Part 12 (2/2)
”Oh my G.o.d,” she murmured to Kor. ”Did he just...”
”Kiss her panties? Yes and I'm going to kiss yours too.” He sounded so matter-of-fact about it that Maggie was a little shocked. Then she remembered his warning that they might have to do things she wasn't comfortable with in order to make it through the night. Clearly he'd known this was coming.
Before she could protest, they were standing in the archway formed by the huge double doors. The banqueting hall spread before them was filled with rich amber light and hung with rose and gold curtains but Maggie barely noticed any of it because Kor was currently on his knees before her.
”The Lady Nola Pope'nose of Opulex, Yonnie Six,” the Sensorian attendant proclaimed. He (or she, Maggie couldn't tell) was a pale whitish-pink color which made her think he hadn't been getting much emotional nourishment so far tonight.
Well, if they can feed off embarra.s.sment too, he'll get full from a few seconds standing by me, she thought numbly as Kor looked up at her.
”My lady,” he murmured, his large, warm hands caressing her inner thighs. ”Open for me-let me honor you.”
Maggie felt like her legs were glued together at first. But at his urging, she was slowly able to part them, just a little.
”Good,” Kor growled softly. Leaning forward, he pressed a soft, hot, gentle kiss over the tiny white patch of see-through lace that barely covered her p.u.s.s.y.
Maggie bit back a moan when she felt the heat of his breath against such a sensitive area. G.o.d, wasn't he done already? But Kor appeared to want to take his time. He nuzzled her inner thigh, his rough cheek scratching her tender flesh and making her jump.
”Kor...” she whispered. Her heart was beating so hard it seemed to shake her entire body. Would this ever be over?
”So sweet...” Kor murmured. He kissed her again, this time pressing a little deeper, kissing between her legs as though he wanted to kiss the panties right off her.
”Kor,” Maggie half moaned. One hand crept down to slide into his thick, black hair, almost as if she wanted more. G.o.d, his breath was so warm against her flesh and his hands felt so good stroking her thighs... then she happened to look to the side.
The Sensorian attendant was watching them, his strange pink and blue Easter egg eyes half-lidded with pleasure. To Maggie's shame, his skin had turned a deep pink. Was he feeding off her embarra.s.sment-or the forbidden heat that was suddenly sweeping through her?
Another question occurred to her. Was Kor feeling the heat too, or was he just playing his part and faking it? He certainly didn't seem to be faking-not the way he was pressing his mouth between her legs. But then, he was used to being a slave and servicing rich mistresses. So maybe he didn't feel a thing. Maybe he was just trying to put on a convincing show.
”That...I think that's enough,” she whispered, tugging at him, trying to drag him to his feet.
But he wasn't so easily dragged. Looking up, he pinned her with his eyes. The heat in their pale blue depths matched what she was feeling. Was this real to him too? Did he really enjoy it? Before Maggie could begin to answer the question, he gave her one last, deliberate kiss right in the center of her p.u.s.s.y.
”Mistress,” he murmured in a low, rough voice. ”It is a pleasure to honor you.”
Maggie bit her lip...if the panties hadn't been in the way...
But they are in the way, she told herself sternly as Kor finally rose and they continued their forward progress. And as long as they are, it isn't really like I'm cheating on Donald. I mean, we have to do this or we'll be found out. And I've still got clothes on so- Her hasty internal justification was cut short when Kor murmured something in her ear.
”What?” Maggie whispered back.
”I said I believe we are in this rondula, my lady,” he murmured.
Maggie wanted to ask what a rondula was but she didn't want to appear conspicuous. Instead, she looked where he was pointing and saw a cl.u.s.ter of about eight chaise lounges, all padded in rich, b.u.t.tery leather and grouped in a circle. The plush lounges appeared to come in four different tones-gold, rose pink, black or white.
Looking around, Maggie could see that the entire huge room was divided up into such small, circular groups-apparently this was what Kor had meant by 'rondula.' She'd been on a cruise once, a short three day one which had been hard to enjoy as Donald had complained bitterly about missing work the entire time. Dinner on the cruise s.h.i.+p had been arranged in somewhat the same way. You ate a table with a few other guests you didn't know every evening, supposedly to make the atmosphere more homey and less impersonal.
Am I supposed to make friends with these women? Maggie eyed the other mistresses doubtfully. She'd never been great at just jumping right into conversation. She always seemed to say the wrong thing or spill something on someone somehow. Or pull the wig off their head leaving them completely bald-oh, no!
Because the mistress sitting in the lounge beside the one Kor was pointing to just happened to be the same woman whose wig Maggie had inadvertently s.n.a.t.c.hed.
Why? she thought. Why couldn't I have been sitting by someone else-anyone else but her? She wasn't sure if she ought to apologize again or not. However, the wig woman-as Maggie was beginning to think of her-simply gave Maggie a haughty look and turned to speak to someone else. Well, maybe she would be content if they just ignored each other. It would be a little awkward but Maggie was used to social awkwardness-it was practically her middle name.
”My lady,” Kor murmured again and she realized he was waiting for her to sit down. The chaise he was standing by was pure white and had a stiff little place card with the words, Lady Pope'nose in flowing script sitting on it.
”Thank you, Kor,” she murmured and allowed him to help her onto the chaise. Around her, most of the other lounges were occupied by other mistresses. In the center of the grouping sat a round table filled with all kinds of fruits and finger foods as well as goblets filled with pale pink liquid and little golden plates. Some of the other slaves were already feeding their mistresses and as soon as Kor got her situated, he proceeded to fill a little plate for her as well.
”Got you mostly fruit,” he murmured as he knelt beside her lounge. ”Hope that's okay.”
”Fine,” she whispered. ”But what about you?”
”Slaves eat later. Open up.” He popped a square red fruit a little bigger than a grape into her mouth.
Maggie's teeth barely touched it before the thin skin gave with a gush of sweet juice that filled her mouth.
”Mmmph!” she exclaimed in surprise. The flavor was surprisingly complex, reminding her of pa.s.sion fruit, watermelon and strangely, b.u.t.tered popcorn.
”Oops, here my lady-you're dripping.” Kor pressed a white linen napkin to the side of her mouth.
”Thank you,” Maggie whispered. ”I didn't expect it to be so juicy.”
”Neither did I but juicy is good. Very good.” His half-lidded gaze as he spoke made her cheeks get hot but Maggie was determined not to let him tease her.
”I'd like another, please,” she said, lifting her chin.
”You say please and thank you to your slaves?” The strident voice appeared to belong to the wig woman, who was sitting on Maggie's right. Apparently she had decided to talk after all. Her wig was still askew and the gown she was wearing was a vivid purple with a deep v-neck that looked like it might fall off and leave her half naked at any time. Her slave was a good fifteen years younger than her and he stood by her with his eyes down, waiting to feed her another morsel from the plate he held.
”Well, I mean...it's just good manners,” Maggie said, uncertain of what else to say. ”Saying please and thank you and...and I'm sorry,” she added meaningfully. ”I mean realy sorry.”
Wig woman sniffed. ”I suppose but I've always felt it gives slaves an inflated sense of importance if you treat them like actual people.” She frowned at Maggie. ”I'm Yoli Ponce'beast by the way. I don't believe we were formally introduced before.”
”No. No, we weren't.” Maggie cleared her throat. ”I'm, uh...Pope'nose. Nola Pope'nose. Pleased to meet you.” She didn't know if she was supposed to offer to shake hands or not but as Lady Ponce'beast, aka wig woman, simply lay there on her chaise not moving, she decided not to try.
”I believe we have a friend in common,” Lady Ponce'beast announced. ”Manda Sha'rak? Don't the two of you head of the Opulex Social Standing committee?”
”Oh, we...” Maggie cleared her throat. ”Yes. Yes, I guess we do.”
”Dear Manda.” Lady Ponce'beast sighed and ran one hand over her crooked wig. ”We went to Cheslton together as girls. I was hoping to see her here but her plans changed at the last minute.”
Maggie swallowed hard-apparently they'd had a narrow escape! Thank goodness this Lady Sha'rak person who actually knew Lady Pope'nose wasn't here! ”Oh, what a shame,” she managed to say.
”Yes, she's the sweetest thing,” ”Lady Ponce'beast went on. ”Even if she is a bit too lenient on her slaves. A trait I didn't think you would share with her-your reputation as a strict disciplinarian precedes you, you know, Lady Pope'nose.”
”It does?” Maggie asked weakly. ”I mean, yes-of course it does.”
Lady Ponce'beast frowned. ”Then why is your slave not even wearing a pain collar?”
”He does have one, back at the room,” Maggie improvised quickly. ”I, uh, left it off him tonight because it's, uh...it's charging.”
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