The Brand Ch. 06

The doctor could no longer resist beginning to undress, and flung the first of her garments, the ugly sweater, from her body. Quickly, she returned her attention to Melody. Her eyes still open, Melody stared hungrily into Geralynne's face. Slowly, the handsome, older woman crept closer.

"Ah, yes, yeah, oh, oh, oh! Oh God, oh God, uhhhmmm!"

The phone still pressed to her ear, Melody's hips began to quake as her juices dripped, painting the clef of her ass and puddling in the folds of Geralynne's comforter. An instant more and the slave's body went rigid as her triumphant clitoris reigned over the sudden jettisoning of milky streams of liquid up into the air. Mesmerized, Geralynne watched the spurts fall again to the sloping terrain of Melody's sex, belly and breast.

Melody's eyes had closed only for an instant. When they opened again, she leveled them once more at Geralynne's, reached her free hand down to her pussy, dipped her first two fingers inside, and then brought them sopping to her mouth for a good drink. Geralynne removed her bra, breathing heavily, and exposed her pale conical breasts and their pale pink nipples. Then, as she went about undoing her slacks, Melody extended the phone in her direction and said, smiling:

"She says she wants to talk to you."

Geralynne leaned in and took the phone while the slave luxuriated in her own juices and intermittently clenched the muscles around the segmented plug still vibrating inside her ass.

"Tucker?" Victria said serenely.

"Yes?" breathed Geralynne as she brushed her pants down around her ankles.

"Enjoy."

Victria pulled the cell away from her ear, tapped end, and then regarded Yazmina, a sly gleam in her eyes.

"Mira!" she shouted.

Her slave for the evening suddenly turned, her expression alert, her body relaxed. In her light brown hands, her red nails sharp and shining, she held a large glass platter and a dish towel.

"Si signora?" Yazmina said demurely.

"I bet you're glad you didn't have to go home with that bald guy with the pierced nipples." said Victria.

"Hell yes," Yazmina answered, "And what was up with that old lady?"

"You're also lucky you didn't go home with her." Victria remarked as she rose from her chair, "She's very much into needle play and not very good at it."

"Oh my God; so why did mistress Pam go with her?"

Shrugging, Victria pushed the chair back under the table, and then tossed her cell to the counter.

"Because she happens to also have a very long tongue she can use very well, I heard."

Yazmina laughed heartily as she set the dried platter onto a short pile she'd heaped by the dish drain.

"I'm sorry," said the Latina sweetly as she began to wring the dish towel in her hands and looked down at Victria's feet, "But I don't know where these should go."

"Of course you do," answered Victria; folding her arms before her, "You're just being a lazy fucking bitch; just like you're Puerto Rican mother raised you to be."

Yazmina scowled, but did not look up. In the growing silence, Victria watched as the Latina's eyes reveal the sudden insolence that was filling her mind. That didn't take much, she thought.

"Your mother," Victria continued, "I bet she's really loud, all the time, huh? And; I bet you go visit her, and still all she makes for dinner is rice and beans, every time."

"She doesn't yell." Yazmina insisted, "That's just the way she talks; Mistress."

"Right. And I bet she lets you know when you've put on weight, and then tries to make herself sound like she was being cute. Hey, does she introduce new cousins to you like every couple of years?"

Yazmina didn't answer.

"Does she?"

Slowly, Yazmina raised her head just high enough so that Victria could see her angry stare through the strands of gleaming red hair that hung over her face.

"No." she said; annunciating with venomous clarity, "She; doesn't."

"Did Geralynne make you shave your pubes because they were infested with lice?"

"What is you're fucking problem bitch!?!" hollered Yazmina; as she balled her hands up into fists, "Don't you think you're crossing a line here?"

"No." Victria answered, "I've only just walked up to it."

"Really?"

"Really. Me cago en la su madre. There; now I've crossed it."

The Latina's eyes went wild. Victria watched her every move; from her stunned dance of disbelief, to her quick retreat to the sink, her wide eyed search for something, anything, until the crazed naked woman withdrew an enormous kitchen knife from the dish drain. Entirely sober, her senses on edge, Victria watched her slave fling the blade in her direction, side stepped it, and then watched it fly, spinning, through the hallway, into the living room, where it finally disappeared somewhere inside the Christmas tree.

"Shit on my mother?" the slave screamed as she pulled one high heel, then the other heel, throwing them both at Victria, "So pendeja! Maldita sea la madre que te parió! My pussy is fucking clean slut!"

"Mama bisho." Said Victria with a smile, not certain if she'd told the maddened Latina that she sucked dick or that her mother did.

Screaming again, the slave lunged at her, and threw blow after open handed blow. Focused, Victria held her own, blocking swipe after swipe. Her intention was to tire the wench out before she got a good grip on her hair. Yazmina had come close once or twice, trying to gain purchase on her ears, to grab an ear ring and rip it out, but Victria knew enough to take them out ahead of time. Suddenly, she was surprised with a sucker punch to the gut. Keeling over, Victria propelled her falling body into Yazmina's. Together they fell, and rolled across the floor.

They were a mass of swinging arms and legs. As Victria tried to grab Yazmina's clawing hands, the Latina managed to rip off Victria's sweater and bra. Then, as she tried to protect her breasts, she gave Victria a good punch to the mouth. Suddenly more furious and sexually charged, Victria landed her own blow, an upper cut to the slave's chin. Though stunned, Yazmina put Victria in a choke hold as she pumped her legs and used her feet to scrape Victria's slacks and panties down to her ankles. But, the domme slipped one leg out from the tangle of clothing, got a good footing, gripped the Latina's head, and then slammed her back against the side of the refrigerator.

Victria felt Yazmina's body go slack. Breathing heavily, Victria kicked her clothes away and staggered toward the counter. She withdrew two sets of shackles she'd placed in the drawer earlier, and then returned to the wench. Once she'd bound the woman's wrists and ankles, Victria commenced to drag Yazmina by her thick red hair; her body moving smoothly along the shining wood floor. Once at the foot of the stairs, she thought better of continuing to drag Yazmina that way, so Victria picked the woman up in her arms and carried her up to her bedroom.

"Aye Mami! Yes baby. That's right. Eat my pussy. Eat that fucking pussy bitch!"

"Ouch. Easy. My lip still hurts."

"Oh yeah cabrona. So what? So does my fucking jaw; not to mention my back. Aye, aye, oh yes, yes Mami!"

Victria's face was slick with the drippings from Yazmina's delicate pink folds. Geralynne had insisted that her slave's vagina be off limits and aroused only through the very expensive Vulvanater; a wonder of modern technology, designed to bring its wearer to new heights of orgasm. However, both Yazmina and Victria agreed that was bull shit, that there was nothing like a practiced tongue and warm, soft, lips and that what Geralynne didn't know, didn't hurt her. They did however, honor the kissing code. They always had and they always would.

"Come on. Come on. Aye, aye, uhmmmmm oh Mami!"

Yazmina's body tightened into stillness and her mouth went agape as Victria affected her climax. Crash, came the first small wave. It was the sign, Victria knew, having eaten the Latina's intendedly forbidden pussy on a number of other occasions, to pour on the crisscross wagging tongue thing Yazmina liked so much. So she did, kicking it up, sending the woman's pelvis into an uproar. Victria felt Yazmina's finger tips trace the outer edges of her ears, and she winced as her pubic bone jabbed her swollen lip again and again.

"So," sighed Yazmina as they lay beside each other in Victria's bed, "Do you love her?"

The Latina studied Victria's eyes as she waited for her answer, thumbing her domme's clitoris into a harder shade of red. Victria regarded her and saw the past reflected in her eyes; all their days and nights of training, fighting, mutual devouring, Yazmina's ultimate thievery, her final whipping and then expulsion. She'd popped up again, somehow crossing paths with Geralynne, bleeding heart Geralynne, can't train her own slave Geralynne.

Yazmina begged Victria to keep her crime, the pilfering of eight thousand dollars' worth of jewelry, a secret, because life with Geralynne was just right: not too hot and not too cold. She'd never gone without, under Victria's care, but she'd been desperate to help pay off her sister's bond. For Yazmina, it was a matter of being at the right place at the right time, so she seized the opportunity. Then, once she'd gotten back from hocking the stuff in New York, she found Victria waiting in her mom's apartment, her mom and sister bound and gagged, Victria ready with shackles, chains and a switch she'd cut from one of the trees on her property. She'd ung Yazmina from a rafter in her mother's attic, gagged her and painted an artful geometric order of raised lines across her back, buttocks and thighs. Then, after Victria had taken photos of her work, unchained the girl and removed her gag, Yazmina begged to be kissed. So Victria kissed her, long and deep, for the very last time.

"I'm; starting to think so, yes."

"So what's the problem?"

Victria drew a great breath, and then let it out. The Latina watched as her domme's brow furrowed, she having only a surface understanding of the woman's turmoil, and knowing nothing about the memories inside her head; drab colors, rattling bones, cold metal, big money, angry red scars, Melody's beautiful eyes, the grim faces of men, Simon says, Simon saying nothing more.

"Jesus Yazmina, we have to talk about this now, while you're about to eat me?"

"Ooh, so sensitive. Okay, okay, okay."

Yazmina, though still sore from her beating, quickly crept across Victria's leg, and nestled her face in close to her swelling pussy.

"Did I hurt you well enough?" she asked before taking her first lick of Victria's clitoris.

"You did." Answered Victria; smiling, "Thank you. But next time, you need to make better use of the knife."

"Jesus, you're one crazy gringa."

"Hmm." Said Victria as she cleared her mind, let herself luxuriate under the practiced tongue of Geralynne's slave and imagined herself with Melody, their bodies intertwined, like lovely green flowered vines, rising into the plunging sky in spite of, as much as because of, the loving rain.