Part 21 (2/2)
As if her outfit-or lack thereof-wasn't bad enough, she was also positioned for display. Her arms were stretched above her head, chained in place to keep her exposed and her thighs were spread wide, allowing anyone who wanted to come by and flip up her skirt to ”check out the wares.”
The pedestal she'd been forced to kneel on was white stone with a thin red pad that barely cus.h.i.+oned her bare knees. Maggie s.h.i.+fted restlessly, trying to ease the pressure but if she moved too much or failed to keep her legs open, Zamir shocked her with the little wand he'd used to activate her ”s.l.u.t b.u.t.ton.”
The wand seemed to act as a kind of taser. It made her gasp with pain but the pain was an almost welcome relief from the unquenchable desire throbbing between her legs.
The s.e.xual need had begun when she woke up from a broken sleep that morning and had been slowly growing throughout the day. It seemed to have a correlation with the ruby implant, which was blinking faster and faster. And with each blink came a pulse of pleasure, buzzing through her c.l.i.t, making her helplessly hot and wet.
Maggie never would have believed that too much pleasure could be a bad thing but she was rapidly finding out that having constant stimulation without gratification was the worst kind of torture. With each little jolt, her nipples got harder and her p.u.s.s.y got wetter but no matter how hot she got, she wasn't able to reach any kind of o.r.g.a.s.m. It was torture.
Not that she wanted to o.r.g.a.s.m in a room full of strangers, Maggie told herself. Not at first, anyway. But after a couple of hours of the s.l.u.t b.u.t.ton working on her, she thought she would have done anything for some relief. If her hands hadn't been chained above her head, she would have been groping between her thighs, just like the woman Sura had described. It wouldn't have done her any good though-no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't feel her own touch from her lower pelvis to her upper thighs.
The jewel in her belly b.u.t.ton blinked again and another jolt of pleasure raced through her quivering p.u.s.s.y. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut and held back a whimper of pure distress. G.o.d, would this ever end? Or would she be doomed to live the rest of her life in unfulfilled desire so intense it made her ache inside and out?
”Now here's a nice specimen,” Zamir's voice said to her right. ”Very fresh-just plucked this little flower on Yonnie Six, though I understand that's not her planet of origin.”
Maggie set her jaw and got ready to endure the coming inspection. After being here for several hours, she already knew the drill. The customer would want to examine her-her teeth, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s-and probably flip up her skirt to see her crotch as well. Luckily for her, Zamir usually kept the contact to a minimum-he said he was trying to keep his merchandize ”fresh”-but it was still humiliating to be looked over like a prize pony someone was looking to buy.
”Interesting.” The prospective buyer was huge but that was about all Maggie could tell about him. He seemed to be draped all in black including his face-was he wearing a mask? It seemed that he must be because his deep voice was oddly distorted. ”Where does she come from?” he asked.
Zamir shrugged. ”A small blue and green planet on the far arm of a nearby spiral galaxy. I think her people call it 'Earth.'”
A large hand encased in a black leather glove lifted Maggie's chin.
”And is she eager to please? I won't have a frigid bed slave.”
”More than eager, good sir! May I draw your attention to her midsection-observe the implant you can see there.”
”Implant? What the h.e.l.l is that?” the man demanded.
”It's a Denari Eroticus-top of the line, I a.s.sure you. This one was grown with great care for six solar months until it was ripe enough to be activated. The activation occurred only last week and the subject has been in stasis again until last night. So you'd be the first male to have the full benefit of its...ah influence.”
”What the h.e.l.l?” the man muttered. ”Does it come out?”
”Never,” Zamir a.s.sured him. ”This species is bred and engineered on the Dragon's Mouth in the Maw Cl.u.s.ter and it's quite permanent-it will live as long as its host unless removed by its maker.”
”d.a.m.n,” the man muttered. ”Of all the f.u.c.king-”
”Excuse me? Is there a problem?” Zamir sounded offended. ”Most of my customers like the idea of an implant. It makes a slave so much more eager to please.”
”I'm sure it f.u.c.king does,” the man said harshly. But though his voice was rough, his hand was gentle. The black leather glove slid around to cup Maggie's cheek and then moved lower, tracing the curve of her neck and her collar bone.
Maggie s.h.i.+vered as the large gloved hand moved even lower, cupping the curve of her right breast and thumbing the nipple lightly through the thin scarlet ribbon she wore.
”My apologies, good sir,” Zamir said smoothly. ”But I must ask you not to over handle the merchandise. She must be kept fresh if she's to be sold.”
”You don't need to worry about that-I'll buy her,” the man said. ”I just want to know how responsive she is...how this d.a.m.n implant thing you've got in her is affecting her.”
He stroked her nipple again and then pinched it lightly, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through her over-stimulated system. Maggie bit her lip, trying desperately to stifle a cry. G.o.d, it was humiliating that a total stranger could get this response from her so easily. She was sure it was because of the s.l.u.t b.u.t.ton implant-it seemed to blink even faster when the man touched her, making her completely unable to help her reaction to him.
And yet, though she hated her response to him, the way he was touching her seemed to help. It fed the cravings that had been steadily growing inside her all morning, since she'd woken up with the ruby implant blinking steadily. Maggie bit her lip and pressed her breast against his hand, mutely begging for more.
”Poor little female,” the man growled softly. ”Is it hurting you, this d.a.m.n thing they put in you? Is it giving you needs too great to bear?”
”That is the idea of the implant, sir,” Zamir cut in. ”It stimulates the subject until her need is so great she feels actual physical pain. She will do anything to slake the l.u.s.t and every touch you give her eases the burden just a little. Her l.u.s.t also eases every time you allow her to touch you so if you're a male who enjoys frequent oral stimulation...”
”I wasn't talking to you,” the man snapped at Zamir. ”And any male who puts a f.u.c.king implant in his woman to make her give him G.o.ddess d.a.m.ned b.l.o.w. .j.o.bs all day long-”
He didn't finish because Maggie couldn't help moaning again. The feel of his big, gloved hand against her breast was good but the need was still burning inside her. The ruby was still pulsing, sending waves of desire to her p.u.s.s.y which was swollen and hot between her thighs.
”Poor little female,” the man growled again. His large, gloved hand traveled lower and Maggie felt a mixture of shame and l.u.s.t as he flipped up her skirt. ”So d.a.m.n wet,” she heard him mutter.
She wanted to cry with embarra.s.sment but she somehow managed to keep her mouth shut and her chin high. It's not my fault, she told herself. It's this d.a.m.n implant. I would never be in this...this state otherwise.
But it was hard not to feel ashamed at the wash of pleasure she felt when the man cupped her p.u.s.s.y. Maggie could feel the heat of his palm, even through the black leather glove. She tried her best not to react but she couldn't help it-she could feel his hand! After not feeling her own fingers when she had tried to touch herself, it seemed like magic. Her body was crying out that this was exactly what she needed.
With a low moan, she thrust against his hand, rubbing hard against his palm, seeking some relief from the constant cycle of unrelenting desire and unfulfilled pleasure.
The man in black uttered a hoa.r.s.e curse as she rubbed against him but he didn't pull away. Instead he stepped closer, until the black cloak he wore s.h.i.+elded her from view, enclosing them both in a small, private s.p.a.ce that seemed to shut out the rest of the busy marketplace.
”It's all right, sweetheart,” he murmured in a low voice for Maggie's ears alone. ”Don't be ashamed-take what you need.”
He slipped two fingers between her p.u.s.s.y lips and bracketed her swollen c.l.i.t. Then he simply cupped her firmly and held still, letting Maggie rub against his hand, giving her the stimulation she so desperately needed.
Maggie closed her eyes as she worked her hips, finding a rhythm that would finally bring her to completion. She was filled with shame and yet unable to help her response. It occurred to her, dimly, that the man was helping her-that he was giving her a way to reach a climax with as much privacy as was possible in this noisy, crowded place. But she was too filled with shame and desire to have much room left over for grat.i.tude.
At last, Maggie felt herself tipping over the edge. The man stood there, his hand between her legs, watching silently as her o.r.g.a.s.m whipped through her. It was a sudden, violent event that nearly made her scream with its intensity. Maggie bit her lip but she couldn't hold back a cry of unwilling pleasure-it was too much to keep inside. Too much to bear without making a sound.
But though the o.r.g.a.s.m was good, it wasn't enough. Maggie moaned in frustration as the implant pulsed inside her, demanding something more...something deeper.
The man seemed to understand how she was feeling.
”Not enough, is it?” he murmured, looking down at her. ”What more do you need?”
Maggie couldn't answer-her shame was too deep. But she could hear Zamir talking from behind the man's broad back.
”The longer the subject is left without relief, the greater the effort required to slake her need. I've had her chained here for hours, letting the implant build its cycle. Stimulation without penetration will only prolong her suffering.”
”Get back,” the man snarled at him. ”You'll get your credit in a minute but leave me in peace for now.”
”My apologies, sir.” Zamir's voice became fainter and Maggie sensed they were alone again.
”It's all right,” the man told her. ”He's gone. It's just us. What do you need, sweetheart? Need me to go deeper?” Two long leather clad fingers slid to the entrance of her p.u.s.s.y and pressed gently upward to convey his meaning.
Maggie wished with all hear heart she could say no, that she could refuse what he was offering her. But she couldn't-her body wouldn't let her. She needed to be filled, even if it was only by his fingers.
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