At the cell door the guard snapped a short chain into her wrist cuffs, linking them so that they touched. A second longer chain joined them from above the bed frame, which meant that she would be able to move around the cell. Alone, she stared unseeing around its confines and thought about the events of the day.
Outside Leonora's office Kai had removed her blindfold and then led Emily gently downstairs into the main hall and there… Emily could hardly bear to think about it.
The guests at Deuvar had free access to all the public rooms as well as a number of private suites. Well dressed men and women had been taking breakfast in an exquisitely furnished dining room over-looking a magnificent formal garden. Emily had been acutely aware of her nakedness and, worse still, of the thick leather harness that secured the device into her anus.
Eyes turned toward her as she'd walked in, unashamedly assessing her, and then looked away as their owners continued with their meals and conversation. Before leaving her with the restaurant manager, Kai had reminded Emily she must do as she was told – anyone could command her. Emily sensed that Leonora wanted her to be seen before she was sold off. Humiliated beyond all belief Emily had been ordered to clear tables, her body at everyone's disposal.
Men ran their hands over her breasts, teasing at her nipples with desultory interest. One ran a tentative finger over her quim, sniffing it afterwards. Those who didn't touch stared and examined with their eyes; their gaze was almost more invasive than the fingers and lips. Emily bit her lip as she imagined the open curiosity and desire she had seen on the faces of the guests.
In the far corner of the dining room a tall distinguished looking man and his woman had been sitting at a secluded table. The man had beckoned her over and made her turn slowly for his appraisal. He turned to his companion, who Emily suspected was another of Leonora's girls, as if to seek her approval. The girl had said nothing but slid her perfectly tailored white dress up over her waist to reveal her nakedness beneath. Her sex was fringed by a careful clipped triangle of dark hair. Emily remained unmoving. The man stared at her and lifted an eyebrow. "Haven't you been told that you have to do what you're told?" he said coolly.
Emily nodded. The man sighed theatrically. "My friend requires you to service her."
Still Emily didn't move, unsure what was required of her. Behind her the hubbub of the dining room faded away as she had blushed crimson. The girl opened her legs and let her fingers tease at the open flushed lips of her quim. Her scarlet nail polish looked bizarre nestled amongst the soft downy curls.
The man's expression was stony. "On you knees, bitch, and fuck her with your tongue. I want to watch you. Or would you prefer me to report you to the management?"
Emily shivered, unable to believe what she had heard. She could feel her colour intensifying, and with it the white heat of Leonora's whip marks on her back. She dropped slowly to her knees, her heart hammering between her breasts. Slowly, slowly, she crept forward, praying that the woman would close her legs, praying the man would change his mind. She was so close now she could smell the rich aroma of the woman's sex; an oceanic salty perfume and with it mingled – she shuddered as she remembered the smell – with it mingled the white trickling remnants of her lover's semen. She flinched as the man grabbed the back of her head and ground it into the woman's exposed dribbling sex.
Tears of revulsion and humiliation coursed down Emily's cheeks as she tasted the remains of his lovemaking. The woman writhed closer, pressing herself onto Emily's lips, moaning softly as she ground her quim against Emily's mouth.
Emily had licked and tongued and kissed, the woman getting more and more excited with every passing second, lifting herself up, opening herself for Emily's inexpert caresses. Beside her she heard the man's breath quicken as he watched them. Beneath her the woman started to moan frantically and thrash from side to side. At first Emily thought it was a plea for her to stop until she suddenly realised that the woman was having an orgasm.
Her male companion dragged Emily away then, and slipped his straining arcing cock from his trousers. Pulling the woman further off the bench he thrust his cock into her compliant writhing body.
Emily was so stunned that she knelt beside them, staring in astonishment at the sight of his shaft sliding in and out of the woman's slick gaping quim. But it wasn't over – the man grabbed Emily's collar and thrust her face back towards the moist fragrant junction of their two bodies.
The woman's writhing and moaning renewed. Her juices flooded Emily's mouth with an intense rich taste and below that there was the dark threatening contrast of the man's cock, a steam hammer that Emily's tongue lapped and serviced with every heaving thrust.
Suddenly the man shuddered and began to snort, driving deep into the woman in the white dress, pinning Emily between them. His flaccid slick penis was the last thing that passed across Emily's lips as he pulled himself out of his lover.
Sitting back on his heels he pulled Emily to him and kissed her, his tongue searching her mouth for the flavours of their love making. Emily was stunned and horrified. The man got to his feet, adjusted his clothing and waved towards the restaurant manager who had given Emily her tasks in the dining-room.
"Tell Leonora I'll double my bid for this girl," he said, without looking at Emily.
Emily threw herself back onto her bed in her cell, hot tears of shame and fear coursing down her face. She hadn't thought about Peter since the previous night, but now his distinctive features filled her mind. What on earth would he think of the way she had behaved since she arrived at Deuvar?
They had met first the previous summer – just over a year ago – when she'd applied for a job with his import and export firm. He had explained he had several business interests and freelanced for big companies alongside his own commitments. What he really needed some-one competent to run his small office. Even as he'd been interviewing her she had sensed a little crackle of expectation in the air.
She might still be a virgin, but she wasn't completely naive. She'd just finished college, coming out top of her group for reception and secretarial skills and had been a popular girl with several regular dates. It was just that some part of her had refused to go that extra yard; she had maintained her virginity against all the odds. She wanted to give it as a pure white shining gift to a man she loved – and in her mind that man had become Peter Howard.
Crouched on the bed at Deuvar it seemed now as if all that had happened to another person. It certainly didn't feel as if that girl, clutching her diplomas and references, was the same miserable, naked, whipped creature who had lay between the legs of an unknown couple, sucking and lapping at their bodies as they had made love.
She shuddered, trying to recapture the face of Peter Howard. He had invited her out to lunch the first week she had been working for him, after that is was a dinner date, then the theatre. He seemed so confident and at ease wherever he found himself. It had seemed like a fairy tale – some-how unreal. When he had kissed her, hands circling to caress her breasts, she had felt a flurry of excitement and desire like nothing she had ever experienced before. When she told him, after he had invited her to spend the weekend in Paris, that she was a virgin, he had grinned – and embraced her – and taken her to Paris anyway.
He had proposed to her on a little boat as they explored the Seine by moonlight. She had been astounded and touched when he suggested they buy her parent's a house as an investment. As the months had passed the fairy tale had continued and with it her sense of unreality.
Even when the police had come to tell her he had been killed in the plane crash, somehow it had been in keeping with the rest of their relationship. It was as if they had something magical and impossible -