Charles Richards - A Kingdom Of Love

"How is she?"

"What the hell do you mean how is she? The little bitch just got Mae killed and Andy destroyed. How is she, you ask. Well, I wish she were dead!"

"No, dear, you misunderstand me. What I mean is what state is her mind in? What ever she feels shows all over her face. She is such a simple child, really."

Myrna glanced at Joan for the first time during the conversation and after a moment said, "She looks like either a zombie or a maniac-I'm not sure which. But in any event, the main thing in her face is sex.

"Is Eric with her?"

"Who's Eric?" Myrna asked, her exasperation starting to churn within her again.

"Eric is Joan's king snake. He acts like a sedative sometimes on the girl. He soothes her if you understand and, of course, you must."

Myrna chuckled slowly in response. "Will other animals besides the snake do?" Myrna felt an idea taking shape in her head.

"Well, Prince for one; and from the letters I've received from her I'm sure that pony of yours is another. But I thought you understood about Joan from the first. She is not to be held responsible for her desires where animals are concerned. She is a free agent."

"I understand. It's nearly impossible to act against, however. How do you ever manage?" Myrna asked trying to remember what they were talking about and suddenly very aware that the subject was just across the room. Joan stared up at her with the glazed expression of a dumb beast and for a moment Myrna was disgusted.

"I have no wish to subject the girl, or anyone else for that matter, Myrna. You should know that. You trained me," Amanda said quietly.

"When are you coming?" Myrna changed the subject curtly.

"Tomorrow morning first thing."

"What do you suggest I do with Joan in the meantime?" Myrna asked rather sarcastically.

"Why not entertain her with the pony, dear?" Amanda suggested glibly.

Myrna had the feeling that she had already thought of that, but since it was a rather good idea she said nothing. Yet, there was something else bothering her. What was it? Ah, yes. Somehow Joan had known it was Amanda calling.

"Amanda. Joan answered the phone with your name. How did she know it was you?"

Amanda chuckled. "Yes, I know. It was probably a hunch on her part, but I do have a habit of interrupting Joan with phone calls at inopportune moments. That was what she replied 'yes' to: I asked her if she was making love with someone and she said, yes, she was."

"I see," answered Myrna even though she did not really follow the entire trend of behavior between the strange girl and her own twin sister. "Well, I'd better go."

Joan was restless. She prowled between Myrna's legs like a pussycat and licked the woman's creamy snatch while she was talking.

"See you tomorrow," said Amanda.

"All right. Goodbye," returned Myrna hurriedly replacing the phone on its hook.

"Jesus, girl! Nothing turns you off, does it?" Myrna exclaimed.

"No." Joan's voice came silkily from below and she nuzzled her nose for Myrna's clit.

Myrna was incredibly disturbed. It was as if she wanted to be eaten softly by the kittenish tongue of the girl, but at the same time she wanted desperately to punish her. And it was evidence she could not do it with sex. The dilemma was ponderable but not while Joan licked between her legs. All right. The girl wanted submission. There was no better time to begin than right now.

"Stop that," Myrna ordered and Joan obeyed with a woeful moan.

"Put some clothes on. I want you in the ring with Clyde. And you are going to perform!"

"As you wish." Joan nodded her compliance and thought of what Amanda would look like saying the same words: As you wish.

Myrna saw the resemblance to her sister pass across Joan's face as the tone of the girl's voice took on a mimicking sound.

"Think you know all the tricks, don't you, chickadee?" Myrna taunted Joan sarcastically.

"Not necessarily," Joan said in a placid manner. "I haven't got any pants to wear."

"Here." Myrna took a silver-studded, goatskin wrap-around skirt out of her closet. "Put this on and hurry it up."

Joan took the leather garment and slipped it on. The feel of leather on her bare skin made her squirm the wet lips of her pussy together, and she became anxious to know where they were going.

"What are you planning?" Joan inquired. She knew she was taking more liberty than her role as slave allowed.

But Myrna surprised her. She did not give the conventional response and shut her up but instead answered her honestly. "I don't know."

"Well, aren't you going to get dressed as well?" Joan asked innocently.

"Apparently I've forgotten myself," Myrna answered bemused and took a light weight raincoat from the closet. "Get your top and let's go." She slipped the raincoat on and crossed to the door.

"Don't you want your whip, Myrna?" Joan taunted as she shrugged on her calfskin shirt.

"Bring it if you wish," Myrna snapped and swung the trailer door outwards, motioning Joan to go before her.

The summer night air was warm and beneath the leather outfit Joan's body began to sweat. She was hot everywhere.

The tight collar still was hard to breath against, so her nose flared with every long breath. Her scalp tingled with perspiration from the blood gorged in her head. The control she exerted on herself to remain submissive to Myrna took a visible effort. All in all, everything the girl's mind dealt with contributed to heat and the accentuation of her drive toward sex. The sweat poured into every crack of her tawny body and made the leather slick. Her face was red.

Myrna on the other hand was cool beneath the light raincoat and the warm air was like a caress against her naked skin. Her large breasts pressed her nipples taut against the fabric and jiggled with each step.

The breeze kissed its way down along her marble thighs and blew lightly among the lush ebony curls between her sculptured loins.

Myrna was contemplative as they walked. What Joan had must somehow communicate itself to animals. Because, wasn't Andy eating her when Myrna had arrived at the tragic scene? Myrna knew there was no way of explaining something like that to anyone who had not seen it. And even then, unless one knew of Joan's nature before, the sight would most likely be taken for a freak event.

The pensive Myrna had dropped behind the girl, and she saw Joan pause and stand still near Clyde's stall, waiting for Myrna.

Good, thought Myrna: She is maintaining her self-control even though she knows I cannot master her. Amazingly, Myrna realized she was somehow not disturbed when the thought struck. It was as if she, too, agreed with Amanda that Joan was a free agent and, as such unmasterable. There's something amusing about that, Myrna continued the conversation with herself, but for the life of me I don't know what it is.

"Lead the pony out to the training ring," she said coming up next to Joan. "I want this to be private. All right, move."

Joan obeyed without so much as a glance at Myrna. Eagerly she opened the stall door and led the pony into the aisle.

"I'll close it," Myrna said as Joan stopped to close the door behind the pony's exit. "Go on ahead."

Joan had calmed herself somewhat but her body still felt on fire with excitement. The seams of her leather garments had begun to chafe beneath her arms. Across her sweaty shoulders and down between her breasts, the leather chafed and sweat trickled down the valley to her belly, collecting in the forest of her snatch.

She could smell the strong scent of the tiny horse and her nose took in huge draughts of the strong dank odor. The thought of his pole-like cock sent electric messages to every part of her body and she squirmed with anticipation and desire.

As the pony fell into step slightly to Joan's rear he nuzzled under the hem of her skirt and found his way to nose between the firm buns of her twitchy ass. His warm soft muzzle nearly made Joan melt to the floor.