Intergalactic Courtesan Ch. 10

She shook her head. "It was okay, but I really shouldn't say." Her voice cracked on the last part of the sentence.

"Don't worry, my dear." Veronica squeezed her arm. "You can tell me everything without fear of reprisal. In this case, your wellbeing is more important to me than keeping any secrets you might have learned about those two. Did they threaten you?"

Desirée shrugged, trying to keep her fear from rising again. Her eyes prickled with tears. "Prince Viloss told me he'd send the Grankhauer after me if I said anything, and Princess Felidia . . . she hates me. She tried to . . . she nearly--"

Veronica wrapped her arms around Desirée, holding her tightly. "It's all right, darling. They're gone and you will never have to deal with them ever again. You did very well, and I'm proud of you."

Desirée squeezed Veronica, letting the tears and tension flow. Her hands were shaking. Veronica murmured comforting words as she held Desirée and stroked her hair, letting the young courtesan have her release.

Finally, the storm of tears lessened. Desirée shifted in Veronica's clasp, abruptly aware that she was still naked. She could feel the heat from Veronica's body, through her dress, pressed against hers, her hands flat against her bare back. Veronica moved back slightly, letting Desirée have some space.

The young courtesan wiped her eyes. "I must look terrible," she said, trying to laugh.

Veronica smiled. "Moderately hideous, yes. Most girls don't look their best after they've been crying. Nevertheless, you had good reason. Here," she pulled out a handkerchief, "allow me." She began gently wiping the girl's face, her brown eyes intent, lips slightly parted. Desirée watched her work for several minutes, watching the brunette as she removed the tracks of her tears from her cheeks. Their faces were very close.

"There," Veronica said, leaning back slightly. "That should do it. Your hair," she ran her fingers through Desirée's mane for emphasis, "is still a rat's nest but . . ." She stopped when she caught the younger woman's smile. One of Veronica's hands was placed on the front of her shoulder, just above her left breast while the other was still nestled in her hair.

Slowly, tentatively, the two women's faces inched towards each other until they finally kissed. This time, it was soft, lacking the hard urgency of their earlier lovemaking. Their tongues danced with each other, caressing, finding each other's sensitive spots.

"But what about you?" Desirée asked when they had finished. Veronica's colour was high and her eyes were glazed with lust. "Do you have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the day?"

The small brunette gasped. "You're insatiable."

"Maybe," Desirée allowed, "but you didn't answer the question." Her finger traced the outline of Veronica's ear.

The older woman shivered and bit her lower lip. "I guess I have some time available," she admitted.

"Good." Desirée slid her hands down Veronica's dress, opening the mag binding. Veronica arched her back into the young courtesan's touch, hissing with pleasure. Desirée kissed her neck and shoulder, taking her time as she slid Veronica's dress off her trim, toned body. She was nude underneath, her breasts already swollen from need.

Veronica licked down Desirée's neck, ending at her left nipple. "Mmm, salty," she grinned. "Is there somewhere you'd like to take this?"

Desirée struggled to her feet and found she could walk . . . sort of. "This way," she murmured, taking Veronica's hands in hers, leading her to the padded table. Lifting her onto the table, spreading her toned legs and sliding her palms up the burnished thighs, placing her ankles in the padded restraints. They kissed again, tongues dueling wetly, stroking each other's flanks, breasts, shoulders and arms in a lover's Braille. Veronica moaned into Desirée's open mouth as the young woman lightly scratched the inside of Veronica's arms with her nails, lifting them over her head, clasping her wrists with her fingers.

Veronica's eyes widened when she realized Desirée's plan. But it was too late: her wrists were already locked in the cuffs. Desirée pulled back, her violet eyes wicked, her fingers trailing along Veronica's body, stretched invitingly on the table.

"You evil, evil bitch," Veronica said admiringly. "You had me totally fooled."

"I know," Desirée grinned. "You're right," she leaned forward and lightly kissed Veronica on the lips. "I am too tired. But that doesn't stop me from giving you the fucking you so desperately need, does it?"

"Oh no." Veronica jerked against the cuffs when Desirée patted the top of Pandora's Box. "Oh no you don't." But the hungry, glazed look in the brunette's eyes, the way her breasts heaved with every pant, told Desirée all she needed to know.

There was a strong exhibitionist streak in Veronica's nature: she enjoyed having other people watch her get off, knowing they were admiring her beautiful body as it was being ravished by a lover or machine. Pandora's Box wasn't just a wise investment for her. It was her way of making one of her secret pleasures a reality.

Desirée unsteadily walked over to the keypad and looked at it carefully, after shifting the Box into position between Veronica's thighs. "Now what do you think would happen if I started punching random numbers?" she asked innocently.

"You can't be serious, dear," Veronica protested, straining against the cuffs. "You don't want to do this."

"Are you sure?"

The question hung in the silence between them. Desirée, her hair matted with sweat, leaning on the Box for support. Veronica, held in the table's restraints, barely breathing.

The brunette bit her lower lip. "Press number combination 1-1-0-3, please," she finally said. She gazed into the younger woman's eyes, letting Desirée see her need.

"Why certainly," Desirée responded, looking closely at the LCD screen. "But look -- there's also a time delay function. I presume that delays the start of the program for a certain period of time?"

"No!" Veronica leaped against her restraints. "You wouldn't dare!"

Desirée grinned wickedly. "Remember: I owe you from when you left me hanging earlier today." She started pressing numbers into the keypad. "So . . . how does 15 minutes sound?"