F Campbell - Margo

With the stage thus set, Margo wheeled in the tea tray from where Chloe had delivered it outside the door.

"You're an absolute jewel, Marcia. Nothing but the best." The admiration was genuine in the male voice as he viewed Margo's blushing nakedness. "Damn, if the girl isn't a beauty!"

"Of, couse. Would I buy less? She cost me a pretty penny too."

Marcia laughed slyly. "I'm sure you'd like to take it out of her hide."

Margo sense their raillery. They would wish to keep her frightened and alert. She was, in fact, a plaything for their afternoon. She poured the tea as daintly as shackled hands allowed and served it on her knees. Denby applauded.

"Damn fine show! I should have gone to that auction and outbid you Marcia. I wouldn't mind having those breast and that twinkling little cunt on a chain."

"You don't have enough money, Denby. You know that."

"Well, I've got enough to have given you a run for your money. But I didn't see any sense in bidding her up. You'll share her with me, won't you?"

The mistress of Tremont laughed her silvery laugh. "I shouldn't, but I probably will. But don't get the idea you'll be fucking the little darling every other day – certainly not twice a day – the way you're thinking right now. I can read it in you eyes, Denby."

"I could never desert you!" Denby proclaimed dramatically. "I would never demean you by going from your slave to your sheath." Denby smiled benignly at both females and added amiably. "At least not for a couple of hours."

"You're outrageous. You shouldn't be allowed. You'll be giving Margo ideas." The mistress turned to her naked, blushing slave who was now coyly kneeling with her knees far apart in the prescribed pose.

"Don't listen to him, girl. This man is a positive menace. No girl is safe with him."

"Thank you, thank you." Denby was quite obviously flattered, and no doubt this was part of her little ritual, like love's postering between birds. "I sure you've tried her out for nibbling. Is she any good?"

"She's a darling! I climaxed her three times her first try."

Margo was appalled. She had not came from a bohemian circle or from those monied classes who in their private lives were totally without inhibition. She could scarcely believe the frank discussion of which she was not a part. Obviously, this man and this girl enjoyed it. She bowed her head, but whether it was in shame for them or for herself, she would not tell.

"Your little darling's blushing," Denby observed enjoyably. "She's beautifully responsive. I like that. Look, sweetheart, if she's so damn good at nibbling you, how about me?"

"Denby, don't be disgusting!" Marcia wrinkled her nose in an affection of disapproval. "Really, you are a bit much. I be the poor girl's never done such a thing in her life."

"Well, ask her. We've got lots of time."

"I have never done it," Margo interjected with decision. "Please, Marcia, don't make me."

"Another country heard from!" proclaimed Denby, again the same muck dramatics. "There's more to your blushing little maiden than you supposed, sweetheart. She's probably sucked more cocks than you have."

Margo's blush was without bounds. It had been said right out loud in just that many words! She would not have believed it possible, and the act described was noting more than a wicked whisper behind closed doors, with giggling colleagues at school and after church. She had been cruelly flogged for an offense far less the Denby spoke of now, casually, as though he were asking for another cup of tea.

"Give the man more tea, Margo. See if you can't shut him up. Really, Denby, these extravagances of yours are damned embarrassing. You're not safe in public. You come out with the most outrageous things. If you think you're going to have this girl do what you've suggested, you might as well pack up and go home right now."

"I might settle for you, dear heart." There was the faintest hint of malice in the suggestion. "You're really damn good at it, you know."

"You're disgusting. Fancy talking like this in front of the slave girl! A new one at that! Denby, please…"

"Seems to me your little slave girl is going to pick up a trace of good old Shakespeare. You know the quote: 'me thinks the lady doth protest too much'. You seem to be forgetting, sweetheart. My original suggestion was not for your favor, but for her mouth. How about it?"

Margo hurriedly served the second round of tea. Keeping herself busy with cups and plates because she dreaded reverting to the humble posture wherein she displayed everything she had. But she could not stand dithering so once again she submissively knelt.

"You see, like I told you, the girl's a treasure. Look at her now. She's a natural. She'd suck my cock and enjoy every inch." Denby chuckled. "In fact, dear girl, I've decided that's exactly what she's going to do."

Margo watched Denby drain his cup with leisurely enjoyment, then commence to remove is clothes. In this quiet drawing room, it seemed an impossible act. She looked imploringly at her mistress, but found there on the lovely features only some of her own perturbation. Marcia Tremont's breast were rising and falling to denote turmoil within.

When the male was totally without clothes, Marcia rose like a startled animal and became blushing vehement.

"Denby, behave yourself. Stay away from me. I absolutely refuse one of those absurd tussles you enjoy so much."

"Very well then, the answer is simples, isn't it love? Take off your clothes."

Instead of the heated denial or dismissal Margo expected, she became a witness to the unbelievable.

The mistress of Tremont stood breathing heavily and glaring anxiously at the rampant male. Then, without another word, she began throwing her clothes petulantly at the couch.

"I'll never forgive you for this, Denby." The young voice was uncertain, tremulous. But the lovely breast, when they came into view, were heaving rapidly in an excitation, probably for removed from fear.

The watching maiden, kneeling in submissive pose on the floor, began to suspect to Marcia was capable of playing many roles. She appeared to be the perfect foil for Denby's masculinity. When her quite remarkable loveliness was fully revealed, she hid none of it, but stood poised for either flight or fight, according to a decision she had not made.

"You're beautiful," Denby assured her in a hushed tone. He was drinking in every aspect of Marcia's beauty. He seemed a trifle awed by such a feminine display, but quietly, he said, "Darling, you know what to do. I don't have to tell you."

"Not before this girl, Denby, I implore you. I've only just purchased her."

"You know what to do, Marcia. Don't let's quibble."

He repeated his instructions in a quiet, assured way that appeared to stroke the unclad mistress like a blow. Margo could swear she saw her wince. But Marcia's voice held a sob as she venomously retorted, "Very well, Denby, but I think you're a beastly man, and I hate you."

Once more, the kneeling slave was treated to a spectacle beyond belief. After this, she could believe anything. Backing away as from a slowly pursuing monster, Marcia Tremont got halfway to the far wall, then turned, and with determined steps, went to where there was a bare panel, devoid of ornamentation. She thrust her breast hard against it and raised her arms. It was only then that Margo saw the straps. Denby circled each slender wrists with the waiting leather and buckled each of them tight and firm. The mistress of Tremont stood nakedly helpless.

"Ah, that's better!" He stepped back to survey his handiwork. A naked back and round, tight bottom glared back at him without sound. "That's the way to have a girl. If every female was trussed up like that everyday, the world would be a better place. You're uncommonly beautiful today, Marcia."