The Palace Ch. 02

She licked her lips again, and her hand tightened around my cock. Her compliance last night had been startling, and the instinctive flicking of her tongue and the firm grip of her lips around my shaft had made me suspect that it was not, in fact, her first encounter with a penis. The Palace chose very carefully, though, and so I had to believe that her skill stemmed from allowing her natural curiosity to overcome her fears. Indeed, her treatment of my cock tonight served as proof of her inexperience.

Her warm, moist lips touched the head of my cock, then parted, sealing around my shaft. I took a firm hold on her braid to keep her head in place and thrust deep into her mouth, then forced her to remain still as she gagged and retched. I backed away after just a moment, uninterested in having to pause for a punishment now. That would come soon enough, I was certain.

She moved her head forward more cautiously this time, both aware that I might repeat the maneuver and that if she protested or fought me, she would be punished. She would learn the lesson well and often, that it is always better to obey, even if the task is unpleasant, because the punishment will always be worse than the task.

She took me in again, her tongue flicking against my shaft in that way that had so captivated me last night, and I allowed her to explore and experiment. Her lack of reluctance in this was refreshing and arousing. Perhaps she would earn a reward. I pushed deeper, though not as far as before, and she quickly caught on to the notion that she should not stay at the tip, but that she must move back and forth.

"You are doing very well, sweet girl," I praised.

And there it was, that slight upcurve of the corners of her mouth, even stretched as her lips were around my cock. A smile from a slave girl. How could it be? I pulled away, and her head moved with me, surprised that I had stopped her.

"Show me your smile," I said.

She tried, though the attempt was a caricature of a genuine smile. It lacked the honesty and spontaneity that had been so interesting. I challenged myself to elicit another true smile this evening.

"Resume your work." I moved forward again until the head of my cock bumped against her lips, and she opened her mouth and allowed me entrance. "You may use your hand as well," I instructed. She curled her fingers around the base of my shaft while her tongue continued its exploration of the head and her lips caressed my length. She could only take me less than halfway, and I knew her handler would be training her to accept more, even down her throat, but that would take time. Her fingers tightened around me, and, without direction, she moved her hand in parallel with her lips. "Yes, sweet girl! That's good." Intelligent and eager to please. Was it so strange that I would find her so engaging? "Now faster."

I'd come quickly this first time so I could take my time with further activity. I craved her lower passages, needed to again feel the embrace of her warm, tight holes.

Her head bobbed back and forth with more speed, and her tongue now traveled along the underside. I allowed my orgasm to build, and the knowledge that she would soon earn another punishment further hastened its approach. I took firm hold of her braid just at the base of her skull and thrust deep, so that she gagged again, making small sounds of alarm. She instinctively brought her hands up to brace herself against my thighs, and the spasms of her throat brought me to my climax.

"Yes, sweet girl, here it comes!" I cried as my first load of seed filled her throat. I backed away so that she would not choke, and she coughed and sputtered and fell face-first into the rugs, chest heaving, with my seed dripping down her chin. She scrambled upright, but I caught the telltale hitch of her breath. She knew she had failed me. "Is my seed so distasteful, girl?" I made my voice stern, but I was secretly impressed that she had not tried to push me away. I would go easy on her, I decided.

"No, Master."

She also did not wipe away the residue, and it was clear she had managed to swallow some.

"And yet you choke and spit out my essence." That was not a question, and she did not respond. "Why?" I added.

"I was surprised, Master, and I could not breathe."

"You will not be surprised next time." As far as she knew, there would be no next time, but now I had planted the idea that she might encounter me again. Or perhaps she thought I meant "next time" in a general sense, as the same order would apply for any client. I did not like thinking of her with someone else.

I had never felt possessive of a slave girl before, any more than I had mused about the color of her eyes. What was this girl doing to me?

I dampened a towel from the pitcher of water and cleaned her face, then kissed her forehead. "Stand."

She stood, though she had to lock her knees to support herself on rubbery legs. I guided her to the table.

"Climb up and lie on your stomach with your legs together and your arms at your sides."

She hoisted herself up and did as she was told, though now she was crying. I added a discipline mark to the back of her neck, then left her lying there as I surveyed the implements available to me, neatly arranged in the wardrobe.

The belt, I decided. Something new. The Palace provided several belts of various widths and weight, but I would use my own. The familiar, supple leather would add a personal note to this punishment. I removed the belt from its loops on my discarded trousers and returned to the girl's side.

"Ten lashes, girl. Keep still."

I caught the faint whimper, and her fear began to feed my desire once again. I folded the belt in half, raised my arm, and brought it down on her behind. Expecting the paddle again, she jerked, her hips rising off the table, and wailed. The pain of the belt differed from the paddle, experienced over a narrower region but deeper as well. The paddle left a sting on the surface of the skin. The belt was more bruising.

"One," I said.

All of her muscles tensed in her determination to heed my order. I would not add lashes even if she moved, but she did not know that. I was pleased to see her anticipating my actions. I aimed the second lash for her other buttock. She only hissed through her teeth this time. The same for the third, and the fourth, but the pain began to catch up to her then, and her instincts told her to try to move away from the source of the pain. The sixth lash brought her up on her knees and elbows, as though she were about to crawl forward, but she stopped herself and lay flat again.

"Good, sweet girl. You are taking your punishment very well."

At my words, she exhaled, then inhaled slowly. Her fists were clenched, but her buttocks relaxed. She was stoic through the final four, though she wept silently behind her blindfold.

I let the belt fall, disconcerted by the strange desire to comfort her that now ruled my thoughts. I shook my head, trying to dispel the incongruous feeling. She had performed poorly, and she had been punished, and that should be the end of it.

"Slide off the table now," I ordered. She pushed herself backward as she had before and stood with her arms stiff at her sides, shifting her weight from foot to foot and biting her lower lip.

Fear. My cock twitched. The pills were more potent than I expected. Or perhaps it was this girl who had such an effect on me!

I cupped her chin and kissed her lips, then guided her by the hands to the bed. "Lie down, sweet girl," I directed, placing her hands on the mattress.

And there it was, the most fleeting of smiles, but real. I wished to know what was in her head. I wished to know her name, her interests. Why had she chosen the Palace over a normal life? How had such a lovely creature remained pure and untouched?

Why was she smiling?

She settled herself on her back, resting her head on a pillow, somehow conveying both absolute wonder at such comfort and the entitlement of a lady in her manor. She sighed deeply, opened her mouth as if to say something, then stretched out her legs and grimaced, possibly at the residual pain in her buttocks.

Did other visitors to the Palace take such interest in the slaves they used? Did they make conversation, become enamored of a particular girl, request her repeatedly? I had never thought to ask. Men of power and position did not discuss their baser exploits. Most visited the Palace at least occasionally, yet all pretended they would never patronize such an establishment.

This girl wouldn't know. I was her first and only.

She lay quietly, awaiting my touch or an order, nostrils flared, head turning from side to side listening for me. A few hairs had escaped her braid, and I brushed them from her forehead, traced her cheekbone with my fingertip, bent to kiss her again. My cock sprang to life at her tentative attempt to return the kiss, lips firming up and then parting to allow my tongue entrance. My hand found her breast, and I toyed with her nipple, eliciting a genuine moan of pleasure.

I broke away—wrenched myself back, really. I could have kissed her all night, twined my fingers in her hair and held her close, asked her about her life before and how she'd come to the Palace, about her dreams for the future, about her childhood, so different from my own, no doubt. Did she like horses? I had a stable full of horses, though I rarely rode. Perhaps she'd like to ride one.

No! She could not ride one of my horses. She could not come anywhere near my manor. She could not know who I was!

"Spread your legs," I ordered, in as gruff a tone as I could muster. I had to fuck her and get away, before these strange feelings made me do something I would surely regret later. She was a slave girl, a Palace whore, and I had no business showing interest in her beyond her mouth, her pussy, and her ass. None. It would do neither of us any good for me to coddle her or show her tenderness.

Her forehead wrinkled briefly as she caught my change of mood, probably wondering if she'd done something wrong. I forced myself to remain silent, not to offer the words of reassurance that leapt to my tongue. Her legs opened, and I climbed up between them, pushed her thighs back and held them as I aligned my cock. She cringed, remembering the pain from last night. Again, I held back soothing platitudes, for my own sake.

I pushed forward, took her in one strong thrust. She whined as I entered, legs tensing against my hands, but the pain was less than anticipated. She seemed almost puzzled by that. Her channel embraced me, tight still, and her whine became a deep moan as I completed the thrust. A few gentle strokes, and I saw her relax, experiencing no pain, and she drew her knees in, biting her lower lip.

I moved faster, fingers digging into her thighs, listened to her moans, her quick breaths, watched her brow crease as she struggled to understand her own reactions.

I supported myself on my hands and gazed down at her, my cock buried in her velvety cunt, untouched by any but me. How rare a blessing that was! I kissed her again, and I knew I was lost. I fucked her with abandon, lips locked with hers, and her hand came up to my face, a faint, hesitant caress.

"What have you done to me, sweet girl?" I murmured against her mouth as I came, making no effort to hold back.

"Master?"

I withdrew and backed up so that I could taste her, parting the lips of her pussy with my thumbs. She quivered, then cried out when my tongue found her secret center of pleasure, engorged with her own arousal. Her cries continued as I worked, my lips treated to her sweet juices as she writhed against my face. I sucked, swirling my tongue around that hard little nub, reached up with one hand to pinch her nipple. She arched her back, mouth agape in a silent scream, toes and fingers curling, until a shudder passed through her, and another, and then she finally shrieked and then relaxed, panting for breath.

I crawled up her body to kiss her again. I still had her anus to try, but somehow the thought of causing her pain again did not appeal to me. I was spent now, and I had two more nights yet with her. I could ease her into it, teach her to enjoy that as much as the other, bring her to climax with my cock in her ass.

A challenge.

I lay down beside her and rolled to my side, lay an arm across her middle, and kissed her cheek. "I will see you again tomorrow night, my sweet one."

"Yes, Master." She smiled.