The Event of The Season.

Clea Lamont couldn't be happier with her success at making savage northern girls the latest fashion accessory. Now her sights are set on proving her slave is the best by crashing an old crush's ball and showing everyone else up.

-o-o-o-

Savage let out a weak mew of desperate arousal as Clea’s hands abandoned her rod yet again, leaving her throbbing with need in her seat. The carriage rocked as they passed over the uneven gravel pathway that led to the Marron Estate, making Savage groan uncomfortably. She hated carriages, she hated horses, she hated moving by any means other than her own two feet, it always made her stomach turn unpleasantly.

She winced as Clea pressed a single finger against her head and slowly made her rod twirl beneath it. “Mi… mistress.” She said softly. “I’ve been good all of the journey… please may I cum?”

“We’ve only been on the road a half-hour.” Clea laughed, taking Savage’s cheek in her spare hand and caressing her pale freckled skin. “Besides, if I am to prove that you are better than all the other savages people have procured since your debut, you must have a truly potent load ready for me.”

“But I…” she began before hanging her head. “Yes, mistress.”

“Good Savage.” Clea smiled, leaning back and sighing, checking her hair one last time. She looked gorgeous, slipped into a tight, low-cut blue dress that hugged her bosom and exploded outwards at the hips into a wide, flowing skirt. Her throat was draped with pearls, her ears dappled with small golden rings. If Savage had been able to count high enough, she would have known that the cost of all the jewels and gold and velvet could have bought everything the Bear Clan had owned four times over.

Savage herself was mostly nude, as per usual. Wearing only fur-lined brown-leather cuffs around her forearms, shins and throat. A thick iron ring was squeezing uncomfortably around the base of her twitching cock. Her flowing red locks had been combed, brushed, and then deliberately sculpted into a wild mane that flowed down her back. She sat in silence, perfumed and pulsing with arousal as her owner and lover preened at her reflection.

“How may I please ye, mistress?” She asked, wincing as the carriage made a turn, her knuckles turning white as she clung to the seat she was perched on.

Clea smiled fondly and snapped her mirror shut. “Darling all you have to do is remain your magnificent, obedient self. I have it on good authority that your brothers and sisters aren’t nearly as well trained as you. No doubt they will all disappoint in some way or another, whilst you will be a shining example to all.”

“Of course, mistress.” Savage nodded, groaning as the carriage came to a halt. Clea patted her thigh and smiled.

“Shall we take a moment, love? You look quite green.”

“I… will be fine, mistress.” Savage breathed, steadying herself for a moment.

“My girl.” Clea sighed, moving close and stealing a tender kiss. “Were it not for this ball I would be draining you as we speak. I ache for Savage seed.”

“Mistress ye shouldn’t be so r… reckless.” Savage croaked as Clea’s hands squeezed down on her sack. “Wh… what if ye were to become with child?”

“What if indeed.” Clea purred. “Quite the scandal. At least until they saw my pregnant radiance, and the beauty of the little red-haired children. Perhaps that’s one trend I can look forward to setting in the future.”

Savage didn’t know if she was serious or not, having known her mistress for a year now, she might well have been. In any case, there wasn’t time to think on it further, as Clea slid from the carriage with perfect grace, and tugged Savage along behind her by her leash.

The Marron Manor was ten times the size of the Lamont residence, it’s grounds vast enough to house every tent and stable Savage’s clan had ever owned in their hundred-year history. It glowed in the evening dark like a beacon of civilisation, pillars and archways all meticulously carved, every window lit by a roaring fire. Savage shivered as she was led up the short stairway to the main entrance. The Manor made her feel small and puny, and not in the perversely arousing way her dearest mistress did.

“Come.” Clea’s voice called out sternly as the leash pulled taut. Savage shook herself and obeyed, pattering up to her mistress’ side as they stepped through the doors and into the manor itself.

“Clea darling!” A familiar voice called out, Savage winced as Allian Chamberlain bobbed over, husband in tow. “You look delightful.”

“As do you dear,” Clea purred, taking her by the jaw as she kissed her cheeks and sealing their mouths together. Allian’s husband seethed mutely as Allian laughed, only offering a weak slap to Clea’s pale cheek as a retort. “And you must be Jonathan.” She smiled, turning from her friend to the tall, thin man glaring at her murderously.

“Lady Lamont.” He replied coldly, eying Savage’s nude, stoic form with suspicion and more than a little envy. “I should not be surprised you made an appearance tonight. I know how you like to insert yourself into any event regardless of whether you are welcome or not.”

“Oh hush, Jon.” Allian snapped before smiling and patting his cheek. “Be a dear and fetch us some drinks, I must introduce my mistress.”

Jonathon turned red and turned on his heel, stalking away as Allian pulled a small blonde to her side, pushing her face against her breasts. For a moment Savage wondered if the immense fleshy things would break their confinement in Allian’s extremely low-cut gown, but alas, both pale udders remained fully within her clothes, even as the blonde was forced between them.

“This is Marigold.” Allian purred, a mix of both lust and pride in her voice as the little blonde stared up at Clea and Savage. “Quite the little darling, I assure you. I had her shipped down from the north just the other week from some awful little clan by the coast… oh what was the name? The falcon? No, no it was… hawk?”

“Kestrel.” Marigold growled, tiny fists balling in their restraints with indignant rage.

“That was it.” Allian cooed, kissing her short blonde hair fondly. “Now hush, I said to be silent.”

Marigold scowled to herself, eyes scanning over Savage before she finally caught her eye.

‘Who are you?’ Her eyes said, soft green things, almost too big for her head.

‘A slave like you.’ Savage replied silently, keeping a watchful gaze on her mistress just in case she was needed.

‘How can you stand here and do nothing?!’ Marigold demanded with a furious glare. ‘You are a warrior; these frilly little women cannot control you!’

Savage hung her head for a moment before shrugging. ‘I am happy.’ She smiled, moving close to Clea’s arm and delighting as her mistress casually began to toy with her thick red bush.

Marigold sneered and wriggled defiantly in Allian’s grip, prompting a sharp smack to the rear from the dark-haired woman.

“Stop that.” She hissed before sighing up at Clea. “I don’t know how you trained yours so well darling I really don’t. I’ve tried all I can think and still she’s so… wilful.”

Clea chuckled and wrapped her fingers around Savage’s shaft, making the girl groan huskily. “Technique is key, dear. Not too rough… not too lenient. You must simply threaten what will hurt most if they disobey, and offer their simple heart’s deepest desire if they are good loyal girls, isn’t that right, sweet?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Savage nodded.

Allian sighed. “Easy to say, Clea, harder to do. I’ve offered her every delight I can think of, she simply refuses to behave. And my punishments hardly seem to make a difference, I’ve had her whipped, spanked, humiliated. She will not break.”

“Perhaps you are yet to find the right incentive.” Clea sighed, “I’d be more than happy to assist. But you must excuse me, our dearest Suzanne seems to be having trouble.” Allian sighed and waved her away, grabbing Marigold by the arm and landing another harsh slap to her reddened arse.

“S… stop it!” Suzanne was squeaking, pushing away one of her slaves only for the other to sneak up behind her and grab her chest, long slender fingers sinking into her heaving flesh as Suzanne squeaked and batted her away. “Stop it I say, o… or I shall spank you!”

“Troubles, my dearest kitten?” Clea asked innocently, watching the display with amusement and bringing Savage to her side to hide them from sight. Suzanne looked up at her and groaned with despair, shoving both naked girls deeper into the nook and trying to fill up the opening with her slim frame.

“Oh, Clea they’re awful!” She whined, “They were so well-behaved at home but now they won’t listen! They’ve ruined my dress and… and they’re determined to have their way with me. Here! In the middle of lady Marron’s home!”

“Have you allowed them to enjoy you before, by any chance?” Clea asked, eyeing the twins as they admired her from behind Suzanne’s arm.

“O… Only when they were good.” Suzanne whimpered. “They were obedient when I offered… so I… I indulged them… they were good I swear!”

“You’ve allowed them to take you whenever and wherever they liked, as long as they didn’t make trouble.” Clea sighed gently. “Hardly good discipline. As far as they’re concerned, they are your mistresses, and not the other way around. Or am I mistaken?”

“She sees right through you, she does.” One of the twins growled into Suzanne’s ear, grabbing her breasts again and yanking her dress down to expose them. “Cleverer then you fer shore. Bigger an’ softer too.”

“Clea, help me.” Suzanne pleaded, “You’ve made yours so wonderfully tame!”

“Shut yer trap, whore.” The other twin grinned, hand clapping over Suzanne’s mouth as she snatched up her dress and rammed herself inside Suzanne’s poor unprepared pucker to a stifled shriek. “Shouldn’ ave’ tried takin’ us from our home if ye’ weren’ strong enough to andle’ us.”

Clea sighed and stepped aside, “Savage dearest, please assist Suzie.”

“With pleasure, mistress.” Savage growled, pushing Suzanne aside and shoving the twins back into the nook, grabbing their cocks in her fists and squeezing.

A pair of pained howls rang out from the dark as Clea helped Suzanne up and fixed her dress. Her friend whimpered with humiliation and rubbed her hand between her legs, her rear still aching from the invasion.

“Two?” Clea scolded gently. “You’re far too meek love! Even one would tax you unless they were entirely without spirit!” Suzanne whined and nodding miserably.

“I… I was rash, I see that now.” She mumbled. “I just wanted… I’m tired of being treated like a little girl. I’m tired of being the good one. I hate my husband. I want the kind of sex you have! So passionate and rough and… and I want a slave like Savage, she’s so gorgeous and strong. I wanted someone to ravish me for once. Not treat me like I’m going to break.”

“I completely understand, dear.” Clea sighed, “but you have rather terribly underestimated your authority when it comes to these matters.”

“Oh, my dress is all ruffled.” Suzanne whined. Clea cleared her throat sternly, taking Suzanne by the jaw and squeezing.

“Suzie.” She said, “Take your pets to my home, Annie will see that they are properly secured. I will personally see they are whipped into shape.”

“But Clea…”

“I will invite you over to watch, of course.” Clea interrupted, smiling gently and patting her cheek. “Go, please. I promise once I’ve finished with them, you’ll never have a moment of trouble ever again.” Suzanne pouted before yelping as Savage shoved her slaves out of the alcove onto the floor, both of them whining and cowering down at Clea’s feet. Savage emerged from the dark, brushing her hair behind her shoulder again and scowling down at the girls. Suzanne snatched up their leashes and dragged them away, still trying to tug her skirts back in place from where they had been yanked aside.

Clea gave Savage’s rod an appreciative pat before kissing her cheek. “Wonderful job, sweet. Now, the dance floor is calling, and I have attention to steal.”

“Of course, mistress.” Savage nodded, allowing a small smile at Clea’s excitement as she turned and swept away.

-o-o-o-

Clea smiled charmingly at the scowling woman in her arms, spinning her around on her dainty little feet before snatching her close by the waist. “My my, Lady Marron, I had no idea you were so graceful.”

Lady Marron’s lip curled in an unimpressed snarl as Clea ignored her, hand wandering lower and lower from her hip to her rear.

Ambrose Marron was a tall, thin, dark haired woman, famous for her stern demeanour. She had her hands in a hundred enterprises, had the ear of the queen herself, had a dozen rumoured lovers and, perhaps most enticingly, had absolutely no patience for Clea.

Clea, on the other hand, found Ambrose entirely delightful. She was slim and lean, stern, but not without humour. The cut of her jawline, the subtle curves of her chest, her short-cropped hair like a shock of jet, all were sublime.

“You were not invited, Lamont.” Ambrose growled, soft welsh accent hidden by years of training, but still detectable. Clea smiled and batted her lashes.

“Come now Rosie, I couldn’t miss one of your famous balls.” She cooed, “what kind of friend would I be then, hmm?”

“I have many friends, Lamont.” Ambrose sniffed, dark eyes glancing around the ballroom at her guests. “You are certainly not one of them.”

“Rosie, you wound me.” Clea pouted. “I consider you one of my dearest friends!”

“I consider you an annoyance.”

“Oh Ambrose, why must we fight?”

“Because you refuse to leave me be?”

“How could I stay away, my love? My dearest heart?” Clea cooed, spinning Ambrose around again as the music swelled, catching her hands and squeezing her as their fingers laced. “I ache for you, darling. Why must you torture me so with your cruel rejections?”

“I have no interest in you.” Ambrose smiled coldly, stepping back and matching her curtsy as the dance ended. “Or your perversions. So please, enjoy the ball, it will certainly be the last time you set foot on my property without my guards having you detained.”

“Such promises.” Clea purred, blowing her a kiss as she turned away. She smiled to herself, pleased with the evening’s first round of teasing, already planning how to needle her paramour next. A low sigh escaped her as she came to her place, where Savage was waiting in her usual stoic glory. “She is magnificent.”

“Aye, mistress.” Savage nodded tiredly. “Lady Marron certainly has a certain appeal.”

“Oh sweet, are we jealous?” Clea cooed, reaching up to toy with her cheek. “Aren’t you who I take to bed each night?”

Savage sighed and nodded mutely, her cheeks flushing as Clea’s hand stroked over her length. Clea smiled up at her, kissing a rosy nipple before turning her gaze back to Ambrose.

“I must have her, my Savage.” She breathed, mostly to herself. “I simply must. Those eyes… that scowl… my heart is all a flutter.”

Savage opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted as something smashed over her head, sending blood and shards of glass tumbling over her onto the floor. She managed a dull grunt and toppled to her knees, steadying herself with an arm as she touched her head in confusion. Clea let out a sharp shriek of dismay, and suddenly she was on her side, something hot and heavy pressing down on her as she was smacked in the face.

“You! Ah knew ah recognised you!”

Savage blinked in confusion and brought her hands up to protect her face, forcing herself up and shoving her attacker aside.

The girl was maybe half her size, but powerfully muscled and already at an advantage. Her dirty blonde hair was braided neatly, keeping her face clear and making the expression of hate on it impossible to mistake.

Savage growled and stood, balling her fists and swiping the blood out of her face.

“I do not know who ye think ye are, but yer embarrassing yeself and ye mistress.”

“My mistress can hang.” The girl spat, leaping at her only to be swatted aside. “Takin your head’ll be sweeter than any punishment can spoil.”

She darted forwards again, managing to land a strike on her gut that knocked Savage back a pace. “Your clan took everythin’ from me!” She roared; “an’ you don’t even remember!?”

“Stop this ye daft child!” Savage spat, slapping her aside and snarling as she tumbled against Clea, knocking her mistress to the floor.

“Ah’ll bash your brains in.” The girl hissed, preparing to leap at her again. “For ma father, an’ for ma brothers, an’ for ma clan.”

She pounced, and Savage caught her by the throat, lifting her high and squeezing her until she was spluttering and squirming rather than trying to fight back.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Ambrose snapped, appearing beside Savage and smacking her sharply in the belly.

“This whelp attacked me, milady.” Savage said, fighting to keep her tone deferential. “And knocked my mistress to the ground. How should I deal with her?”

“Annika, is this true?” Ambrose snarled, turning her ire to the squirming, red-faced blonde.

“Clan… murderers…” Annika spluttered, “My family…”

“Whatever your life was before you came to be mine means nothing!”

“ffffuck… you.”

“Who is your mistress?” Ambrose demanded, turning to look up at Savage.

“That would be me, Lady Marron.” Clea sniffed, collecting herself and brushing off her gown as she stood. “I must profoundly apologise for this business. My dear Savage is a loyal girl, but she lacks restraint.”

Ambrose’s lip curled uncomfortably at Clea before she sighed, clearly more upset that she was forced to take her side than she was that one of her slaves had caused such a scene. “No… Lady Lamont… it is I who must apologise for the…” she scowled and shook her head. “For the insult, and for any distress my slave may have caused. Rest assured she will be severely disciplined.”

“It’s quite alright, Lady Marron.” Clea smiled, surprisingly not choosing to push the situation any further. “I trust your punishment will be more than satisfactory. I regret I will have to attend to my girl’s injury, but please don’t allow this to put a sour note on your marvellous party.”

“I… will not.” Ambrose frowned quietly as Clea gently took Savage’s leash and tugged her away.

-o-o-o-

“Mistress, I’m sorry, I know how much ye were looking forward to the ball.” Savage sighed as she was pulled into the carriage. There was a lot of rustling fabric and she frowned, glancing up only to be tackled for the second time that evening.

Clea had practically torn her way out of her gown and set herself the task of pushing her tongue as deep down Savage’s throat. Her hands clawed at Savage’s hips, pulling her close even as they knocked roughly at the carriage wall. Savage mewled into her mistress’ mouth, arms winding about her waist adoringly.

“You’re not too hurt, dear?” Clea breathed, moving back enough so that she had room to hop up into Savage’s arms, the Amazonian redhead resting her just above her throbbing cock.

“Just a scratch, Mistress.” Savage croaked, breathless from the kiss.

“Good girl.” Clea rasped, voice dripping with need. “Now fuck me.”

“Mistress…”

“Take me this instant you gorgeous beast or I’ll not have you in my bed for the rest of the year.”

Savage sighed and nuzzled against Clea’s cheek, gripping her tight and bringing her to the tip of her rod. She slipped inside easily with a low, hungry groan. Clea’s nails cut shallow paths down her back as she began to thrust, growling and pushing her back against the other wall of the carriage.

Clea moaned with lust and sank her teeth into Savage’s shoulder, eliciting a pained hiss and a sharp smack to her quivering rear.

“Don’t do that.” Savage growled, hand planting itself just to the side of Clea’s pale blonde head like a tree trunk. Clea giggled softly, kissing the pink marks her teeth had left in her pale skin.

“Are you giving, ah! Me… orders, my dearest S… Savage?” Clea groaned, panting for breath as she was pounded.

“It hurt.” Savage replied, yanking Clea’s hips down to meet her, thick red curls tickling the sopping mess of Clea’s opening. “Mistress.” Clea laughed breathlessly and cupped Savage’s cheeks, pulling her into a deep, wet kiss. Tongues and lips met and mashed against one another above as cock and cunt slipped together below, both equally as wet and messy.

Clea’s hair tangled and stuck to her forehead, glued by sweat and stray spit, even as Savage dragged her tongue over her pale mistress’ cheek. Fingers dug into flesh, caressing shoulders and fat heavy breasts, supporting Clea’s body by cupping her rear. Pale legs hooked tighter and tighter behind Savage’s hips, trembling with overwhelmed glee as Savage’s cock pushed as far as it would go into her sex.

“S… savage.” Clea croaked. “More.”

“I’m close… mistress.” Savage mewed in reply.

Clea squeaked with need and braced herself against Savage’s broad shoulders as the girl’s thrusts became more and more urgent, her cock spreading her wider than she’d ever felt before. Savage’s hand found her scalp, fingers grabbing her pale silver hair tightly and pulling her into another kiss.

Savage erupted inside Clea’s sodden cunt, spraying her seed deep into her depths. The heat was incredible, throbbing deep inside Clea’s cunt as Savage cradled her, panting like a dog. She couldn’t feel her legs, but honestly didn’t much care. The most wonderful glow was washing over her as she sat, nestled on her Savage’s cock, the girl’s spunk beginning to ooze from her petals.

“Sh… shouldn’t have done that.” Savage breathed, hand petting Clea’s messy silver hair. “If… if you get pregnant.”

“Savage…” Clea cooed, reaching out and putting her finger to the redhead’s lips. “N… no more… talk.”

Savage pursed her lips and gently shuffled closer, nuzzling her head down against Clea’s shoulder. Clea sighed, utterly content, and fell asleep with her dearest slave still buried deep in her twat.