Possessing Allura by Reese Gabriel Page B

secrets?’
    It was an old expression, symbolizing the brutal nature of slave ownership, but Allura liked it for its literal connotations. If she wished she could disembowel her old friend. For that matter, she could also have her impregnated as a breeder; a fat breeding pig to make more stupid slaves like her.
    â€˜No, mistress, forgive me!’ She recoiled.
    â€˜Talk,’ Allura demanded, seizing a silk-covered nipple and twisting it savagely, the slave whimpering and squirming.
    â€˜The baron is handsome, yes,’ she gasped, ‘and he makes me wet, mistress.’
    Allura scowled, releasing her. She’d suspected as much. Her worthless slave had a crush. It was no surprise; what other sort of female would want a man of his low caliber? ‘How fitting,’ she brushed it off. ‘You are both pigs, after all.’
    Nothing more was said, but Allura continued to ruminate on the matter. Why had she felt a slight tremor in her tummy at the idea of another female liking or wanting Montreico? Why wasn’t it fun to play her humiliation games with Veeta, using this particular man as the butt of the joke? ‘Get into bed,’ she snapped. ‘It’s time to start the fun.’
    Veeta bowed her head. ‘Yes, mistress.’ The girl knew her part well. Perhaps she even enjoyed some of it. After all, when now did the former Saraveeta get a chance to lie alone and unmolested in a real bed, even for a few minutes? She claimed the huge penis hurt, but Allura thought she was exaggerating. Veeta was spoiled, that was all. Living in the castle was such a soft life for her; she had no idea what other slaves endured.
    Allura enjoyed watching her find her place on the bed, crawling so sweetly over the opulent coverings. What a fine little bride she would have been. In many ways she’d even have made a better princess, with her natural grace and ability to charm one and all by her mere presence. Even with Allura’s blonde beauty and the servants always creating a fuss about her, there were times when Saraveeta would steal the light from her entirely.
    â€˜Toss and turn, Veeta,’ directed Allura, trying to make things as realistic as possible. ‘You are dreaming of your lover; show me how that looks. He is coming and even in your sleep you are waiting.’
    Veeta’s eyes closed. She was on her left side, and with the delicate fingers of one hand she drew a line up her naked thigh. Her lips were moist, and she let out a small moan. This was no fabrication, Allura realized. The girl really was imagining a dream lover. Did she think herself still worthy of noble men, handsome dukes and princes to fawn over her? Was she thinking of Montreico, even?
    â€˜On your back,’ Allura commanded her personal plaything. ‘Open your legs and caress your breasts.’ The girl obliged, as manipulative as Allura had forced her to become. ‘Behold the princess,’ whispered Allura, playing the part of unseen narrator beside the bed. ‘Imagining sweet bliss. Not knowing the horror approaching.’
    The window was open, and a light breeze wafted into the chamber. Allura gazed upon the girl’s body bathed in moonlight, transformed into something almost ethereal. ‘Touch yourself, Veeta. Play with your clit.’ The slave’s pussy was glistening, and silvery liquid anointed her fingertips as she touched that magical bud. ‘Yes, that’s it, think about your handsome prince, he is coming to rescue you, to carry you away on wings of love, his cock inside you as you fly, his lips kissing your breasts, giving you orgasm after orgasm…’
    Allura stopped her just shy of fulfillment. ‘Enough. Now you are asleep.’
    The girl bit her lip. It took all her will power to deny herself, and laying her hands over her face she pretended to be unconscious.
    â€˜Sleep now, my princess.’ Allura’s voice drifted to nothing, her own sex on fire.