tagNovels and NovellasFor the Love of Licia Pt. 08

For the Love of Licia Pt. 08

byangiquesophie©

Chapter Twenty-nine: Fleur de Lys.

"Wow," Angique gasped. "That is one angry woman."

The text lingered on the cell phone's little square until the light died. Angique looked up at Alicia.

"Why would you think she is Anna, honey?" she said. "I never saw her this... venomous." Alicia shrugged. A wry smile touched her lips.

"My cell gives no caller identity. Maybe she isn't Anna," she said. "With the reputation the woman accuses me of it could be anyone. I must have a lot of enemies. But if it is Anna, I guess I deserve what she says." She blushed and her eyes went down. She fingered the cell phone nervously. Angique closed her hands around hers.

"Alicia," she said. "Now listen carefully to me. I know you are a slut who thinks with her cunt whenever she is seduced. I have no illusions about that anymore. But I also know it was me who almost challenged Anna to seduce you. I used you to make her jealous, just as I have been using Anna to punish you. Then she again used you to pay me back in kind. If anyone is to blame here, it isn't you." Alicia started to object.

"Don't," Angique said, raising her hand. Alicia's mouth stumbled halfway through a soundless protest. Then she sighed.

"I just feel so guilty."

Angique squeezed her hands.

"Don't," she said, again. "This isn't about you. There is no reason for guilt or it must be on Anna's part. She promised me things she could not deliver. She is a proud woman with a large ego that can be easily wounded -- too easily for the slave she promised to be."

There was silence. Then Angique groaned with frustration.

"But of course I can't blame Anna. Wouldn't that be too easy, too cowardly? No, it is me!" she said, protracting the "me." "I am the guilty party -- and a hypocrite to boot. It was all about you, Licia. I had to have you. And when I couldn't get you, I turned all my pain and frustration on poor Anna. I used her; I just used her -- and she retaliated in kind when I dumped her."

Angique once more waved away Alicia's protest. Then she sighed. It made her pale tits press into the half-cups of her leather corset. The Salon was quiet and still almost empty. The tea in their glasses had turned into a dark, cold slush.

"Sweet Licia," Angique went on, her voice warm and soft now. "Please tell me who you really are. You can't be this meek person who is always sorry for the wrongs she inflicts on the world. I won't let you." Her smile removed the irony from her words. Alicia mirrored it with a twitch of her lips. Then she sighed.

"You are so lovable, Angique. But believe me, it is all wasted on me. The texts on my phone are wrong in many ways. I am not a cruel person, but yes, I am weak and I hurt people. I never mean to hurt, though. I am just a confused, silly woman -- shallow as you once said. I am only here to forget, but you insist there should be more; that I could be a better person. I never was. I never will be." She shrugged until her shoulders almost touched her earlobes. Her eyes widened to apologize for what she said. It made her look entirely lovable. Angique grabbed both her wrists, pinning them down.

"I love you, Alicia," she said, her voice carrying a tremor. "I know you don't love me, but it doesn't matter. I love you. I must have you. It goes against all logic and wisdom, but it kills me not to have you."

The sudden outburst caused the girl to freeze in her chair. Her eyes dashed left and right -- like birds before a cobra. Alicia probably didn't even feel Angique's fingers when they started to undo the upper three buttons of her blouse, pushing up her soft, sheer bra. Only when cool skin touched her exposed nipple, her eyes went down to watch Angique's hand cupping her left breast. A shudder ran through her when fingers started to softly massage her flesh.

"I want to give you a present, Licia," Angique said, her eyes focusing on what her hand did. Her thumb rubbed the nipple, making it swell.

"Would you accept a gift from me?"

Alicia didn't answer. Her emotions were jerked in every direction. She closed her eyes. The tip of her pink tongue showed between her lips.

"Is that a 'yes,' honey?" Angique asked, wetting her fingers on the girl's peeping tongue. She pushed the fingertips in, feeling soft lips closing around them. They automatically started to suck. She pulled out and returned to the massage of the dark nipple, making it shine with rubbed-in saliva. Angique pinched it and pulled it out. Alicia moaned. Then, just as sudden, Angique abandoned the aroused flesh. Alicia's eyes flew open, puzzled.

"Look," Angique said. Her open hand displayed a piece of jewelry. Its white gold gleamed -- or was it silver? Alicia had to focus her eyes, still misted over from her arousal. There was a ring, she saw. Attached to it was a pendant in the shape of a French lily. How did they call it? A fleur de lys. Its setting was white gold too, but the stone at its center sparkled a greenish light -- emerald, like Angique's eyes.

"So beautiful," she whispered, tentatively reaching for it. She wondered what it might be -- an earring? But there was only one. Then her mind connected her exposed breast with the jewel that lay close to it. She shivered.

"Nooo," she said in awe, breathing the word. An excited tingling gripped her nipple. It stiffened more and pulled the flesh of her oblong areola with it. Goosebumps ran all over her body.

"Oh God, you wouldn't," she said. "Would you?"

"Would I what, honey?" Angique asked, reaching for the nipple with her other hand.

"The true question is," she went on, "would you?"

***

The moment the elevator doors opened at the floor of Villa, darkness fell over Alicia's eyes. The black velvet of a hood clung to her face, reminding her of a day not long ago. She gasped. The hood smelled of flowers. Small and distant sounds rushed in, amplified by her lack of vision. The beat of her heart pounded in her temples. She forced herself to breathe. Then she reached for Angique's hand to guide her.

There was the familiar creaking of the main door; the clicking of heels on cool marble. Then she noticed the one-sided glow of the fireplace. She felt warm lips touching her throat and a voice whispering, "stop." She stopped, waiting. Hands started taking off her clothes -- the torn blouse, the skirt. Fingers carefully rolled down her stockings. Her tits spilled out of her bra and the air caressed her exposed, hairless crotch. She was naked. She felt moisture collecting in the folds of her vagina. The forced helplessness made her feel like she so often did with this woman -- scared and yet overwhelmed by an incredible arousal. She wanted to run and yet longed to crawl into Angique with every atom of her body.

The conflict caused her eyes to burn with unshed tears.

"Honey."

The hood made Angique's voice sound muffled and distant. Alicia tried to move her face in its direction.

"My gift will involve pain," the voice went on -- toneless, matter of fact. "That pain will be your gift to me in return for my present. The pain is as precious as the jewel -- maybe even more precious. Honey..." The voice was closer now. "This is your last chance to refuse."

Alicia kept silent. She was scared, but incapable of responding. Once more she felt like so often with this woman -- suspending her reactions, unable to even move. A cool slick object slipped around her throat. She heard a click. Something heavy rested on the base of her neck -- was it a collar? Then there was the rattle of a chain -- a tug urged her to follow.

She followed.

Doors opened and closed. Cold stone chilled the bare soles of her feet. She was carefully guided down the steps of a spiraling staircase. Sounds caused echoes. The air got chillier, sending shivers down her body. Heavy metal seemed to scrape on stone, as if a large door was opened -- and shut again. A last handful of steps led her up to an elevation -- a stage? An altar? Hands pushed her into an upright position, forcing her legs to spread. Leather closed around her ankles. Chains rattled. There was a metallic click -- and another. She could no longer move her feet.

She felt a kiss on her ass cheek. Then two hands folded her arms behind her back, making her hands grip her upper arms. Cool, soft leather was wrapped around them until they were tied together, forcing her chest out. She exhaled a very scared little moan. It made her breasts shiver -- her tits.

Another kiss touched her skin, now right between her... tits.

"You are so brave," the muffled voice said, followed by a silvery chuckle.

She once more heard the tapping of heels. The sound diminished as Angique obviously left her. There was the scraping of the metal door again, opening, closing. And at last the clicking heels were gone. Silence ruled, filling gradually with tiny creaks and murmurs -- sounds that otherwise would have stayed well beyond her level of hearing. Her eyes stared into the hood's darkness as she wondered about the rustling and the scratching she heard -- were they scurrying rodents? Insects? Birds even? Or just the sighing of a huge and ancient building? Memories of an earlier spell of waiting returned, but this time she felt no panic, no anger -- not even fear. There was just -- waiting, a slow and well-known waiting, measured by the beating of her heart. There also was the ice-cold air, seeping into her flesh. But she did not care. She'd learned how to concentrate her warmth, leaving the marble-like outer layers of her body to guard her. She never even shivered.

Horses were able to sleep standing up, she once heard. She wondered if they felt what she felt now. And then she stopped wondering, her thinking becoming too slow to even be aware of her thoughts. Her consciousness became like the static of an abandoned tv-set. A smile stretched her cold lips inside the hood -- for no one to see.

She wondered how a statue might feel.

***

Moist heat closed around her nipples, but they were too numb to feel it. Her skin was like stone, too cold to feel the glowing hands caressing it -- her cunt was too icy for the licking tongues. But she thawed and started feeling -- trembling. A slow, tortured moan rose from her mouth. In her darkness she felt every glowing inch of naked skin that hugged her -- radiating their warmth to seduce her back to life.

Suddenly Alicia shook with the emotions she had stored away. There was anger, fear and panic, but they dissolved into entirely different feelings of relief and even gratitude. An irrational elation urged her to laugh out loud while lips and tongues and fingers set fire to her body. Darkness enhanced her senses. A trillion needles attacked the numbness; hot waves flushed her shaking body.

The marble statue melted into a torch, reaching out to find a hidden fuse that would make it explode...

But then, just as suddenly, she was alone again.

She wailed with frustration. Her body swayed to reach for the lost touches and feel the sweet lips again. The spots where tongues had left their moisture turned chilly. It made her shiver.

"P-pleeease," she groaned, her proud stance crumbling. Right then white-hot pain slashed across her back and bottom, her bound arms and the tops of her thighs. She howled when the slashes repeated themselves -- parallel and cross-wise.

Alicia slumped forward, only held up by hands that used her like a shield against the ongoing flogging. Her body was a true torch by now, pain licking her like flames; it never stopped. Her consciousness slipped away, as if her soul had decided to leave her flesh to burn at the stake. Sounds diminished -- the cracks of the whip, her own wailing voice, it all floated away from her. There were no longer separate slashes, just solid waves of hurt -- a sea of flames. She stopped feeling pain; she became pain. It felt like a scalding bath -- as if she were submerged into a sizzling cauldron, a vessel filled with the holy, boiling waters of ... baptism? She recoiled from the perverse blasphemy of her thoughts. But at the same time her body exploded into the most complete orgasm she ever felt.

Supporting hands lowered the body. Tongues traced the labyrinth of bruises and welts, tasting sweat and blood where the skin had broken. Slippery hands rubbed soothing salves into the tender flesh. Naked girls hugged their unconscious sister, crouching in the shadow of a towering Mistress.

The whip curled down from a gloved hand, gleaming with the juices it extracted from its victim's flesh.

***

She was held from behind. Hands cupped her tits. An all-encompassing weight of softness pressed on her, covering every inflamed inch of her back. Hot air breathed down her neck. All was night, she could not see. But she could moan into her private darkness -- and she did.

She was naked, she knew. She also knew it left her open -- open to danger. The sense of security that her private darkness gave her was false. She knew there was no safety. Her legs were spread; her cunt was bare and open. It felt the icy touch of a draft. She was exposed, open to anyone who'd want her. She could be fucked by anyone -- she could be raped. Did that scare her? It should, but it didn't. She felt no fear. Maybe she wanted to be raped? Where was she? Why was she here? Why was she naked, exposed -- helpless? Did she care? No, she didn't. She pushed her flogged body into the hugging embrace. It made her feel wanted, cared for -- safe? She didn't know. She didn't know if she cared. She moaned.

"Do you hurt, honey cunt?" A voice inside a hot breath caressed her neck. She slowly nodded. Yes, she hurt.

"Do you understand why?" Why? She didn't know why, or did she?

"You needed to be punished, honey cunt." Punished. Ah, yes, punished.

"You hurt me, Licia. You hurt me badly." The automatic "sorry" stuck in her throat. Fingers started kneading her breasts -- tits. Tits. They caressed her sides, her hips. A hot wetness closed around her left nipple -- lips? Something invaded her vagina -- cunt she must call it, her cunt. A tongue? Hair tickled the insides of her thighs. New waves of heat spread out into her body, pushing the old pain out. Then there was light; a sudden light. She gasped.

Through tearing eyes a gold, dancing haze came into focus. Torches she saw. Flames, living flames. She looked down on her tit. The sucking mouth belonged to a flaxen-haired head. A blonde girl suckled her; a blonde that she knew. What was her name? Little Bobbi. Lower down there was another girl; a darker blonde head between her thighs, fucking her with a rapid tongue. Warm, generous breasts pressed against her leg. Valerie. Wasn't she Valerie?

Lust drifted in, replacing thought, allaying fear. She swayed on her legs, slowly fucking back; shivering.

"I need your pain, Licia." The voice was louder now. A voice she knew well. Angique's voice. "I told you I need the gift of your pain. But it isn't enough, honey cunt. I need more. There will be more."

The warm soft body that had hugged her, left her now, allowing cold air to hit her ravaged backside. But her growing arousal drowned the pain. Through the mist it caused she saw a dark, demon-like creature walking up to her. Its face was in darkness, its body's silhouette blurred by a halo of torchlight.

"Look at me, lil slut," the creature said with the voice of Angique. Warm hands cupped her cheeks; green eyes shone at the center of the darkened face. She felt the mouth around her left nipple sucking harder. It used teeth now, bringing her arousal to the brink of pain. Stiff objects invaded her cunt -- a finger? Fingers? A tongue vibrated against her clit. She moaned, trying not to fall into the green glowing eyes.

"Tell me you want to give me more pain, honey." The voice was soft. Friendly. The hands caressed her face, her throat. She wanted so much to agree, but the words jumbled inside her head. They were like headlights on a misty road -- appearing, disappearing, but never in a logical sequence.

"Tell me," the voice prompted as the teeth bit down on her nipple. She cried out in pain.

"Give... pain... yes, yes... give you...more..." A squirt of juices coated the probing fingers. Her knees gave in to the wrecking climax. The dark creature chuckled. Its fingers cleared strands of sweaty hair from Alicia's face. Soft, soft lips pressed themselves onto her mouth. A fat tongue slid in, searching hers to strangle. A hungry kiss stole her breath away. The teeth around her nipple gnawed on the tender flesh. More fingers fucked her, one sliding up her ass hole.

"Beg me for the pain, lil bitch," the voice went on, hoarse now with urgency. A new orgasm robbed her of the air needed to answer. "Beg me!" The words were like magnets, trying to pull the right words out of her.

"Oooooh," was all she could say. A hand slapped her face, hard. She cried out and started sobbing.

"Yes! Yes!" she heard someone cry in agony. "Yes, please Mistress! I give it to you. Please take it. Take my pain!" The voice was hers, of course, but the words were cut off by a new kiss. Her tit screamed, her cunt kept flowing. They were all that was left of her -- all she needed. She just felt the one ache -- to reach another orgasm and drown in it forever.

The orgasm came. And when it struck, a blinding pain seared through her abused nipple. She threw her head back and her desperate cry bounced around the vaulted ceiling, echoing from wall to wall before returning to the ravaged girl who slowly sank to her knees. A long, glowing needle pierced the tip of her left breast, before a black clad demon pulled it out again, giving the fainting girl a second dose of excruciating pain.

"Suck the blood from her nipple!" the demon hissed. "And you, lick the piss off her thighs where she wet herself."

With Alicia's screaming gone, all that could be heard now were the soft wet sounds of suckling and licking -- and the panting breath of the dark creature, standing over the pile of naked flesh. It pushed one black claw up in the air, holding a jewel that sparkled in the torchlight.

"Give me her tit," the creature growled. One of the girls grabbed Alicia's hair to pull her head up, arching the girl's back so her tit came on display. One drop of ruby blood slid from the punctured nipple down the pale flesh. A leather clad claw hovered over it. It pushed the sharp edge of an open ring through the pierced flesh. A hot glowing rod melded the metal to insure that the white gold ring could only be removed by destruction. A sparkling French lily lay against the soft skin, right next to the drop of blood. It was attached to the ring from which it would proudly dangle.

"Bring her to," the creature said, its voice almost human again.

The two girls propped Alicia up. They freed her from the leather belts around her arms and the chains at her ankles. Smelling salts invaded her nostrils, making her eyes pop open. More lights came on. Alicia groaned. Her arms were aflame, so was her back. The nipple of her left breast throbbed with a new, numb pain.

"Welcome back, Licia," a voice said. "You are mine now." She looked up into the face of Angique. She saw no demon, just a tall woman in tight black leather -- a smiling woman.

"Look what I gave you, honey," she said, nodding at the girl's left breast, the throbbing one. She looked down. The nipple was twice its usual size. Through it ran a ring and from that ring dangled an inch-long white metal French lily, containing a sparkling emerald stone. It was scary. It was beautiful. She cried.

Angique sank to her knees, hugging the girl. She cupped the pierced breast, making its flesh contrast with the black of her glove. Her thumb lifted the lily to put it on display.

"Look, honey," she whispered. "Isn't it awesome?"

Alicia just rested her head against the leather shoulder. Her tears sparkled as brilliantly as the jewel on her chest.

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