had come -- that she had climaxed. Milky fluid trickled out of her cunt, and dripped to the floor as Trina belaboured her with the last two strokes. Bea had taken her first punishment.

'Thank you, Miss Trina,' she said, as I released her from the cross.

'Take her to her room, Abigail,' said Trina, 'and tend to her back, will you?'

When I had finished soothing scented oil into her superficial welts, Bea showed her gratitude by going down on me, sucking my clit, her sharp white teeth teasing it unbearably, then she transferred her attention to my anus, pushing her tongue as deep as she could into my ready velvet tube. I came in a gushing torrent, soaking her face and neck.

'Oh, Miss Abigail,' she said, 'I've never been so happy in my life!'

Later, at lunch, Trina told me she was keen to have me marked. I remembered that Bruno had talked of having me branded, what seemed like a century ago, branded with a red-hot iron. I had agreed then, and now my beloved Trina wanted to mark me, to give me her seal. I told her she could do with me as she pleased, that I would die for her, and she came round the table and kissed me.

We discussed the project as if we were having a room painted -- Trina told me she had a contact, through someone back in New York, who would arrange it, and have a brand made, with Trina's family crest. We coolly discussed the location of my mark, and Trina decided it should be on the small of my back, where a lot of girls got tattoos. 'A lot of people will see it there,' she said, 'whenever you swim in a public place, or when you wear a backless dress. I trembled a little as I imagined the terrible pain I should surely feel, but Trina reached across the table and took my hand, stroking its back with her long-nailed fingers, soothing me like a dose of valium.

'So then, it's decided,' she said, 'you'll be marked as soon as the brand is ready.' She licked her lips in a characteristic gesture at the prospect.

When we made love that afternoon, I gave myself to my Mistress completely, surrendering to her every whim.