Caroline sank to her knees in front of Ms. Benedict, the muscles protesting after the morning’s run, but her pussy was already responding to the heat of the other woman’s gaze. She reached out and ran her fingers through Caroline’s hair, slow and indulgent. Soft. Tender. Pulling Caroline closer, then tipping her chin up with a pair of fingers, examining her, looking deeper.
“Did you see him dismiss you?” she said and took a last sip of her wine. “Who will you be in this house Caroline? Not his slave, but you’re learning that already — so soon, but sooner is better than later.”
“I…,” Caroline started, but the blonde silenced her with a look.
“Oh, I know.” A cruel little smile. “You thought. You were sure. He said. He had you sign the contract. I’ve drafted so many, and I’ve watched many of them — like you, hopeful, eager even, and he tosses them all away like so much meat to his dogs.” She leaned back and took another sip of her wine. “Oh Caroline. Such a pretty thing, and that’s all you are now — a pretty bauble.”
That crooked smile Caroline had seen on the first day was back. “Did he give you away that first night? Your cunt was aching for him, and it should be. The man is a fucking god — gorgeous, monied, and cruel. Did you know that?” The blonde took a sip, another, a third — long, deep draughts of the red — leaving that final thought floating in the air between them.
“I’ve seen so many dumb cunts like you, Caroline. He rides in on his white horse, his sparkling teeth, his slick Southern drawl and his deep pockets sweeping them off their feet. They find themselves on their knees, begging for cock, and he leaves them to the staff — well, after Anastasia breaks them.” The blonde’s eyes flashed. “She so very good at it, too.”
“They all think they’re going to live in a palace, and their desperate little pussies are dripping, eager to be the whore for a man who would drape them in luxury and safety. If only they will live at the end of his leash. But you didn’t realize that he wouldn’t be holding it. He simply owns the leash as surely as he owns you. And he will happily give you away until you’ve become the whore you didn’t think was there inside you.”
Caroline licked her lips, watching the younger woman relax and sip, wondering if any of it was true, or was Ms. Benedict just as cruel as Anastasia. She was Ethan’s toy, not this blonde woman’s to play with. His lover. His attention was to be focused on her, his hands on her, his fingers exploring her body, his tongue, his cock, his whip or belt or crop. But Caroline, not everyone else. She’d promised herself to him, and here she was watching someone else yet again hold her leash and take their pleasure from her.
She couldn’t have miscalculated, and even if she had, was there even a choice left? She could leave as surely as she’d knelt in front of Ms. Benedict, but what would happen to her or her daughter if she did?
Ms. Benedict turned, both feet coming down onto the floor. “Here’s a truth you can keep,” she said. “You belong to him? Yes. But you perform for me.”
She slipped one hand beneath Caroline’s chin and lifted her face higher, then grasped the leash and tugged the brunette forward. “And tonight, pet, I’m going to decide whether or not you’re worth keeping around at all. Or should I have Ethan send you to the stables to be a toy for his hands?”
Caroline’s eyes fluttered shut. How much farther would she be from him then? Was this even real?
But before another thought could flutter across Caroline’s foggy mind, Ms. Benedict had leaned in, pressing her lips to Caroline’s, pushing her tongue inside, filling Caroline’s mouth with warm, sweet wine.
Caroline swallowed, felt a trickle spill down her chin and splash onto her breasts. It was warm and heady, or the kiss was. Or both. Her head was swirling when Ms. Benedict leaned back, a satisfied grin on her face. She licked her lips, mirroring the blonde woman, and they shared a moment of silence.
“Now, spread your knees for me, slave,” the blonde said softly, her voice carrying no more volume than before, but now edged with something that made Caroline’s breath catch. “Prove to me why I should waste a moment on you. Or should I ignore you like Ethan does? Perhaps you’d do well as simply a piece of furniture, a decoration on the wall. Or maybe you can be shackled to the kitchen floor every day so the staff can have whatever they want from you.”
Caroline flushed, felt the heat radiate out from her core with every word, every not-so-subtle threat. Ethan was gone into another room — had barely noticed her. But someone was here who wanted to touch her, and what she needed now was that touch more than anything. The threats — they didn’t turn her on, but Ms. Benedict’s eyes locked on her did. The thought of being ignored — it was everything she’d experienced in life already, wasn’t it? Her husband. Her daughter. Her life as a socialite but always feeling alone and isolated. Then, Ethan had bought and paid for her only to leave her to the whims of guests. Anastasia was cold and brutal — that much was clear already, and her only touch had been with instruments of torture. But here was someone who…saw her, even if all she saw was a naked slave.
The kitchen was something else entirely, but it wasn’t a threat as much as not being touched was. Somehow every word from the blonde woman’s mouth was filling her with desire. The darkness there. The threat. The growing ache between her legs, and the need to just be touched, to touch, to be part of something. To feel.
Even when she’d bent low in the grass and pressed her tongue against the leather of the riders’ boots, time after time, there was something there between them. That touch — physical or otherwise. That connection. The heat of their gaze hotter than the sun. Sweat had dripped down her breasts and hung like diamonds on her nipples, but the wetness between her legs dripping down her thighs in equal measure. To be touched, to have their focus, to meet their needs — it was all she needed, and she hadn’t even realized it until now.
Ted’s attention was always elsewhere. Casey’s, as well. And now Ethan was there to focus on her, to see her for the first time in so long. And still here, she was invisible. He looked right through her. But Ms. Benedict, as cruel as her smile was, was here, close, touching, fingers probing, pinching, pulling, and all Caroline wanted was more.
And it’s what she got, Ms. Benedict’s fingers sliding between her legs, her face filling her vision. The glass came to Caroline’s lips, the wine sliding over her tongue just as fingers pressed into her cunt. She swallowed and moaned, gulping down the wine just as her body came alive.
Then she pulled away, leaving Caroline breathless, Ms. Benedict’s tongue lapping up the wine dripping from her chin. “You like that, slave?” Ms. Benedict murmured. “That’s what Ethan doesn’t understand about you. He wants a showpiece. But I see what you need.” She smiled, leaned back and finished the glass in one go, setting it on the floor next to the chair and leaned in, pressing her lips to Caroline’s again. Her tongue followed, and the two danced to the wine’s notes.
Caroline drank the other woman down, accepting every drop.
“You need to be used, Caroline,” she said when her lips came away. “Not just displayed. Touched, teased and even tortured until your body craves nothing else.”
Caroline arched her back, spreading wider and leaning forward, eager for another taste.
“You need to be taught what it means to be a favorite. You’ve never been that for anyone, have you?” Ms. Benedict said, leaning close, her lips brushing the lips of the slave kneeling on the floor. Her fingers brushed the smooth skin just above Caroline’s cunt, and she grinned. “I could break you tonight. And you’d thank me for it.” She pinched Caroline’s clit — not painfully, just enough to shock her body into a single quake of pleasure.
Caroline moaned, remembering the crop, the sharp bites it took on her clit and how it made her cum.
“You want it?” she asked.
Caroline’s voice was desperate. “Yes.”
“You want to cum like a pet at my feet?”
“Yes, please—please—”
The fingers withdrew.
Caroline’s moan turned to a cry of frustration. Her hands clenched into fists behind her back. The ache between her legs pulsed like a second heartbeat.
“You don’t get to choose when you cum, pet,” Ms. Benedict said, sitting back smoothly. She pushed her fingers into her mouth and sucked. “You haven’t earned it yet.”
Caroline looked up at her, flushed and panting, her knees raw against the hardwood.
“I find it amusing that Ethan treats you like a toy for guests,” Ms. Benedict murmured, voice low. “And yet you’re desperate to be someone’s favorite. Anyone’s.”
Caroline swallowed, her eyes riveted on the other woman, unable to look away, afraid that if she blinked, Ms. Benedict would be gone, and she would be alone back leashed near the door.
“Well then. Prove it.”
Caroline’s lips parted. “How?”
“Use your mouth. No commands. No guidance. Impress me.”
She sat back in the great chair, spreading her legs beneath her skirt, one heel pressing into the rug to anchor her. Caroline didn’t hesitate. Not because she wasn’t humiliated—but because she was. And the shame pulsed through her like hunger. She needed this more than anything, and she would do whatever it took to keep this woman’s focus, her attention. Her touch.
She crawled forward, drinking in the other woman’s sighs when Caroline’s lips found the warm flesh of her inner thigh, kissing upward, gentle and searching. There was no praise. Just silence. A sip of wine.
“You’re prettier like this,” Ms. Benedict said. “Mouth open, eyes lowered. No voice. Just service.”
Caroline’s tongue pressed forward, mouth warm against slick silk, then she pulled the fabric aside. No instructions. No help. Caroline pressed in with her tongue and found what she’d craved, then found her rhythm—slow, desperate, willing. The guests had feasted at the table, sipped wine, laughed and told stories. Caroline’s place was here, and she knew it then as well as she’d known anything for a long time the moment her tongue found the other woman’s clit and felt her shudder.
The blonde’s breath caught once, sharply. Her legs tightened, then relaxed. Still, she didn’t touch Caroline. She just sat and let herself be worshipped.
Caroline moved instinctively, her tongue circling, flicking, tasting, adjusting as she listened to every breath, every tiny shift in posture. She devoured the meal she was promised, taking it slowly, savoring every moment, the juices running down her chin. She was starved, and she ate greedily as the other woman sighed and moaned, then came. It was quiet. A low moan, almost inaudible. Her hand trembled, her fingers in Caroline’s hair, soft and gentle.
When Caroline pulled back, breath ragged, mouth slick, her entire body was flushed with heat and need and the realization that everything she wanted was in the other woman’s touch, the satisfied look on her face, the bliss of her pussy. Had she ever craved something as much as she did now? She glanced up, taking in the woman before her, then her eyes fell on Ms. Benedict’s pussy — perfect, smooth, and glistening.
“Not bad,” said Ms. Benedict, reaching down to stroke Caroline’s cheek. “You needed that as much as I did, didn’t you? Desperation suits you.”
Caroline’s lips parted again. She didn’t even know what she was going to say.
But Ms. Benedict was already standing, straightening her skirt. “No, pet. You don’t speak. Not now. That mouth has purpose, and it is not in words.” She turned and walked away, one last word on her lips. “Stay.”
Caroline swallowed — naked, kneeling, aching, hands behind her back. Her thighs trembled with exhaustion and unspent desire. She’d been ignored, discarded by so many, but now...now she felt more alive than she had in years. And for a fleeting second, she wondered what Ms. Benedict might do next. And whether she would beg for it.
Author’s Notes: We started the story with Ms. Benedict, and now she’s back in a big way. She will play a big part in the rest of the story — a young, beautiful woman sitting at the right hand of power and letting her own desires and arrogance drive her. What this portends for Caroline is only for me to know and you to find out.
The cast of characters isn’t done yet though. We have yet to meet Armand, and when we get to the second act of the story, which takes place primarily in the French Quarter, we will meet even more characters for Caroline to meet, submit to and learn from as she begins to understand what is happening around her and how to navigate it
We’ve got a few more episodes to round out Act 1. Caroline’s life is about to get very busy with the derby coming up. Stay tuned!
Keep up the great work. I love it 😍
Thanks 😉