“I can’t believe she’s going through with this,” said Hana Kim to her friends Steffi and Emmy. They lounged on a nest of black leather sofas at Monique Morgaine’s mansion, known as the Eyrie. She swept her waist-length ebony hair forward over one shoulder to avoid trapping it beneath her as she leaned back on the couch, curling her legs up.
They were in the basement rec room where the Pain Cult’s slaves and acolytes tended to gather when they weren’t otherwise occupied. It was mid-evening and the room was deserted except for the three of them. The room was in semi-darkness, lit only by the spotlights that illuminated the framed photographs at the far end and by the glass wall near them, which looked out below the surface of the mansion’s enormous swimming pool and carried a shimmering bluish glow from the underwater lights.
It was a ‘rec’ room in several senses, since not only were there chairs and couches for conversation, but also a number of devices and restraints where the cult’s members could indulge in their own unique forms of recreation, displaying and publicly tormenting the prizes they had claimed. These prizes, often women but sometimes men too, were typically taken by rite of combat, though there were those who relished such treatment and surrendered willingly. For those who wished to enjoy their trophies more privately, there were other rooms, each with their own diversions, down the corridors that led off from either side of the rec room.
All three young women were sworn slaves of the Pain Cult and of its leader Monique. Each of them wore a black patent leather collar that marked her station. Each was dressed in black, which was almost a uniform among the Pain Seekers, at least here at the Eyrie. Hana herself wore hip-hugging yoga pants and a cropped tee that exposed her hard, flat belly. A gold ring gleamed in her navel. She had kicked off her four-inch stilettos, which lay on the blood red carpet in front of the sofa. Steffi was dressed almost identically though she was in flat shoes – she was almost as tall as Mistress Monique. Emmy, shorter than Hana, wore black leggings, a tank top that clung revealingly to her modest bust, and four-inch wedge heels. A gold stud in her left nostril glinted in the light.
“I hope she knows what she’s getting into,” added Steffi, sitting in the arm chair opposite Hana. The svelte blonde had her feet drawn up and her arms wrapped around her knees. There was no mistaking the defensiveness in her body language. “If not, we’re all fucked.”
They were discussing their friend – Steffi’s friend mostly – Charlotte, known to everyone as Charlie. Earlier that night, she had surprised everyone except the three of them by publicly calling out Ms Angelina, Mistress Monique’s girlfriend – some even said wife though neither wore a ring – and challenging her for her position within the cult. Ms Angelina was known – and feared – as the most sadistic of all the Pain Seekers, more so even than Mistress Monique herself. Mistress could be relied upon to be fair to her followers. Ms Angelina could be counted on only to be cruel.
Pure viciousness had not always won out however. Several weeks ago, Angelina had picked a fight with a woman named Lorena Benedetti, a recent arrival in Blue Water, at the Crypt night club in San Vicente. Lorena was Angelina’s favorite kind of victim – petite but buxom – but in a savage fight she had proved to be more than a match for the skinny Domme. Lorena not only won the fight but, claiming her right as victor, had handed Angelina over to the entire bar to use – men and women. For the fiercely Sapphic Angelina, that had been a devastating degradation.
Everyone had expected Angelina to immediately wreak her revenge on Lorena. To their surprise however, she had instead gone into seclusion, disappearing completely from sight. Of course, that only fueled the rumors that her humiliation had broken her, and that she was no longer a fit lieutenant for Mistress Monique. Speculation had been rife, and opportunists like Charlie had seen their chance.
It was not until tonight that Angelina had finally reappeared once again among the Pain Cult’s followers at the Eyrie. Charlie hadn’t wasted any time. It had been in the drawing room upstairs, in front of Mistress Monique and a dozen others including Hana, Steffi and Emmy, when the little blonde had marched straight up to Angelina, gotten in her face and declared, “So, finally decided to show your face, huh?” She had sneered. “I see you’ve finally wiped the cum off it.”
Angelina’s face had immediately twisted in anger. “You arrogant cunt! I’ll [i]ruin[/i] you.” She had raised her arm right there and then to slap the blonde.
Charlie hadn’t blinked. Her own arm had whipped up quick as a flash and grabbed Angelina’s wrist. Angelina’s dark eyes had blazed in abject fury. “Bring it, bitch!” Charlie had snarled at her. “You’re finished and everyone knows it. I’m going to prove it, and make you my bitch…bitch!”
Mistress Monique had intervened then. She didn’t raise her voice – she didn’t need to – but her words silenced both of them immediately. “Charlie…are you issuing a formal challenge to Ms Angelina?” Her voice was low and level, with just the barest hint of a French accent. If she was surprised, she gave no sign of it.
Charlie had turned to face her and replied in a far more respectful tone, “Yes, Mistress…I am. She’s not worthy of you.”
“And [i]you[/i] are?”
Again Charlie hadn’t blinked. “More worthy than [i]her[/i], Mistress.” Her voice was heavy with contempt.
Mistress Monique had regarded both Charlie and Angelina for a long time. Finally she sighed. “Very well. You may settle this later tonight, downstairs. Publicly, but not in the common room…in the basement of the north wing.”
That had brought a murmur from those watching. The north wing was where Mistress and Ms Angelina had their private apartment. The basement below was where their personal captives were kept and used. Hana and her friends had never even been in that part of the house. For this fight to be held there was both an honor and an ominous sign. The loser would not fare well.
“Charlie has no idea what she’s getting into,” Hana replied to Steffi now. “Her mouth…and her ambition…are getting way ahead of her brain.”
“You’re just pissed because Charlie kicked your ass and made you the cum bucket for the whole beach,” Emmy interjected cattily.
Hana had to admit that that was true, on both counts. When Charlie had first announced her intention to challenge Angelina, two weeks ago on the beach in Blue Water Village, Hana had tried to dissuade her and, when she had failed to do so, had fought Charlie there on the beach.
She had lost that fight and suffered the humiliating consequences. Not only had she had to eat Charlie out but to serve all the onlookers too. Then Charlie had sent her crawling on her knees the half mile back to the parking lot. Hana had been used hard by many of the beachgoers on the way. Twenty-two times – she had kept count – she had been taken, in every orifice. It had taken her almost two hours to make that journey. Then Charlie and the others had returned to the car, dumped her unceremoniously into the trunk, and brought her here to the Eyrie where they had spent the night enjoying the spoils of Charlie’s victory. It made Hana flush with shame and anger beneath her golden tan, even now.
“Do [i]you[/i] think she’s got a chance against Angelina?” she fired back at Emmy.
The petite brunette did not meet Hana’s gaze. “Maybe,” she said uncertainly.
“We’re all fucked,” repeated Steffi softly.
Hana knew she was probably right. That was why she had fought Charlie over this. If Charlie didn’t win the fight tonight, then Angelina’s wrath – and her vengeance – was unlikely to be confined to Charlie alone. Anyone associated with her – and the whole cult knew that Hana, Steffi and Emmy were part of her coterie – would suffer for Charlie’s effrontery.
“Where did she go, anyway?” she asked.
Steffi shrugged. “Anna Sotheby came and got her while you were in the bathroom. She said she had instructions from Mistress, and Charlie was to follow her.”
Anna Sotheby was an older woman, around forty, blonde-haired, tall – though not as tall as Mistress Monique – and well-built. She had an impressive chest that made her no favorite of Angelina’s, who hated all buxom women with a passion. Anna also loved to be tortured. Mistress used that desire to reward and, sometimes, to discipline her. Punishment for Anna was to be ignored when the whippings were dished out.
“I wonder when Mistress is going to collar Anna,” mused Steffi, perhaps trying to take her mind off the topic of the upcoming fight.
Anna was an acolyte – a follower, but not collared, though she was clearly desperate for that honor. That was why she spent almost all her free time here at the Eyrie, doing chores, running errands and generally doing anything to ingratiate herself to Mistress.
“Mistress will make her prove herself,” replied Emmy. “She did with all of us, remember. She’ll have to claim somebody…somebody tough.”
“Fat chance,” laughed Hana. “She loves losing too much. She’s a total pain slut.”
As if on cue, the door in the wall opposite Hana opened and Anna Sotheby entered the room. She was dressed – if it could be called that – in a black body stocking that covered her from neck to ankles and was sheer enough to show the dark circles of her aureolas. She was maybe five feet seven but her black pumps, with ankle straps, elevated her to almost six feet. Her honey blonde hair, which normally fell to her shoulders, was pulled up in a ponytail behind her head, revealing the five rings that adorned her left ear and the three in her right. Those were the marks of fights she had lost – times she had been claimed by other Pain Seekers.
Hana smiled to herself. She had been responsible for one of those rings. It was common knowledge that Anna wanted, more than anything, to be pierced in her nipples or her labia. For that reason, there was a widespread conspiracy among the Pain Cult to mark her only in her ears or navel. There were forms of pain beyond the physical.
“Ms Monique asked me to come get you three,” Anna announced. “It’s time.” It was strange to hear her use the term ‘Ms’ rather than ‘Mistress’ but since Anna wasn’t collared, ‘Ms’ was the correct term. Mistress wasn’t [i]her[/i] Mistress yet.
As Hana got up from the couch, she noticed that Anna’s face was slightly flushed, her nipples erect and pressing against the flimsy fabric that covered them. Hana wondered if somebody had just used the older blonde. She thought it unlikely. If somebody was going to put Anna in pain, they’d take their time with her and enjoy it. Hana knew that from personal experience. Nevertheless, Anna’s arousal was unmistakable.
On a sudden playful impulse she asked, “Feeling a little turned on by the idea of the fight, Anna?” She approached the older woman who stood at the top of the three steps that led down to the sunken conversation pit where they had been sitting. Up close, Anna was a good three or four inches taller but that didn’t faze Hana. There were times when size didn’t matter and dealing with Anna Sotheby was one of those times.
Anna’s eyes went wide and she held herself rigid as Hana approached, closely trailed by Emmy and Steffi. She flinched but did not draw back when Hana reached out and boldly stroked her left breast, flicking her thumb across the hard nipple.
“Probably wishes it was her fighting, so she could get an ass-whipping…then and later,” mocked Steffi, circling behind the older blonde. She trailed her fingertips over Anna’s hip, around to the small of her back. Anna shivered. “Don’t you Anna?” She suddenly and sharply slapped Anna across the butt. Anna gasped. Her flush darkened to a deep crimson.
“Oh, she does,” smiled Emmy, stepping up beside Hana. She reached out a hand and placed her palm flat against Anna’s firm though slightly rounded belly. Anna whimpered softly at the touch. “What am I going to find when I put my hand between your legs…slut?”
Anna trembled. “Please…” she whispered. “Please…” The fear was evident in her eyes. So was the lust.
Steffi leaned close behind her and laughed in her ear. “Please what? Please whip you?” She pinched Anna’s ass and the blonde jumped with a yelp. “You want that, don’t you?”
Still cupping Anna’s heavy, rounded breast in her hand, Hana took the older woman’s turgid nipple between her finger and thumb and twisted, hard. Anna’s head arched back reflexively. Her chest pushed out toward Hana’s hand. A low moan escaped her lips, just as her legs folded under her and she sank to her knees with the three younger women in a circle surrounding her.
Steffi grasped Anna’s ponytail from behind and pulled her head back sharply. Anna’s emerald green eyes were like saucers as she stared up into Steffi’s face. “We’ll whip you, all right,” promised Steffi. She bent and kissed Anna hard, ravishing the older woman’s mouth with her own. “We’ll give you a heavy whipping,” she went on as she broke the kiss.
Emmy leaned in and kissed Anna too, just as demanding. “Just the way you like,” she added.
When it was Hana’s turn, she pulled Anna toward her by her nipple. Anna moaned. Hana bent forward but instead of kissing the blonde on the lips as her friends had done, she placed her mouth close to Anna’s ear. “Hana tops Anna tonight,” she purred, and nipped Anna’s earlobe lightly with her teeth. Anna moaned more loudly.
“Let’s not get her too worked up,” cautioned Emmy. “We don’t know where to go. She has to lead the way.”
Steffi laughed. “True.” She jerked on Anna’s ponytail. “Up you get, slut, and take us to Mistress.”
Anna rose once more, and Hana smiled again at the older woman’s unsteady gait as she preceded them back toward the door through which she had entered. Steffi followed, then Emmy with Hana bringing up the rear.
The corridor beyond was floored with slate like the common room and the walls were of grey stone. It appeared identical to the passageway beneath the south wing of the mansion, which they normally used to reach the rec room. Like that corridor, there were heavy wooden doors, all closed. Like that corridor, the walls between the doors were hung with framed photographs of those who had suffered the cruel whims of the Pain Cult.
Hana felt a tingling in the back of her neck at the knowledge that though it appeared identical, this was not the other corridor. The doors they passed led to Mistress Monique’s private play rooms. She and her friends were entering – for the first time – the inner sanctum. That thought both thrilled and frightened her.
They turned left and, a short distance later, made a right into a side corridor. The walls of this passageway were blank stone, devoid of doors or pictures. They descended a flight of stone steps before Anna opened a door at the far end. Beyond was a tiny room, no more than a juncture of several passages. Doors led off the left and right. Anna pushed open the one to the right, and they continued. Hana was glad of the older woman’s guidance. Without it, she and her friends would be lost by now.
They found themselves in another corridor, similar to those they had already passed through. The one was shorter however. Doors stood in the wall to the right. At the far end was an archway rather than a door and beyond it, Hana caught a shimmer of light. Water?
She had no chance to investigate however. Another door was set in the left-hand wall, half way down the corridor. It was this door to which Anna led them. She pushed it open and then stood aside to let the other three precede her. Hana noticed Steffi deliberately pass close enough that her arm brushed Anna’s breast, and she also noticed Anna’s shiver at the contact. Hana herself let her fingers dance across the older woman’s abdomen as she followed her friends through the doorway. She did not bother to look at Anna but heard the woman’s faint gasp, and smiled.
As she entered the room beyond the door however, the gravity of what was about to happen pushed everything else out of her mind. She forgot about teasing Anna and the pleasant prospect of torturing the older woman later that night. If things went awry right now, her chances of being free to enjoy Anna were slim to none. She felt goosebumps break out on her arms.
The room was large, though not as big as the rec room, and elongated. The door through which they had entered was the only way in or out, and was in the middle of one of the longer walls. The ends of those walls curved around to meet one another so that there were no corners. Each end of the room was a perfect semicircle.
At the end to Hana’s right was a curved couch, black leather like those in the rec room, that hugged the wall. Monique Morgaine sat in the center of the couch, legs crossed at the ankle, her shoulders nestled against the high leather cushions. She was dressed, as usual, all in black, from her stiletto heeled pumps to the black leggings that hugged her shapely legs, to her black tank top that clung to her slender but curvaceous figure. The top bared her powerful yet feminine arms and was cut low at the front to show off her generous cleavage. Hana found herself licking her lips as she looked at her Mistress. She wanted to kneel before her Mistress and kiss those breasts. She had not done so since the night that Monique had collared her. She hadn’t proved herself worthy yet of being taken into Mistress’s bed. Her loss to Charlie hadn’t helped.
Two other women knelt on the stone floor. To Mistress’s right was a tall, slender brunette, some years older than Hana, maybe even in her early thirties. Hana knew her only by her first name – Roni. Her pretty face bore rings in both eyebrows, one in her left nostril and another in her upper lip. She wore a cropped tee that bared her midriff and revealed another ring in her navel. All were testaments to fights she had lost to the Pain Seekers. Hana knew her story – she had been an acolyte of the Pleasure Cult for the past year but Mistress Monique had seen something in her and decided to steal her away from them. It had taken a long time and a concerted effort – beneath her clothing, Hana knew, were other piercings in both her nipples and her pussy – but they had finally broken her. Now she was one of Mistress’s current favorites.
In front of Monique knelt a blonde, slender to the point of being skinny. She was Phoebe Abbott. She wasn’t strictly aligned to any of the cults and flitted from one to another as her mood took her – and it seemed to take her frequently. The running joke was that she belonged to whichever cult had last fucked her. Hana despised her, as did most of the other Pain Seekers.
Phoebe knelt with her mouth open wide to display the silver stud that nestled in the center of her tongue. She’d gotten that when she’d signed up for some chores here at the Eyrie but blown them off and then lied to Mistress about it. She’d also gotten a night in the dungeons at the hands of the woman she’d tried to blame. Mistress made her keep her mouth open like that, to show her shame. A trail of drool ran down her chin and stained her grey tee. Hana tried not to sneer at her.
Charlie sat on the end of the couch, farthest from the door. Roughly the same height as Hana’s five feet four but more sturdily built, she was darkly tanned from long hours on the beach. Her blonde hair just brushed her shoulders. She was dressed in black like everyone else except Phoebe, though more briefly in a sports bra that hugged her small but well-rounded bosom, and short black shorts that clung to her hips and barely reached the tops of her thighs, leaving her short but muscular legs bare. Her belly was also bare and a gold charm glinted there – the three-spoked wheel universally acknowledged as the BDSM symbol. A black patent leather collar, identical to the one Hana wore, encircled her throat.
Monique looked up as Steffi, Emmy and Hana entered. “Good evening girls.” There was just a hint of rebuke in her tone. Hana noticed Emmy stiffen and had to suppress a shudder of her own. It did not do to displease Mistress. After Hana had lost to Charlie, she herself had endured the most menial chores at the Eyrie – besides working her regular job at her family’s nail salon – and she still held painful memories of the day she had suffered in the gibbet down at the foot of the mansion’s driveway, acting as a human signpost.
Across from Charlie, on the end of the couch nearest the door, perched Angelina Suarez – Ms Angelina, Mistress Monique’s lieutenant and girlfriend. She was shorter than Charlie or Hana, barely feet five tall. She was more slightly built too – not as skinny as Phoebe but a lot shorter. Hana figured she had to weigh no more than eighty pounds, which gave Charlie at least a twenty-pound advantage or even more. Angelina wore a loose-fitting black tee that was long enough to cover her butt. Her legs were bare like Charlie’s.
Looking at the two now, Hana began to wonder if Charlie might have a chance after all. Part of her was relieved, but another part was annoyed at the thought that the arrogant bitch might soon make a big jump up the cult’s pecking order. She hadn’t forgotten that day on the beach – she had a score to settle with Charlie.
She took her seat alongside her friends, on the same end of the couch as Charlie, though Hana took care to sit as far away from the blonde as she could. She didn’t even want to look at Charlie. It was bad enough that she was associated with this challenge. She didn’t want to think about what might happen to all four of them if Charlie’s plan went wrong. That was the irony of it. She had to hope that her enemy would win.
Angelina’s long black hair hung loose and framed her narrow, even gaunt features. Her cheeks were sunken, her high cheekbones even more prominent than usual and her dark brown eyes seemed unnaturally large. A gold ring pierced the septum of her nose. Hana had been shocked when she had first seen it, earlier in the evening. There had been all kinds of rumors buzzing back and forth among the Pain Seekers concerning the punishment meted out to her by Monique after her loss and subsequent defilement. The ring was evidence that Mistress had not ignored Angelina’s disgrace.
Anna followed the three of them into the room and shut the door behind her. She went and took her place, kneeling on the floor to Monique’s left. Monique reached out languidly to stroke the blonde’s hair. “Thank you for fetching them, Anna.”
The older woman looked over her shoulder adoringly at Monique. “My pleasure, Ms.”
Monique looked at Charlie silently, then at Angelina. Hana followed her gaze. The skinny brunette was glaring venomously at Charlie. The intensity of that gaze – that hatred – sent a chill up Hana’s spine. Again an awful sense of foreboding came over her.
“Charlotte.” Mistress Monique was one of the few people who didn’t call Charlie by her nickname.
Charlie started, then shot quickly to her feet and faced Monique. “Mistress.”
“Angelina.”
Angelina rose more slowly. She too faced Monique from her own side of the room. “Monique.” She was the only one who didn’t use the title ‘Mistress’ when addressing Monique.
Monique turned her gaze to Charlie again. “You wish to challenge Angelina for her place in the cult hierarchy.”
Charlie nodded. “Yes Mistress. This…” Hana wondered what insult she was about to dish out, but she ended with, “She’s not worthy.”
Nevertheless, Angelina hissed the same threat she had uttered before. “I’ll [i]ruin[/i] you!” She looked all around her as she spoke, and Hana knew with dreadful certainty that she meant not just Charlie, but all of them.
Monique’s right eyebrow lifted just the tiniest amount. “And for her place in my bed?” she added to Charlie.
Charlie bowed her head slightly. “That’s not for me to say, Mistress…though of course I’d love to serve you in…in every way.” That brought another threatening growl from Angelina.
Monique looked at each of them in silence for a long moment. At last she nodded. “Very well. You may settle this in combat. May the best woman win.”
Angelina cursed again under her breath. She turned toward Charlie and Hana thought she was going to attack the blonde immediately. Instead, Angelina tore her tee off over her head and hurled it away from her. It struck the wall several yards away and landed on the couch not far from where Anna knelt.
The Latina wore only a plain black thong under the tee. Her boyish breasts were bare, their peaks so dark they were almost black, and fully erect in anticipation of the fight. Below, the outline of her ribs was clearly visible – but so were the lines of her hard abs.
Charlie looked Angelina up and down, and sneered. “So, it’s gonna be like that, huh?” She lifted her own arms and peeled her sports bra up over her head. She too tossed it aside, though less aggressively than Angelina had done. Charlie was bigger in the bust than Angelina – which wasn’t difficult – but hardly buxom – perhaps a B-cup. She had more flesh on her bones and seemingly more muscle too. Looking at the two of them, standing scowling at one another, Hana again wondered if maybe Charlie might have a chance of winning this confrontation after all.
The two women paced one another, a few yards apart, as they retreated to the vacant end of the room. That end was floored with hard rubber matting, and the walls were padded with the same material. This room was purpose-built for fighting.
They began to circle, watching each other warily, looking for an opening, each trying to anticipate her enemy’s opening move. “I’ll make you a deal, skank,” said Charlie contemptuously. “I’ll let you choose where I’ll pierce you after I make you my bitch.” She laughed. “I might even take you out on the town tonight…maybe get you laid. I heard you’ve developed a taste for cock.”
Angelina snarled, “CUNT!” and flew at Charlie – but that was exactly what Charlie wanted her to do. As the blonde sidestepped the headlong charge, she brought her arm up and rammed her elbow savagely into the back of Angelina’s head as the Latina hurtled past her. Angelina let out a grunt of surprise and pain as the blow landed. Knocked off balance, she stumbled forward and, though she threw her arms up to brace herself, she still fetched up hard against the wall.
Charlie was quick to take advantage of the opportunity, and she was spinning on her heel to follow Angelina even while the smaller woman was still in motion. Her right leg arced out and, just as Angelina pushed herself off the wall, Charlie’s bare foot caught her in the small of the back and slammed her face-first against the hard rubber matting with a loud “Uuunnnggghhh!”
The blonde followed up the kick with a body-slam that would have crushed Angelina between her body and the wall, had not the Latina, acting on some sixth sense, flung herself sideways at the last instant. Charlie’s shoulder therefore impacted the wall instead of the mid-point between Angelina’s shoulders as she intended. She swore in frustration. “Fuck!”
Angelina was not content with merely avoiding Charlie’s attack however. She lashed out with a kick of her own that caught her enemy across the back of the knees. Pressed against the wall as Charlie was, the leg sweep didn’t have the full effect it might have but Charlie’s legs still collapsed and she went down hard on her back with another cry of pain and rage.
Like a striking snake, Angelina leapt at the fallen blonde. Charlie barely managed to roll to her right, underneath the Latina’s leap, in time to avoid the double-footed stomp that would have crushed her belly. Hana winced. If that blow had landed, it would likely have ended the fight right there and then.
Charlie rolled further and sprang to her feet as Angelina recovered her balance and turned to face the blonde. Both sets of eyes, brown and green, were alight with hatred and the desire to destroy the other woman. Hana noticed Steffi, sitting alongside her, shiver slightly.
First blood, figuratively speaking, had gone to Charlie but Hana knew that meant nothing. She had seen too many fights turned around in the last instant by a desperate but ruthless antagonist. Besides, Angelina was an indwelt. Nobody really knew what that meant. There were rumors of voodoo, spirit possession and all sorts of other wild notions. Maybe Mistress Monique knew the truth, but certainly none of the slaves and acolytes did. What they did know – what everyone knew – was that those reputed to be indwelt were faster and fiercer. They also had an uncanny ability to absorb pain and recover from injury. Charlie needed to hurt Angelina – not just hurt her but keep hurting her, overwhelm her so she had no time to recover.
Charlie evidently knew that, because she immediately launched another attack. Ducking low, she lunged and before the Latina had time to dodge, Charlie’s right shoulder slammed into Angelina’s midriff between her ribs and her navel. Angelina did her best to absorb the impact, folding forward over the blonde’s body with an “Oopphh!!” of exhaled air. She also surprised the onlookers by standing her ground. Charlie forced her back a step with the initial impact but no more than that as Angelina, despite her smaller size, stopped the blonde’s charge dead in its tracks.
Held tight with Charlie’s arms encircling her beneath her butt, Angelina squirmed like an eel trying to break free. She roared in anger as Charlie clung relentlessly to her. She pounded her fists down onto Charlie’s back in what might have looked to a casual observer like uncoordinated, random blows but Hana saw the points of impact and knew that Angelina was targeting the blonde’s kidneys for maximum pain. Charlie howled. With a snarl of sadistic glee, Angelina raked her nails up the blonde’s back from the waistband of her shorts to the backs of her shoulders, leaving livid welts and breaking the skin in more than a few paces.
With another roar of anger that echoed around the room, Charlie drew back several steps, pulling Angelina with her and unbalancing her enemy slightly. Then she thrust with all the power her short but powerful legs could muster, and this time she succeeded in driving Angelina backwards, first one step then a second, gradually gaining speed until they both hurtled toward the far end of the room, locked in a struggling embrace.
Hana held her breath, her entire body tensed as though it was she herself who was about to be crushed into the curving wall, but at the last instant Angelina managed to twist her body to the right, sending Charlie stumbling in a quarter circle so that they both crashed into the wall together. Angelina took the impact on her right shoulder and sprawled against the rubber padding.
Charlie hit the wall more heavily, all down her left side, and grunted hard at the force of the blow. She went down to one knee, hunched over, then straightened up sharply as Angelina’s rising knee caught her a solid blow under the chin. Hana could hear her teeth snap together with a sharp [i]crack[/i] and winced. The blonde almost went over on her back but somehow caught herself and, as Angelina recovered her balance after the knee lift, staggered to her feet. The blow had hurt Charlie, and she stood swaying, one hand on the wall.
Angelina attacked immediately, leaping forward and firing a fist at Charlie’s face, obviously hoping to exploit her advantage and rattle the blonde’s brains some more. Charlie wasn’t as addled as she appeared however and she swayed sideways so the Latina’s blow passed harmlessly over her shoulder. Charlie twisted further, grasping and trapping Angelina’s wrist. In a single smooth motion she twisted her enemy’s arm up into a hammerlock, grabbed Angelina’s long hair in her other hand and slammed the smaller woman’s face into the wall.
The Latina sagged in Charlie’s grip but Charlie held her up, yanked her off the wall and drove her back against it a second time. Though Angelina managed to get her free arm up in front of her, all that did was to pound her face into her own forearm instead of the wall itself. She let out a moan that told everyone in the room she was hurt.
Charlie’s lips drew back in a cruel smile. “That’s just the beginning, bitch!” She wrenched Angelina’s arm up higher, almost to the nape of her neck, dragging another yelp of pain from the suffering Latina. Taking a moment, Charlie wrapped the thick tresses of Angelina’s hair around her enemy’s wrist, effectively binding her arm up behind her back and relieving Charlie of the need to hold it there. With one hand thus freed, Charlie went to work, hammering her fist into precisely selected spots on Angelina’s body. “You think you know how to inflict pain, bitch?” Her fist pounded each of the Latina’s kidneys in turn, eliciting twin screams of anguish. “I’m gonna [i]school[/i] you!” She dragged her nails slowly and deliberately down Angelina’s back, relishing her enemy’s agony.
After her fingers made a second slow, tortuous journey down the Angelina’s spine, Charlie rammed her own body into Angelina’s back, crushing the breath out of her enemy again before jerking her off the wall by her hair. Charlie went down to one knee, hauling Angelina after her, and the dark-haired woman let out a gasp of pain as her own downward momentum thrust Charlie’s raised knee into the small of her back.
Her face tight with pain, the Latina lifted her head and tried to rise but Charlie slammed an elbow into her chest and knocked her back down again, bending Angelina’s body over her knee. Taking advantage of her enemy’s stretched-out abs, she stabbed her thumb into Angelina’s navel, spread her fingers wide over the Latina’s flesh and then twisted in a vicious belly claw that drew an anguished scream from her antagonist.
One hand still bound up in her own hair, Angelina clutched frantically at Charlie’s wrist with the other, trying ineffectually to pry the blonde’s fingers from her belly. Again she tried to lift herself up, using only the power of her own tortured abs, but again she failed as Charlie wrenched her head back down by the hair. Angelina’s bare feet drummed the floor in her agony as Charlie tormented her, giggling with malicious enjoyment. Growing tired of the belly claw, she slipped her fingers inside Angelina’s thong and went to work with her nails down there. Angelina’s screams became ear-splitting.
Hana glanced sideways at Monique, wondering how her Mistress would react to seeing her lover tormented so cruelly. Monique’s face was a blank mask, but cold fire burned in her ice-blue eyes. Hana felt a chill run down her spine. Whatever the outcome of this fight, things would not go well for the loser – perhaps not even for the winner.
The women who knelt on either side of Monique were not so controlled. Phoebe’s mouth still hung open, her eyes wide. One hand was busy between her legs. Roni was literally squirming, her face flushed dark with lust all the way down to her chest, and Anna too was rocking gently, grinding her pussy onto her heels beneath her. Hana’s lip curled in disdain. [i]Weak sluts.[/i]
Eventually Charlie grew bored with the pussy torture too. She shoved herself abruptly to her feet, tipping Angelina off her to sprawl in a heap on her side on the padded floor. “Has been!” spat the blonde. “Or maybe you never were all that you’re cracked up to be! Maybe it was all just an act!”
Angelina managed to disentangle her arm from her hair. She rolled painfully onto her belly and pushed herself ponderously up onto all fours with one hand, cradling her ravaged belly with the other. She lifted her head slowly and glared at Charlie balefully through the tangled curtain of her hair.
“What’s the matter?” sneered Charlie. “Cat got your tongue?” She stepped forward and launched a kick that caught Angelina high in her midsection, between her protecting arm and her ribs. The little Latina let out a groan as the force of the blow flipped her onto her back and sent her rolling away from Charlie, closer to the end of the room where the onlookers watched.
Again Angelina pushed herself up with one arm, forcing a gasping breath into her chest. Her head hung down this time. “Answer me when I speak to you, bitch!” barked Charlie. “After a night in the play room, you’ll learn some manners!” She sent another kick into the unresisting Angelina’s quivering body, and again she sent the smaller woman rolling across the floor.
Charlie was doing all the right things, keeping the pressure on her enemy, keeping her in pain, punishing her hard, rapidly and repeatedly, giving her no time to recover. She was setting Angelina up for the [i]coup de grace[/i], the final devastating blow that would knock her out and end this fight. That was the only way it would end. Charlie knew that as well as Hana and all the others did. Angelina would never submit to her.
Angelina lay on her side, gasping like a fish out of water. Her movements were much slower this time as she groped for purchase on the smooth floor, trying to pull her arms beneath her and lever herself up. She hadn’t quite managed to do so when Charlie stepped up to her from behind, seized her by the hair and dragged her halfway – but not all the way – to her knees. “Need some help, skank?” Angelina groaned through gritted teeth but didn’t reply. She tried to lift her arms to reach for Charlie’s grasping hand but they only rose partway before falling limply at her sides.
Charlie stomped a foot into the base of Angelina’s spine, slamming her crotch hard into the floor, arching her back painfully at the same time and stretching out her injured abs once more. “That all you got, bitch?” she taunted her battered enemy. She echoed Hana’s thoughts – and no doubt those of everyone else in the room – as she added, “Thought you were supposed to be tough.”
Hana couldn’t believe how effectively Charlie was controlling the Latina. Angelina was clearly in agony, unable to stand, barely able to move. Where was the fearsome stamina, the tenacity, the indomitable will and implacable cruelty that had made her so feared among the Pain Seekers and all the rest of the town? Was it really going to be that easy for Charlie to defeat her and take her place? Had that episode in the club in San Vicente really broken Angelina’s spirit? Hana had to wonder.
Charlie shook Angelina back and forth like a cat toying with a mouse. The Latina groaned louder. Tears streaked her face. Her eyes blazed with helpless fury, but her body had no answer to Charlie’s relentless onslaught. “Guess it really was all an act, huh?” Charlie hurled Angelina over onto her back. The Latina rolled painfully onto her side. Charlie stepped in and launched a kick that sank her foot deep into the pit of Angelina’s stomach. Angelina folded up around her foot with a strangled cry of anguish.
“You won’t be getting any cock tonight, bitch,” sneered Charlie as she jerked her leg free. She stalked in a slow circle around her gasping victim. “The only guy in the house is Lucas, and I’m pretty sure he’s got better taste than to bother with your bony ass.” She drove her foot into Angelina’s lower back, eliciting another grunt of pain from the smaller woman. “Don’t worry though…me and my girls know where the strappies are, so you’ll be plenty satisfied.”
Watching, Hana made sure she showed no reaction. Internally, she was torn between a sadistic thrill at the thought of getting to use a Domme like Angelina, and the wish that Charlie would leave her and the others completely out of her crazy ambitions. She wasn’t convinced that Charlie winning this fight would be an entirely good thing. [i]Better the devil you know…[/i]
Charlie completed her circle. “Look at the mighty, fallen,” she taunted Angelina, and rammed her foot into her gasping foe’s midriff once more. Angelina made an inhuman sound as she curled up again around Charlie’s leg.
As the blonde went to wrench her foot away again however, Angelina remained curled around her leg, clinging to her like a limpet. Charlie stumbled slightly. “Get off me, bitch!”
Angelina didn’t let go however. Charlie yanked her leg back, dragging the Latina along with her. As she did so, Angelina bent her head further forward, opened her mouth wide and sank her teeth into the blonde’s bare toes. Charlie shrieked in surprise and pain. Halfway through another attempt to extricate herself from her enemy’s grip, she was balanced awkwardly and as Angelina chewed savagely on her toes she started, tripped and fell heavily on her butt.
Without bothering to regain her feet, the Latina leapt on her. Charlie struggled to lever herself up into a sitting position, just in time to take Angelina’s balled fist on the point of her chin, knocking her down on her back. Before she could do anything but groan as the back of her head struck the floor, Angelina fired a backfist that struck her hard on the right temple and snapped her head savagely to the side. She went limp for a moment.
Hana looked on, incredulous. Just seconds ago she would have sworn that Charlie had this fight all sown up. Angelina had been a pain-wracked, weeping wreck on the floor at Charlie’s feet. Her comeback was nothing short of stunning. Hana took her eyes off the two for an instant and glanced furtively around her at the other onlookers. Their expressions betrayed their own surprise.
It took Charlie no more than a moment to get her wits about her however. As Angelina scrambled up over her, trying to straddle her and pin her down, she twisted her hand in the smaller woman’s dark hair and pulled savagely, jerking Angelina to the left while simultaneously twisting her body and shoving with her other leg. With a roar of rage, Angelina toppled off her and went down on her side.
Charlie rolled with her and for an instant the blonde was on top, trying to turn the tables and pin Angelina to the floor. The Latina had one knee free however and she rammed it up into Charlie’s side, just under her ribs. With a cry of pain, the blonde tumbled off her.
Angelina hurled herself at Charlie once more but had to duck to avoid Charlie’s slashing nails aimed at her face. As Charlie’s arm swept over her head however, she lashed out with both arms, seizing a handful of Charlie’s hair in one hand and the blonde’s left breast in the other. Charlie squealed as she sank her fingers deep into the soft flesh, squeezing and twisting.
Grabbing Angelina’s hand in both her own, the blonde tore the tormenting fingers from her breast with a roar of anger. “You [i]cunt![/i]” However, she neglected Angelina’s other hand in her hair and before she could retaliate, Angelina yanked her down on her side and speared her steepled fingers upward under Charlie’s ribs.
Air and spit exploded from the blonde’s open mouth. She gave a breathless groan of anguish, instinctively grabbing at her wounded belly but, probably also acting out of instinct, kicked out with both feet in a desperate defense. Her feet struck Angelina on the left hip and did not do any appreciable damage but did shove the Latina backwards, at least a yard across the floor.
That gave Charlie the space she needed to roll up to her knees. She went to stand but made the mistake, as she did so, of turning her back on her enemy. She had gotten only partway to her feet when Angelina lunged at her. The attack was ill-timed and she didn’t manage to do any more than send the blonde stumbling a step forward, but still her fingers hooked into the waistband of Charlie’s shorts and dragged them downward, exposing the blonde’s pert, tanned butt.
Charlie wriggled her body to jerk herself free, but Angelina hung on doggedly, dragging her shorts down further. Charlie tried to turn to face her attacker but she risked overbalancing and falling if she did so. She tried to kick out backwards to break Angelina’s grip but the Latina grabbed her ankle, snarling. Charlie kicked out again, her bare heel caught Angelina in the chest and the dark-haired woman let go of Charlie’s foot. Charlie stumbled forward another step, hauling Angelina with her, before the Latina’s weight caused her shorts to slip down over her hips and then, more quickly, to her knees.
Angelina lost her grip just as Charlie lost her balance. The Latina crashed down on her belly and the blonde too fell forward, though she broke her fall with her outstretched arms. Wriggling free of her shorts, she scurried away on all fours, putting some distance between her and her opponent, almost reaching the wall before she pushed herself into a crouch and then rose to her feet.
The Latina didn’t pursue her this time, but pushed herself up into a crouch and then stood slowly. She tossed her head, flicking her long hair off her face, and glared at her opponent. Charlie returned her gaze with equal hatred and contempt. “Nice try, bitch. You got away once. You won’t get another chance.”
“Nor will you,” promised Angelina. She stalked toward Charlie on the balls of her feet. Charlie slipped sideways, away from the wall, and again the two circled one another. Both were panting from the exertion. Sweat glistened on their bare flesh and matted their tangled hair against their heads and shoulders.
Both carried the marks of the savage contest so far. Angelina’s abs still showed the livid red marks from Charlie’s belly claw. Eight crimson trails ran in parallel from her shoulders to her waist. There was another red mark on her forehead where Charlie’s nails had barely nicked her as the two had rolled about on the floor. Her back and belly bore blotches that would be bruises by morning.
Charlie had not escaped unscathed either. She too bore rows of angry welts down her back, and several more down her bare butt where Angelina’s claws had raked her skin as the Latina had torn her shorts off her. In Hanna’s estimation though, she had taken less punishment than Angelina, and dished out more of her own. She was moving just a little more easily, breathing a little less heavily. She darted forward suddenly. Angelina leapt back with a sharp grunt, but Charlie halted her charge. It had been only a feint. They resumed their circling.
Take it to her! Hana almost cried the words out loud. This could not be a battle of attrition. Charlie could not wear Angelina down. She had to stay on the offensive, give her enemy no respite, blast through her defenses and take her down with a knockout blow – and she had to do it soon. The longer the fight went on, the more Angelina’s powers of recuperation would become a decisive factor.
Charlie seemed to sense this and again she lunged. Angelina jumped backwards as before but this time Charlie’s attack was not a ruse. She kept going and slammed bodily into her enemy, grabbing at Angelina with both hands in an attempt to force the smaller woman backward and crush her into the wall.
Hana expected Angelina to brace herself and stand her ground as she had done at the start of the fight. The little Domme was wickedly strong for her size. Instead however, she let Charlie bulldoze her backwards for a step and then, getting her own arms up and twisting her fingers in Charlie’s hair, she fell backwards. Charlie screamed aloud at the sudden yank on her scalp, but her cry was cut off as Angelina’s foot rammed deep into her navel. It was Angelina’s cry of malevolent triumph that punctuated the blonde’s passage through the air, tumbling in an arc to crash down on her back. She hit the floor so hard that she bounced, but her progress was suddenly arrested by Angelina’s grip on her hair. Charlie lay there a moment, writhing in pain.
That moment was enough for Angelina to roll rapidly onto her belly, gather her legs beneath her and, with uncanny speed, spring at her fallen foe. Charlie retained the wherewithal to try to scramble away but, hurt and half winded, she was not fast enough. Angelina mounted the blonde, grabbed her arms and pinned them down to the floor. The muscles rippled beneath the glistening skin of Charlie’s arms as she strained to push herself up, but Angelina leaned harder on her and Charlie lacked the leverage to force her off.
Charlie’s legs were splayed either side of Angelina’s slender torso and she tried to bring them up and lock her ankles into a body scissors around the Latina’s narrow waist. Angelina anticipated that however and, pushing herself up higher over the supine Charlie, she hooked her ankles inside the blonde’s calves and forced her legs out wide in a grapevine hold.
From Hana’s vantage point at the far end of the room, she found herself staring up between the two women’s spread legs. Angelina retained her skimpy black thong but Charlie’s shorts lay discarded on the other side of the arena and her naked crotch was on brazen display to all the onlookers. Her outer lips were brown, darker than the skin of her tanned thighs, but her inner labia and the flesh between were startlingly pink. An unwelcome vision flashed into Hana’s mind – the vision of Charlie’s pussy up close as the blonde had used her roughly and repeatedly on the beach and, afterwards, here at the Eyrie.
She pushed that humiliating memory from her mind. She had enough to be concerned with, here in the present. She was still unsure which result she preferred in this fight. Watching Charlie taunt and torment Angelina earlier, Hana had wondered what life in the Pain Cult would be like with the spiteful blonde as top girl, second only to Mistress Monique. Now, with Angelina dominating Charlie and getting the best of the fight, she dreaded the immediate consequences if Angelina was victorious. She was more convinced than ever that Angelina would wage a cruel vendetta against Charlie and everyone who knew her. She wasn’t sure which would be worse, but there seemed to be no other possible outcome. She shuddered.
Charlie struggled, squirming, beneath the Latina, but Angelina held her fast. With every vain attempt to free herself, the blonde grew weaker, and her defeat more certain. Angelina loomed over her, laughing vindictively. “You’re mine, [i]concha[/i],” she snarled, lapsing into Spanish. “I’ll break you so completely you won’t remember your own name.” She dipped her head and, very deliberately, bit Charlie’s left nipple hard. Charlie screamed, as much in terror of what was to come as from the present pain. “Get used to it, bitch. This is your life from now on.” She moved her head across to Charlie’s other breast and bit its turgid peak too. Charlie screamed again.
Angelina lifted her head again, her face hovering inches above Charlie’s. “So…you’ll let me choose where you’ll pierce me, will you, bitch?” She leaned closer. “I don’t think I’ll give you the same choice. In fact, I’ve got – “ She interrupted herself with a sudden piercing shriek of pain as Charlie, so quickly that Hana did not even see the movement, whipped her head up, opened her mouth and clamped her teeth around the gold ring that dangled from Angelina’s nose. With an animal growl the blonde twisted her head violently.
As Angelina instinctively reared back, cursing vilely in both English and Spanish, she let go of Charlie’s wrist and slammed the heel of her open hand up under the blonde’s chin. Charlie didn’t hold onto the Latina’s nose however. Her ingenious intent had obviously been simply to break Angelina’s hold. She ignored the blow to her chin and as soon as her hand was free, she clenched it into a fist and hammered it into her enemy’s right temple.
Angelina keeled over sideways. Charlie bucked her hips hard and, disentangling herself from Angelina’s legs, rolled away in the other direction. She came up to her knees. Her face was pinched with pain – Hana could see Angelina’s teeth marks on her breasts from all the way across the room – but her lips drew back in a cruel smile. “You’re not the only one who knows how to use her teeth, [i]cunt[/i]!”
The Latina bared her teeth in a snarl as she too drew herself up into a crouch. She wiped a hand across her nose. There was a faint smear of blood on the back of her hand when she glanced briefly down at it. “I’ll [i]destroy[/i] you.” She didn’t raise her voice but still she spoke the words with chilling conviction.
“Not a chance, you skinny skank!” Charlie flung herself forward.
Angelina launched herself against her enemy at precisely the same moment. The two women came together with a wet slap of flesh on flesh, grappling, straining, muscles rippling as each sought to gain an advantage over the other. Charlie had size in her favor but Angelina had uncanny strength and stamina. They each pulled hair, clawed flesh, punched and slapped, grunting, cursing and squealing in pain and fury.
This continued for what seemed like minutes to the onlookers, though it could not have been more than thirty seconds. In a contest of strength such as this, Charlie should eventually prevail – at least against any other opponent. Angelina however, wasn’t just any other opponent. Hana held her breath, as did her friends.
Suddenly Angelina seemed to falter. She arched her spine as Charlie shoved her relentlessly backwards. The blonde had, at last, overwhelmed her. Charlie let out a roar of triumph and shoved harder to force the Latina down onto her back, there to pin her and finish her off.
Then Angelina swayed sideways, just as Charlie threw her full weight against the smaller woman. Charlie’s sweat-slicked flesh slid over Angelina’s and with a surprised squeal, the blonde pitched forward on her belly. She twisted her body and threw an arm out to grab a handful of Angelina’s hair but the Latina caught her wrist and thwarted her. She threw her leg over Charlie’s body and an instant later she was astride Charlie, her knees pinning her enemy’s arms, her butt pressed hard against the back of Charlie’s head, forcing the blonde’s face into the floor.
Charlie screamed in frustration and mounting panic. She pounded her fists wildly against the rubber matting, wriggling her body to gain enough room to pull her arms underneath her. If she could manage that, she still had the strength to lift herself up, even with Angelina on top of her.
Angelina was not going to let that happen. She drew herself up on her knees momentarily but before Charlie could exploit the opportunity, the Latina bounced her butt back down, slamming Charlie’s head and chest into the floor once more. Charlie’s cry of mingled pain and rage dwindled to a gasp as the impact knocked the wind out of her.
Her legs and lower torso were still free however. Squirming frantically, she tried to push her hips up, to bring her knees under her. Angelina reacted by leaning forward and sinking her nails viciously into the blonde’s bare ass. Charlie screamed in agony. She kicked out backwards with her right leg, evidently hoping to strike Angelina in the head or face and knock the Latina off her. Angelina let out an exultant “Ha!” as she caught her enemy’s ankle and yanked her leg up. With an amazing display of agility and desperation, Charlie lashed out with the other foot. It struck Angelina on her shoulder but she whipped her arm around Charlie’s ankle and pinned it in her armpit. Before she even knew it, Charlie was trapped tight.
“Oh fuck,” murmured Emmy softly from her place beside Hana. “The Crab.”
Angelina had the same thought. With a whoop of cruel joy, she leaned backwards, pulling Charlie’s legs with her, bending the blonde’s back in an agonizing curl until Charlie’s feet almost touched the back of her shoulders. Charlie howled in desperate anguish but any struggle, any movement only increased her anguish.
“Give it up, [i]concha[/i]!” barked Angelina, “Give it up while you can still walk!”
“Go…fuck…yourself…” hissed Charlie through clenched teeth, her voice wracked with pain.
Angelina tensed and for a moment Hana thought she might actually throw herself backwards and possibly snap Charlie’s spine. She didn’t get to find out however. Monique’s voice cracked like a whip. “NO!”
For an instant everyone froze. Then the Latina twisted her body to look over her shoulder at her Mistress and lover. She twisted Charlie’s body too as she did so, and Charlie cried out once more in agony. Anger flashed in Angelina’s eyes. “I wasn’t going to.”
“Find another way,” said Monique. Her tone brooked no dissent.
“I’m not going to let her go.”
“I didn’t tell you to. Make her surrender…another way.”
Angelina paused for a moment. Then she nodded. She straightened up, relieving some of the pressure on Charlie’s spine, but then reached forward and clasped the beleaguered blonde by her kneecaps, arching her back again. She glanced at Monique again. “How’s this?” Then she whipped her body forward and drove her forehead downward in a vicious head butt that slammed into the blonde’s crotch.
Charlie went rigid. Her eyes flew open so wide that it seemed they would pop out of her head. Her mouth too gaped wide, all her teeth exposed as she screamed a silent scream. Then suddenly the pain caught up with the shock and her entire body convulsed as an inhuman wail erupted from her and echoed around the room.
Angelina kept her implacable hold as her victim writhed beneath her. Just as Charlie’s agonized gyrations began to subside, she butted the blonde again in precisely the same spot, crushing Charlie’s clit against her pubic bone. Charlie shook like a leaf and roared in agony again. Her fingers clawed desperately at the mat beneath her.
“I can do this all night, cunt!” snarled the Latina. “Ready for round three?” She drew her head up again, readying herself for the next blow.
“NO!!!” howled Charlie. “NO!!! PLEASE MS!!! PLE – “ She screamed so loud that her voice cracked. She lifted her head, then dropped it back against the floor again. “PLEASE! I’ll be good! I swear I’ll be good but don’t do that again! Please!”
Angelina halted but before she could release Charlie’s legs, Monique interrupted. “Charlotte.”
It was a while before Charlie summoned the will to answer her. “M…Mistress…?”
“Angelina is your [i]supérieure[/i].” Monique used the French pronunciation. “You will accept that.”
“Yes…yes Mistress.” There were tears of pain in Charlie’s eyes. Angelina still maintained her agonizing hold.
“You will submit to her from now on, just as you would to me…or what you’ve suffered tonight will seem like nothing. Do you understand?”
“She hasn’t even begun to suffer tonight,” Angelina promised ominously.
Monique silenced her with a look. “You can claim your prize tonight and until sunset tomorrow…just as you would after any other fight. And that will be the end of it. There will be no persecution. Do [i]you[/i] understand?”
Angelina took a long, slow breath. “Yes Monique.” She finally let Charlie’s legs fall to the mat and clambered slowly off the beaten blonde. Charlie lay there motionless, only her quiet sobs giving any indication that she was even conscious.
Anna was the first of the watchers to move. She reached behind her to where Angelina’s tee lay on the sofa, took it and, rising to her feet, walked past the others to where Angelina stood unsteadily over her defeated enemy. Without any acknowledgement, Angelina took the tee from Anna’s outstretched hands and slipped it over her head.
There was another long pause, while the entire room waited expectantly, before Angelina bent at the knees, thrust a hand into Charlie’s tangled hair and hauled her up to her knees. “Like I said,” she told the battered blonde, “you haven’t begun to suffer yet. But now you will.” The onlookers watched in silence as she half led, half dragged Charlie from the room.
Hana looked at Emmy, then at Steffi. Both were pale. They were imagining, as was Hana, what Angelina had in store for Charlie. As Hana turned her eyes upon Mistress Monique, she found she was already the object of Monique’s cool gaze. “As for you three…” Monique began.
Hana was the first to slide off the couch to her knees, facing Monique. Her friends joined her a second later. “Yes Mistress?” they echoed in unison.
“You could have prevented this…this discord in My house.”
Hana opened her mouth to say, “I tried!” but stopped herself.
“I know,” replied Monique, correctly interpreting the unspoken protest. “But you failed and because you failed, you condemned your friend.” She glanced at the door through which Angelina and Charlie had exited. “Charlotte is going to have a very bad night.” The tone of her voice sent icy fingers around Hana’s heart.
“As for you two,” Monique gazed at Steffi and Emmy, “You didn’t even try to dissuade Charlotte. That was hardly loyal of you. You failed your friend just as much as Hana did…and for that, you all deserve to be punished.”
Emmy looked fearfully toward the door. “But Angelina’s – “
“Not by Angelina.” Monique cut her off. She leaned forward and placed a hand on the shoulder of the brunette – Roni, the girl they had stolen from the Pleasure Cult. “Roni, you’ll take Emily for the night.”
The girl looked at Monique, wide-eyed. “Me, Ms? But I’m…I’m not…I don’t…”
“Use your imagination…and use her well,” Monique went on, “and I’ll reward you…with a night in my company.”
Roni suddenly beamed. “Ohmygod! Really? I get to serve you personally?”
“Yes, pet.” Monique turned to Emmy, who was looking from her to Roni, aghast. “Think yourself lucky, Emily,” she forestalled Emmy’s protest. She waved dismissively. “Go.” Emmy went to rise but Monique stopped her. “No…on your knees…as fits your station.” With a look of horror, Emmy complied and trailed the jubilant Roni through the door.
That left Hana and Steffi, facing their Mistress and awaiting their fate. Hana glanced from Monique to Phoebe, still kneeling at Monique’s feet. The skinny blonde was a conniving bitch but she lacked the imagination to be truly cruel. Hana could endure a night at her hands. It would be unpleasant, but tolerable.
Monique turned her eyes on Steffi. “Stefanie…you will serve Phoebe for the night.”
Phoebe’s face broke into a delighted smile. “I get to use her, Ms?”
“In whatever way you wish. Do a good job with her and you will have redeemed yourself in my eyes.”
Hana barely heard the words. Phoebe was to use Steffi – that meant that Hana was to be given to –
“Anna!”
She did not even realize she had spoken aloud until Monique said, “Yes…you’re to serve Anna.”
“But…Mistress!” Hana was stunned. “She’s not a Domme! She’s not even a switch! She’s a complete sub! A pain slut! She’s…” Her voice trailed off into silence. To be given to someone like Anna Sotheby…to be made lower than her…was beyond humiliation. It would destroy any vestige of status she held among the Pain Seekers. Yes, she had lost the fight against Charlie and that had resulted in Charlie’s challenge and loss tonight, but she had already paid for that defeat at Charlie’s as well as Mistress Monique’s hands. She looked over her shoulder at Anna in horror.
“She’s right, Ms,” offered Anna, inexplicably coming to Hana’s defense. “I’m no Domme.”
“Use her well,” countered Monique, “and it will be worth a great deal to me, Anna. Perhaps I’ll give you a chance at what you desire most.”
Anna had been about to speak again, but she stopped suddenly. “Ms? Do you mean…?”
Monique nodded. “You’ll have to prove yourself worthy, of course…this alone will not do it. But serve me well, and I’ll give you a chance to earn your collar.”
Anna gasped. “I…”
“Use her hard and use her thoroughly,” continued Monique.
“I…” repeated Anna incoherently, then corrected herself. “Yes, Ms.”
The older woman stepped forward and seized Hana by her hair, pulling her head back until Hana stared up at her in despair. She would rather have lost to Angelina herself tonight and suffered at Angelina’s hands, than to be degraded like this, by this…[i]pain slut[/i].
Anna leaned close, her face just inches from Hana’s. “You were wrong, earlier,” she murmured. “Anna tops Hana, tonight.” Her tongue thrust deep between Hana’s lips.
The End
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