"Oh, Mistress, your breasts are perfect. I love them. I wish mine were more like yours. I feel like such a cow some days."
Robin leaned down and sucked one of the girl's nipples into her mouth, feeling it harden instantly. "No cow ever looked this good or tasted this sweet."
Then Robin stood at the end of the table between the girl's feet. She slid her body up onto the table, lying between the outstretched legs with her face just inches from Annabelle's recently denuded sex. "I'm going to have a feast today."
Robin lowered her lips to the petals which were already slick with arousal. She heard her girl inhale audibly as she touched the wet labia and then gasp as her tongue flickered out to touch the clit.
For over two hours, she teased the girl, bringing her close to climax but denying her the ultimate pleasure. Annabelle was moaning and groaning and begging throughout most of that time. She rocked her head back and forth and squealed each time she got close to the edge. Then Robin would stop, causing the girl to grunt and protest.
Robin slid a finger into the girl and slowly pumped it in and out as her lips and tongue kept enjoying the juicy sex. Annabelle was almost delirious as her mistress kept up the exquisite torture. The finger was adding a new dimension that felt wonderful to the bound woman.
Robin had to be more careful now. She was going to prolong this as long as she could but Annabelle was almost constantly on the edge of climax now. Robin's pauses became more frequent and longer. She slid a second finger into the girl at one point and continued her torment.
Robin was amazed at how wet her girl could get. And she truly viewed Annabelle as her girl now. She may be released each night but she belonged to Robin. And she was so remarkably lubricated. She's almost swampy, thought Robin as she slipped a third finger into the tight sex. And she seemed to be always aroused and ready for sex. She was like a fucking machine.
Annabelle groaned as the fourth finger stretched her sex and almost climaxed as the fingers started working their way in and out. Robin had to pause again. Annabelle was panting and gasping for air and Robin watched the beautiful, heavy breasts rising and falling on her chest with each breath.
"No, no, no, no, no!" protested Annabelle as Robin tucked her thumb alongside the our fingers and started to push.
Robin laughed at the response. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes."
Annabelle was squirming on the table, tugging at her bindings as she realized what her mistress was about to do. "No, no, no, no, no!"
Robin used her free hand to spank the girl's bald mound. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"
With one final push, her hand popped through and she was inside the girl. Annabelle let out a screech but it was more from the orgasm that wracked her body than from any pain that might be caused by the fisting. The orgasm was overwhelming and powerful and caused her to shudder uncontrollably.
Robin waited for the girl to settle down and kept her hand embedded in her slave. Then she began anew. She fanned out her fingers and let them explore inside her girl. She stroked the smooth silky vaginal walls, reveling in the creamy texture and let her tongue start flickering over the stiff little clitoris.
"Oh god!" shrieked Annabelle as she realized her mistress was not finished. "I'll die!!!"
Annabelle didn't die. Robin entertained herself with the girl's body throughout the day, keeping her fist lodged in her for several hours. They both lost track of the number of times she climaxed but it was over a dozen. She was spent by the time the day was over and actually fell asleep during the ferry ride. But she still had enough energy and she was still aroused enough to rape Charles when she got home.
He noticed the shaved sex and the lustful behavior of his wife. Once again, he vowed to himself that he would stop this once and for all.
Chapter 8 – Begrudged
Charles should have been delighted with the newfound sexuality of his wife. Certainly, he was one of the primary beneficiaries of his wife's visits to the Bedeviled. But he was too stupid to realize the benefits. And he was too jealous to think that she could have fun on her own. It never even dawned on him that he did the exact same thing with the slavegirl they had bought. He fumed all day, every day.
Annabelle showed up the next morning and spent the morning bent over a barrel, as Abigail had on her first day of slavery. Charles was in the fort again and watched, aghast, as he saw cocks sliding in and out of his wife's mouth, pussy and ass. This simply was intolerable in his mind. It would stop! He would stop it!!!
That afternoon, Annabelle received another gift from the pirates. She was marked. The tattooist was brought into officers' quarters where the girl was bound. She was perched on the edge of the table with her legs spread wide. Her arms were bound severely behind her back and secured to the table so she could not move.
The tattooist started by spearing his cock into the girl's gaping sex. After he deposited his sperm in her, he set to work. The tattoo was to be right above her clit. He did a little bit of work on it and then another male was brought in to fuck her. He filled her sex with his seed and then the tattooist worked a little more. Eleven loads of sperm were flooded into her sex by the men who were brought in to fuck her before the tattoo was finished. She was sent home with a black heart perched just above her sex on her mound.
"Charles would like you to come to dinner, Mistresses," Annabelle announced when she arrived the next day.
"Really?!?!?!?" replied an astounded Robin. "Why would he want to do that? I thought he didn't even like us."
"He said that, since I spend so much time here with you, he should get to know you better." They sent her home early that day so she could prepare for guests.
That evening, the three officers once again donned exquisite gowns. A coach met them at the ferry landing and Charles and his wife greeted them at the door. They chatted and sipped wine until it was time to eat and then they moved to the dining room for their meal.
Charles was gracious and pleasant. At times, he was even cheerful and animated as they chatted throughout the meal. The slavegirl who they had bought at auction served and attended to the needs of the diners. She was dressed modestly in a typical maid's outfit.
Robin started to think she had been wrong about Charles. Maybe he wasn't such a twit after all. He was both engaging and charming. After the dinner dishes had been cleared and they were waiting to be served the sweet wines that followed a fine dinner, Charles leaned forward in his chair.
"Ladies, I have some people I would like you to meet," he said. "Guards!!!" he shouted.
The doors on both ends of the room burst open and six men entered the room. Two stood behind each Blackheart officer. They looked like a shabby lot. They were clearly not military. They wore uniforms but they were poorly fitted and frayed. Robin assumed that it was some sort of local militia that Charles had formed for the purpose of capturing them.
Each of the officers always traveled with a dagger strapped to one thigh and a pistol strapped to the other. Isabelle and Rachel glanced toward Robin but, when they saw that she was not reaching for her weapons, they left theirs alone.
"Well, this is quite a surprise," said Robin calmly. "How do you do, gentlemen?"
"Seize them!" shouted Charles. "They are nothing but common criminals!" Annabelle was aghast. She looked at her husband incredulously. Why would he do this to her friends?
"What is going on, Charles?" she asked. She watched in dismay as two men grabbed each of the seated guests by their upper arms, holding them in their chairs.
"I am just ridding Bitter End of the pestilence, dear," he replied. "Take them to the jail."