Slave Wager

"I hope you at least got some small measure of revenge tonight," he whispered, pulling her body against his.

After a thorough whipping, Robin had ordered Victoria to crawl out to the main room, where she had been strapped spread-eagled to a padded table. For more than an hour, Robin had mercilessly tickled, teased, and aroused her helpless captive, using her hands and mouth. When Victoria was writhing on the table, begging for that tiny increase in stimulation that would trigger the blessed relief she desperately craved, Robin had left her for the night. Let that bitch endure a full night of horrible whimpering need and desire!

Robin grinned wickedly. "Yes, I got some revenge tonight." She squirmed a little, imagining the brunette twisting futilely, the straps pinning her in position.

"Good, then let's get some sleep." He hugged her close.

She pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. A wave of contentment washed over her. "An important piece," she whispered, "like the queen . . ."

He grunted in response.

"Am I the queen, Master?"

"Go to sleep, slave girl," he grumbled.

"Yes, Master." Robin closed her eyes, still smiling.