This is the continuation (and final part) of my previous two Slave stories that you can find
here and
here. It’s not necessary to read the others if you don’t want to, but events in them are occasionally referenced in this story.
The perspective is different in this story, and it is written in the third person, he and she rather than I and you. It just felt better.
The Trip (The Slave Part 3)
Part 1
The girl stands by the open window, moonlight dappling her skin. She is naked, save for a thin gold chain wrapped around her neck, a single gold charm hanging from it. A gentle breeze drifts in from over the lagoon, fluttering the edges of the curtains, pulled aside. She looks out over the water, listens to it lapping softly against the deserted quayside below her. She lets her gaze wander up and down the stone promenade, searching.
The silence is noticeable. No cars, no bustle of city life despite the fact that she is in a city. She sighs quietly as she thinks back over the last few days. She lifts her right hand to her breast, lets her fingers caress the nipple. It quickly springs to attention, stiffening at her touch. She slides her hand to her other breast and repeats. Still the promenade below is deserted.
She lets her hand slip slowly down her body, fluttering over her stomach, rubbing over her smooth pubic mound, lingering. She spreads her legs a little, lets her fingers drift between them and moans quietly as she brushes her lips. She closes her eyes for a moment, lost in her own growing arousal.
She opens her eyes again, and inhales sharply. Below her now on the promenade a solitary figure, looking up at her window. At her. Her fingers have paused their gentle caress, and she looks down at the figure. She can feel her heart beating faster. The figure doesn’t move or look away, even though she is clearly looking straight at them. Her fingers resume their stroking, and she spreads her legs just a little wider, her arousal growing. She can feel her butt cheeks parting as her fingers move faster and she smiles. She lets out a quiet moan, not loud enough for the person below to hear, and slides a finger inside herself.
Pulling the finger back out she spreads the wetness around herself, her body trembling now with arousal. She closes her eyes again momentarily, thinking of him, and when she opens them, the figure is still there, still gazing up at her window, gazing at her. Her fingers move faster, the pleasure growing fast, she spreads her legs still wider, feels her climax building. She lets out another quiet moan of arousal and pleasure, still too quiet to be heard outside, even though her eyes are fixed on the figure below.
She’s going to cum. She is rubbing herself fast now, wanting the climax, the release. Wanting it for herself, but also for him… She closes her eyes. Her legs are shaking as she strains for her orgasm, and then it breaks. She cries out his name softly, knowing he can see and hear her. Her body jerking, she falls forward and reaches her free hand out to lean on the window sill as she continues to stroke, finishing, knowing he’s watching, picturing him in her mind, and when she opens them again, the promenade is deserted once more. The person has gone.
She lets her breathing calm. She casts a final glance up and down the promenade below, then turns from the window back to the room, and looks at the man sitting up in the bed, looking at her. She walks slowly over to the bed and sits on it, looking at him.
“That was beautiful” he says quietly. “You are beautiful.” She lowers her eyes and smiles, can feel her face flushing gently. “He was there?” He asks. She nods.
“Yes.” She looks at him.
“Are you Ok?” he asks gently. She nods again.
“Yes I am. Really.” She smiles at him. “Are you?”
“I am, yes.” He’s looking at her, a faint smile on his lips.
“And you know that was for you…” She says, looking straight into his eyes. It’s not a question. He smiles again and nods at her.
“Yes, I do know that” he says.
“And that was the reason” she says. He’s looking at her.
“Yes, I know.” He says.
“And I want you to know that they will always be for you forever, no matter what…” She looks at him, and reaches up and touches the charm resting against her neck.
There is silence for a long moment, then he reaches out his hand and she takes it, climbing onto the bed and going to him. She snuggles against him and feels him kiss her hair. She puts her arms around him, holding him. They sit like that for a long while. Finally he speaks.
“Lie down” he says quietly, gently pushing her, and she complies. She watches as he leans over her and takes her hand, lifting it over her head and feels the handcuff snapped closed around her wrist, and she willingly lifts her other hand above her head for it too to be restrained. She lies there, looking up at him. He moves to straddle her, his erection pointing at her. She lets her eyes take him in. He leans forward and strokes her breasts, and despite her recent orgasm her nipples spring instantly to attention at his touch. He strokes them gently then leans forward and flicks them with his tongue. She moans quietly with pleasure. He leans forward and kisses her mouth, she can feel his breath on her face, hear his arousal.
She feels him pushing her legs apart with his knees, and she willingly spreads them. Her back arches and she lets out a low moan as she feels him enter her. She sighs happily as she feels him sliding in and out of her, slowly, gently. She looks at his face, sees his eyes staring at her and she smiles. He starts to move faster, and she bucks her hips. She wants him to have his pleasure, she wants to feel his cum shooting inside her. She moves her hips in rhythm with his thrusting and feels her own arousal growing fast.
She knows he’s close, and she knows she is too. She knows the feel of him climaxing inside her will take her over the edge and she’ll cum again. She smiles.
“Oh Tay” she hears him whisper.
“Harry…” she sighs quietly, and feels him cum, and just as she knew it would, she feels her own climax break with a gentle shudder.
They lie together as he softens inside her. She wishes she could put her arms around him, hold him, but she cannot. Her hands are cuffed above her head. Still she is happy. Finally he rolls off her, leans across to kiss her softly on the lips, then lies back, his breathing calming. She wonders whether her hands will be released. It doesn’t matter either way. She can hear his breathing slow and knows he’s asleep. She sighs again and closes her eyes and waits contentedly for sleep to take her.