"The House Slave" (closed)

As she gently slumbered Ilsa could hear the birdsong outside the window and smell the sweet scent of flowers in the as beside the bed. It was blissful and she didn't want to wait, not yet, especially not when she could felt he warmth pressing up around her slender body in a way she hadn't for what seemed like months. Part of her screamed that something was wrong, that the pressure of the breasts pressing against her back shouldn't be something she should be enjoying, but in that moment it didn't matter, in that moment she felt loved.

She heard the soft creaking of the floorboards as Bora carefully made her way over to the bed, not wanting to disturb her Mistress's slumber until she absolutely had to, and the slight scraping as the tea cup was placed on the nightstand, beside the forgotten bowl of now tepid water.

Listening to her Mistress speak Ilsa kept her eyes closed, enjoying the feel of their bodies pressing together as long as she could. It wasn't until Naomi's hand moved away from her breasts that Ilsa even realised it had been there, but the moment it was gone she yearned for the touch once more. As Naomi started to gently tug her other arm from beneath her head Ilsa realised the moment had passed and slowly opened her eyes.

She kept her gaze away from the beautiful woman whose bed she shared, shifting herself away as subtly as she could as if not to draw attention to the fact that she was there at all. Laying under the warm, soft sheets, her naked back to her Mistress, Ilsa simply waited, unmoving and silent, for her Mistress's next command.

(OOC: I edited the last two paragraphs of my last post to reflect Ilsa not looking up to Naomi.)

I should hate this woman, Naomi thought as she continued to study Ilsa from above and behind. She spread her legs for my husband ... whore. Why am I laying with her ... not beating her?

Of course, Naomi was ignoring the simple fact that it had been Lucius who had made the call about fucking Ilsa. That was a man's place, of course. He could have any slave he wanted. That was just the way it was. But a married man was to keep such indiscretions to himself, not bring them home with him!

And yet, Naomi continued to look down on the young slave girl and ... and ...

There was no way to ignore it: Naomi was yearning for the girl's touch. It went far beyond having Ilsa's warm body comfort her through her fever. This wasn't about staying alive, as the fever often killed. This was about lust! Plain and simple.

Naomi reached her free hand to the blankets that Bora had slid over them the previous evening and then, when she brought in the herbal brew, tucked up over their shoulders again. Gently, she pulled them down, slowly exposing the nude slave ... shoulder ... upper arm ... breasts. Naomi ceased the movement and, with a sly smile, watched as the girl's nipples hardened at the sudden exposure to the room's cooler air...

(OOC: Going to stop there just in case Ilsa reacts. She doesn't have to. She can continue to pretend to be asleep.)

As she lay there, her naked body slowly being exposes to the world, Ilsa could feel herself beginning to tremble. There was no reason for it, the room was warm and shutters bolted to keep any wind out, she wasn't fearful or scared that Naomi would hurt her, something that came as a surprise in and of itself after the number of times the woman had attacked her. Instead she simply shook, as though her body wanted to move but was somehow fighting itself as she simply lay there.

Suddenly Ilsa felt her arm lifting, and gazed down in horror as her hand moved up over her chest and gently came to rest beneath her Mistress's breast. She was certain she hadn't wanted to do that, especially not without being ordered to first, but Naomi's soft skin felt so good against her hand that Ilsa couldn't pull it away.

As she gently cupped it in her hand, Ilsa's thumb slowly began to move up, stroking in small circles over the warm, yielding skin, before finally brushing against Naomi's nipple. Raising her head Ilsa finally looked into her Mistress's eyes, half expecting to see a furious gaze staring back at her, but if anything Naomi seemed more surprised than anything.

Naomi was trying to control her lust for Ilsa, but it wasn't working. Sometime between when the slave reached a hand up to cup and caress one of her breasts, then roll to look into her eyes, Naomi realized that her own nipples had hardened and her breathing was deepening in excitement.

And just as Ilsa had unconsciously reached to her mistress, Naomi found herself doing the same. She hadn't even realized that her hand had come to rest upon Ilsa's bare hip until she was sliding it from there up and around to the girl's belly ... then her ribs ... then her breast. She mirrored the slave's now very pleasurable touch with her own, groping the firm young tit gently, pinching the hardened nipple between the fat portions of two fingers.

This is so wrong, Naomi suddenly found her mind telling her. It wasn't because Ilsa was a woman or a slave. Naomi knew plenty of Merchant Class wives who partook of the sexual experience of their female slaves. It was because Ilsa had previously pleasured Lucius, her husband. I shouldn't want this whore.

And yet, as she urged Ilsa to her back below her, Naomi leaned in slowly with the intent of kissing her.

At first Ilsa feared she had caught her Mistress's fever as she felt the woman's hand touching her hip, then sliding up her body to her breasts. He r entire body felt both warmed and cooled at the same time and she was shivering uncontrollably. Something inside her told her this was no ailment she was experiencing though, instead her yearning for Naomi was something far deeper.

Looking up she saw her Mistress leaning over her, her mouth pursed, ready to kiss the slave girl in her bed. At first Ilsa panicked, her body urging her to run back to the kitchens and hide behind the routine of her duties and pretend nothing had happened between them, but another part, a far more powerful and base part of herself forced her to stay.

Tilting her head back Ilsa pushed her own mouth forwards, ready to accept her Mistress's kiss as she closed her eyes.

The kiss was soft, the softest kiss Naomi had ever experienced. She was hesitant, tentative. That was probably the reason why she pressed her mouth to Ilsa's soft gently ... parted with a light, almost imperceptible smack ... then pressed their lips together once again.

There was something magical about this ... kissing another woman. She wasn't even thinking of Ilsa as a slave at this moment, but only as another woman. Naomi pulled her face back again, focusing her gaze of her hazel brown orbs on Ilsa's similarly colored eyes. There was a great deal of emotion in those eyes, but Naomi was unsure whether it was the same lust she was feeling, or the same fear she was somehow feeling at the same time.

Naomi gently squeezed the breast in her hand, then--

Suddenly, fear won out. She pulled her hand back from Ilsa's chest, then rolled slowly away and stood with her bare back side to the girl. After a moment of trying to determine what was wrong -- she was enjoying the tender yet erotic moment immensely -- she said firmly, "You will speak of this to no one ... less you be beaten."

She half glanced back over her shoulder, finishing, "You may leave."

For a moment Ilsa was unsure what to do. The woman had clearly enjoyed what had been happening to her, but at the last moment had turned away, ordering her to leave. Part of her, the part which had been born in the cages as Naomi's husband had abused her and beat her down, told her to obey her Mistress's orders, but the part of her whose heart was racing and crotch was on fire wanted to stay.

Rolling up onto her knees Ilsa bent over the bed and reached out with both hands. Taking hold of Naomi's waist she pressed her face between the woman's buttocks, letting her tongue slide up between them for a moment to taste the juices dribbling down Naomi's smooth, unblemished skin.

As the moment passed Ilsa quickly turned away again, leaping off the bed and scurrying out of the room. AS she made her way down the stairs, her naked body shivering with both the cold and the excitement of her little act of rebellion, Ilsa couldn't help but lick her lips with a smile.

Heading to her bunk Ilsa cleaned herself up, washing her body down with water form the standing jug, before tying her clothes around her body. Part of her couldn't believe what had happened, both the night before and this morning, and as she headed for the kitchen, dropping into her usual routine of labours and chores, the whole experience began to take on a distant, dream-like quality.

(OOC: This is a second consecutive post by me, fyi.)

The next six days were some of the most difficult in Naomi's life. She yearned to be next to the beautiful young slave, but such female-female interactions were only the privilege of the Nobility, not the Merchant Class. As a married commoner, Naomi would have had to have her husband's blessing for such an affair, despite the fact that Ilsa was a slave.

That didn't keep her from wanting the young woman next to her, in her bed. She was tempted each night to order Ilsa to her bed to keep her warm only, but she knew that that story would not remain as is. The other slaves -- there were now six, including Bora, Ilsa, another pair of older women, a young man, and a young boy -- would know what was happening between the two women and would talk. And Naomi would face scrutiny from her Merchant Class friends and possibly even questions from the Magistrate, who would know that the money Lucius had paid for Ilsa had been only enough to claim her as a labor slave, not a sex slave.

So Naomi maintained her distance from the erotic slave, instructing Bora to take Ilsa to the butcher shop Lucius and Bora owned just across the street from their home and teach her the work there. And each night, when the girl came home, Bora's instructions were to wash and go to sleep to be ready for the next day's tasks.

Naomi spent most of those six days either away or upstairs. Whereas Ilsa had previously been allowed to come upstairs and serve her Mistress, Bora's new instructions for her were that she was restricted to the lower floor. Occasionally, Naomi would look down upon the common area simply to watch -- ogle -- the girl as she walked about.

Of course, for security reasons, Naomi could also use the peep holes to look down into the slave's quarters from her second floor living quarters. And on occasion, she'd waited there for Bora to order Ilsa to the hot metal tub full of water to bath her delicious body. Sitting in the dark and looking down upon the tub, Naomi would find herself pulling her simple house dress up to her waist so that she could touch herself in ways she wished Ilsa was allowed.



On the morning of the seventh day following Naomi's fever, a new face arrived at the House of Lucius Verena. Bora had had Ilsa dress proper for guests, and -- for the first time in over a week -- Naomi came down to the first floor while the Germanic slave was present. She walked over to welcome the guest -- a slightly older women in a beautiful dress with jewels fit for a noble woman -- and greeted her with kisses on the cheek and light banter about this and that before turning to Ilsa and saying simply, "This is the girl."

The woman, whose name had been dropped during conversation as Brita (pronounced BREE-tah) looked Ilsa over but good, even walking about her twice as she commented on the girl's wonderful figure. When she was done inspecting the property, Brita returned to stand next to Naomi, her back to Ilsa, and whisper, "I see your interest."

Whether the slave heard the comment or had any idea as to its meaning, Naomi didn't know. But as the woman bid her farewell and headed out the door, chatting with a female slave who had arrived as part of her six member entourage, Noami went up close to Ilsa -- the closest she'd been to her since the day they'd almost become lovers -- and said, "You will go with this woman, Ilsa. She needs your assistance."

Naomi took the slave's upper arms in her hand, then leaned in and kiss her cheek. While she was that close, she whispered, "You will be safe ... and you will be well treated ... so long as you do as you are told. I will see you in a day ... maybe two."

Naomi pulled back and shared a friendly smile, but her eyes were beginning to glaze over so she turned away and headed back to the stairs.

"Come, girl," Brita hollered from the door. "We have no time to waste."



They had crossed half the city to get to their destination, through both beautiful parks of statuary, sculpted shrubs, and flower gardens living out the last days of autumn and dirty, dangerous alleys, for which the entourage of six included 4 large, armed men. When they arrived, the house could only be described as complex. It was four stories tall and surrounded by three story structures, which were businesses on the first floors and living quarters above. The streets were crowded with people from every income level, beggars to nobles, moving about with the energy of an ant hill.

Brita led Ilsa to and through the main entrance, which was guarded by four additional men. Men of money were coming in and out, and as each made eye contact with Brita, they paid their respects to her as if she were a noble woman but didn't use the terminology of such rank.

It soon became obvious that the house was a brothel for the Merchant Class. There were no high class noble men present but there were no lowly peasants or soldiers either. It was clean and neat, except for the smell of wine and slut lamps burning from hundreds of holders all about the walls and ceilings.

And the play was loud! Musicians in the corner were barely audible over the laughter and singing -- at least three separate and simultaneous songs from different directions -- that came from customers and whores alike. The men and women alike were in varying stages of dress or undress; some of those in attendance were not at the moment engaged in sexual activity while others were very much getting it on, in pairs, threesomes, and small groups; but all were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Brita continued onward, politely responding to the greetings of customers, and led Ilsa upstairs, down a hall, through another guarded door to yet another ascending staircase to yet another guarded door, and finally into a room that appeared as if it were a noble's bed chamber. There was a magnificent, canopied bed, a small stone hot tub large enough for four people -- steam wafting from it warm surface -- a sitting area with couches, chairs, and floor bags filled with dried beans, and a padded massage table with an accompanying table filled with oiled, creams, and other various luxuries.

As a beautiful woman with her hair decolored to the daylight stepped up to greet Brita with a slave's greeting, the mistress of the house turned to address Ilsa the first time since leaving Naomi's house almost an hour earlier.

"This is Aleeza," Brita began. "She will train you."

With that, Brita simply turned and departed, believing that Ilsa had already been thoroughly informed of her reason for being here. Aleeza stepped closer and smiled politely to Ilsa, saying, "Welcome. Come..."

The blond slave backed up toward a second, smaller tub just large and deep enough for a person to sit within and be covered to the neck. Aleeza continued, "...take off your clothes, and we will wash you."

As she heard that she was to be sent away Ilsa felt her heart plummet. Had she done something wrong in her new duties, had she proven herself unworthy of the household in some way? She feared a return to the slave pits, to being used as property as her Mistress's husband had done for all those weeks, but as her Mistress leant close and promised this was only a temporary arrangement, Ilsa calmed herself.

The woman she was accompanying seemed far more comfortable in the city streets than any other she had met. As they made their way through the crowds she greeted people of all classes equally, apart from the beggars and paupers of course, who Ilsa had come to look down on herself after her time working in Naomi's house. Those reprobated had proven themselves untrustworthy or inadequate to hold a household position, and even to hold a position in the mines and labour camps, and so deserved to be looked down upon as they sat in the gutters.

The palace she was led to, for a palace it must've been to have such an impressive façade, was filled with gaiety and joy. As she stepped through the doorway she was reminded of her home in the woods on Feast Days, where the tribes would gather together to share stories of their adventures, and share the seed of the young men with the daughters of the tribe so as to breed strong warriors for the future. But as she watched the crowds Ilsa was shocked to see one girl bent over a table, a cock impaling her rectum as she clawed at the table top, panting like a dog in heat.

A moment later she was led away from the confusing sight and into the maze of passageways which seemed to ruin for miles inside the building. A veritable warren of hidden paths leading from one chamber to the next, in each groups of people enjoying the fruits of the wide and expansive Empire. Ilsa lingered in one room as long as she dared as she watched a girl with skin as black as tar laying with one who was milk white while surrounded by a crowd of admiring spectators. As Brita tugged her arm, pulling her out into yet another corridor, Ilsa heard the two women's cries of orgasmic pleasure blending together and felt herself warm at the thought of performing such an act herself.

Following her guide meekly Ilsa found herself in a lavishly appointed bedchamber, her eyes gazing in wonder at the splendour before Brita pulled her gaze back to a pale beauty whose pale skin and white hair reminder her enough of the girl from the other room that Ilsa felt herself blushing at the remembrance of voices raised in orgasmic joy.

As she was introduced Ilsa curtsied politely, crossing her hands in front of her and lowering her gaze. When she was ordered to remove her clothes there was no hesitation, her hands quickly and neatly unfastening the layers, folding them and placing them on the nearby table before standing ready for inspection.

A cool breeze blew over her as she stood there, waiting to see what the beautiful young woman would do to her next, what she may order Ilsa to do to herself, and Ilsa felt her body responding to the wandering fantasies which drifted through her mind. Memories of the touch of Naomi's skin, the taste of her on her lips, left Ilsa dazed, and she knew the girl would be able to see her body's arousal.

(OOC: Only have a minute.)

Aleeza performed a slow, ogling walk-around of Ilsa, her smile revealing her delight with the young woman's features. "No wonder your lady has sent you to me."

Aleeza saw the expression on Ilsa's face and was confused. "You know why you are here, yes?"

She listened to Ilsa's reply, then laid it out before the Germanic slave. "Your lady ... and I do not care to learn her name for I am not to ... has sent you here to be trained ... to be her lover."

She gave Ilsa a moment to react, then continued, "You will reside here in this house until your lady decides differently. You will work the scullery, or where ever my Mistress wishes you to labor. This is to compensate the house for your education and your upkeep ... food and a bed and such."

Aleeza stepped closer and looked hard into Ilsa's eyes. "Your lady will visit when she feels the need. You will lay with NO one other than your lady ... or mine, as sometimes is asked by her. To do so will lead to punishments I will not even begin to describe. Do you understand?"

It took a moment for Ilsa to process what she'd just heard. She was to be Naomi's lover? Would this then mean her position in the household would improve also. She had seen some of the Mistress's friend visiting accompanied by their 'companions' and such women were often afforded the respect of a lady themselves, if only by the staff of the household.

Looking down at the pale beauty, the echoing cries of the other woman she'd seen still ringing in her head, Ilsa looked up with a smile. "If I am to be trained, does that not mean I will lay with you also?" She asked with a sultry tone.

This girl was her equal, as she understood it, the under servant of the house, and even if she were to be in charge of Ilsa while she was here at the brothel that still allowed for a little more familiarity between them than would be expected between Mistress and servant.

"If I am to be trained, does that not mean I will lay with you also?"

Click to expand...

"Yes," Aleeza said simply, turning away and crossing to the tub. "Come, let's bathe you."



The bath was luxurious. Hot, steaming water, not just luke warm as slaves more often than not enjoyed. Scented soap and shampoo. Oil in the water to soften Ilsa's skin. And, of course, Aleeza using a wooden toothed comb to work the girl's hair and a soft, cotton rag to clean every inch of the other slave's body, including between her thighs.

Once Ilsa was thorough cleaned on the outside, it was time to refresh her inside. Aleeza patted the flat rim of the tub, told the girl to sit there with her thighs parted, and gestured to a second, older female slave who was filling a device with a scented cleanser.

"You've probably never done this," Aleeza said with a matter of fact tone. "But your lady will be pleased that you have..."

It was the first time since the woods that Ilsa had felt truly free, even though a voice in the back of her mind kept reminding her that she wasn't. The only reason she was here was due to a whim of her Mistress, the woman who owned her body and mind, and who, it seemed, had now set her sights on Ilsa's soul. The problem was Ilsa was slowly coming to the point where her soul would be on the market.

As Aleeza slowly worked the cloth down her body Ilsa lay back against her, luxuriating in the warmth of the pool. She could feel her muscles relaxing one-by-one, leaving her almost incapable of moving as the pale skinned beauty reached her hands down between her thighs.

Afterwards Ilsa wasn't even sure if the girl had meant it to happen, her fingers stroking so gently over Ilsa's crotch at first, before sweeping around and sliding up into her. The oils and warm water made the entry seem all too easy, Aleeza's fingers disappearing deep enough into Ilsa's body to ensure she felt them as they wormed around inside her. Ilsa gasped her own hand reaching down into the water to grab Aleeza's but by the time she'd started to move the moment was already passed.

Sitting up on the rim of the tub Ilsa smiled down at Aleeza, happily accepting the girl's dominion over her as she lifted the cleanser out of the older woman's hands and held it up for Ilsa to admire. She wasn't quite sure what the object was, but if it was something to help her perform better then she was willing to accept it any way Aleeza desired.

The object Aleeza held was called a refresher by the women of the brothel. It was phallic in shape, six inches in length but barely larger in diameter than a woman's index finger. It was a hollow tube made of blown glass, heavy and solid, with a bulb at one end made of a goat's bladder.

The blonde slave dipped a hand into a bowl of thick, coconut oil lubricant imported from lands she'd of which she'd never even heard, then ran her hand up and down the glass tube as she explained, "This will make you smell and taste good."

She maneuvered the end of the refresher with the opening to Ilsa's opening, played it between her labia until she knew the girl's muscles would allow penetration, and -- watching Ilsa's reactions for pain and pleasure both -- slowly pushed the tube up into her...

Biting her lip Ilsa felt her flower unfurl around the tube as Aleeza first rubbed it over her and then pushed it into her opening. At once it felt familiar and oh so alien. Firm and unrelenting instead of throbbing and pliant, but still the familiar shape of the men she'd lain with in the past.

And then there was Aleeza, the pale beauty who gazed so intently on Ilsa's cunt, watching it fill as she worked the tube deeper into Ilsa. She could feel her juices flowing in a way they'd never done for a man as the pale girl paid her that much attention, and part of her wanted to reach out and pull her smiling face onto her clit, to rub her mouth against it until she sucked it between those beautiful lips.

Already Ilsa felt as though she were on the verge of orgasm, and all the girl had done was slide a glass tube into her, while smiling up at her sweetly. If their lessons truly were going to teach her how to be a better lover for her Mistress, Ilsa couldn't ait to see what the young girl had in store for her next.

Once the refresher was in place, Aleeza carefully squeezed the bladder bulb at the end. The warm, thick cleanser inside began filling Ilsa's interior. Again, the blonde slave looked up from her work to witness the Germanic slave's reaction to the douche flooding her. She smiled at the reaction, asking, "Wonderful, isn't it?"

Aleeza continued to squeeze the bladder, even after its contents began spilling out of Ilsa, down the tube onto her own hands and into the tub of sudsy water in which she was standing. When the entirety of the cleanser had been discharged, the brothel trainer gently pulled the tube out and set it aside. She reached a hand to Ilsa's pussy and gently scrubbed the escaping fluid -- cleanser and natural lubricant both -- all about Ilsa's labia and clit.

The way she smirked as she did this left little doubt about whether her intent was strictly aimed at providing hygiene...

The cold came as a surprise to Ilsa after the warmth of the bath, the chilly fluid spreading inside her, causing her pussy to quickly retract around the glass shaft. She shivered for a moment as the liquid slowly began to warm inside her, pressing her walls wider as Aleeza squeezed the bulb tighter with a steady, even pressure.

Ilsa felt the liquid oozing out of her around the implement and couldn't do anything to stop it, her cunt felt strange in a way she'd never experienced before as the thin, water-like substance sloshed around inside. When Aleeza pulled the glass prick out of her Ilsa quickly clamped down with her muscles, but not before some of the juice squirted out onto the girl's arms and chest. Aleeza simply smiled up at her and reaching out and began to stroke her.

The girl's touch was precise and Ilsa could tell she was very experienced with a woman's tenderness, her fingers stroking in just the right places to make it as difficult as possibly for Ilsa to hold the liquid inside as her muscles screamed to open herself up to the girl.

As they strayed higher, grazing over her clit, Ilsa lost control and with a loud cry let her pussy fall open, spilling the mixture of the cleanser and her own fluids out over the beautiful pale girl's face and chest.

Aleeza laughed aloud, reaching a hand up to her chin and lips to wipe away the discharged cleanser. It was little more than a coconut concoction with a variety of herbal ingredients, so -- as she stared into Ilsa's surprise and pleasure filled eyes -- she took her finger into her mouth and cleaned off the digit. She repeated this gesture with more of the refresher she wiped from her neck and breast.

"Watch what I do ... and remember," Aleeza said, lowering herself in the bath until she was on her knees directly between Ilsa's. "Your training begins now."

The blond moved further into the triangle of Ilsa's groin, wrapped her arms under the back of the German's thighs, grasped and tightly gripped the firm buttocks, and pressed her mouth against Ilsa's pussy. She lapped at the fluids still leaking out of the girl, toying with Ilsa's inner and outer labia both, watching and listening to the girl's reactions all the while...

It was difficult for Ilsa to follow the girl's command, her eyes wanted to close and let her revel in the pleasure her talented tongue was bringing, but Ilsa kept them open, kept watching as Aleeza worked her tongue up and over her swollen, throbbing lips, carefully teasing every fold with the tip before pressing the full length of her tongue against Ilsa's clit.

Her second orgasm came suddenly, driving through the girl's body as she reached down and tugged at Aleeza's hair, trying to pull her away as the pleasure rippled through her, wave after wave. It was too much, too overpowering and as Ilsa felt her hips bucking she also felt Aleeza's hands holding her backside tightly, preventing her from slipping away or pulling back from the pleasure.

Aleeza didn't do to women what she was doing to Ilsa simply out of duty, as training. She did it because she thoroughly enjoyed watching the women under her control writhe in ecstasy, particularly those like Ilsa who had never before experienced the knowledge and expertise she could offer here on her knees.

The German's body continued to tremble and twitch and her throat emit cries of pleasure as Aleeza -- refusing to release her hold on Ilsa's ass -- persisted in fondling her clit with her tongue. She drove the young woman to a third orgasm before Ilsa's desperate tugging at her scalp became too much to ignore. She pulled her mouth back, but kept her gaze upon the girl's rection to the euphoria flooding her yet again.

Aleeza pulled at the slave's buttocks, bringing Ilsa into her awaiting lap in the warm water. As she moved to the opposite side of the tub, clutching the still panting Northerner tight to her bosom and kissing her breasts, collar bone, neck ... she looked to the house slave standing near the hearth and gave her a recognized nod. As the old woman began the first of several trips with wooden buckets of warm water, Alleza whispered to Ilsa, "Did you learn anything?"

For the first few minutes after her 'torture' had ended Ilsa could only lay back in the warmth of the water, panting heavily as her body slowly came back under her control. Finally she turned her head towards Aleeza with a broad smile on her face. "I think I may have learnt a trick or two," She replied to her tutor's question before letting herself sink under the water.

Moving quickly she swam up between the pale girl's legs, her hands sliding under her buttocks and pulling them forwards as Ilsa pressed her mouth against the girl's crotch. She knew her own skills wouldn't be able to compare with the girl's own, but she had to at least try to return the favour she'd been granted.

Slowly at first she lapped her tongue up and around Aleeza's lips, uncertain if the moisture she felt was just from the water around them or if the slave girl had also become aroused by their little training session. As she gained confidence Ilsa began to work her tongue harder, pressing it between the girl's folds as she spread her wider, letting Ilsa worm herself deeper.

She stayed there as long as she could, her mouth tenderly kissing and sucking at Aleeza's cunt before finally taking her swollen clit between her teeth and biting it hard for a moment before pulling away. As Ilsa burst from the water she inhaled deeply, her body starving for air after having held her breath for so long.

Aleeza released a bit of a screech at the unexpected bite upon her sensitive clit, and as Ilsa popped to the surface, she laughed playfully. She dropped into the water with the German, clutching her body close to her and kissing her full on the lips before saying about the submerged pussy licking, "That ... was interesting."

She pulled away, grasping Ilsa's hand and she headed out of the tub and toward a big bed, calling at the older house slave to bring towels. After a hasty drying of their bodies, Aleeza commanded the third woman away, then pulled Ilsa toward her as she sat on the edge of the bed, her knees open.

"What I did to you in the bath," she began, leaning back to put her weight on her elbows. "Show me what you learned."

It was a strange sensation having another woman drying her body for her and for a moment Ilsa wondered if this was what it felt like to be a Mistress, a woman who could command others with such authority. Almost as son as she'd started the old woman was already heading away, leaving Ilsa standing over Aleeza as the fair young woman sat on the bed before her.

"What I did to you in the bath. Show me what you learned." Her tutor said as she lay back on the bed. With a smile Ilsa stepped a little close, standing between the beautiful woman's legs as she let her hands rest on her graceful shoulders.

"I think it went something like this," She said as she slowly dropped to her knees between Aleeza's thighs, letting her fingers slowly dance down the girl's arms. For a moment Ilsa held Aleeza's hands in hers before moving down to the girl's knees. Slowly sliding up her legs Ilsa wrapped her arms back around Aleeza's thighs, her hands cradling the smooth buttocks in their palms as Ilsa lowered her face down towards Aleeza's crotch.

Stopping just short of the girl's groin Ilsa held her position for a moment, looking up into the girl's eyes just long enough to make Aleeza squirm with impatience before darting forwards and running her tongue up between her labia with one single, long stroke, letting the tip slip between the folds as she tasted the hint of nectar already beginning to seep from inside. Before Aleeza could respond Ilsa repeated the act, this time pressing her tongue a little deeper as she pulled Aleeza's buttocks up off the bed, bringing her lips up to meet her own as she began to lap with fast powerful strokes before stopping and tenderly massaging with slower, more deliberate licks, using the full strength of her muscular tongue to ensure every inch of Aleeza was carefully tended to.

"Good... oh, yes ... good..."

Aleeza coached the woman licking at her pussy with encouragement and occasionally gently guiding hands. But there wasn't much instruction needed: Ilsa was a natural down between another woman's thighs, so much so that as the blond slave's body was becoming more and more aroused her mind was becoming more and more surprised that the brunette slave hadn't spent more time as such.

"Listen..." she whispered. "Feel..."

Aleeza began rocking her hips in time with Ilsa's wonderfully working tongue as she felt her orgasm approaching. "Listen to your mistress ... feel her body ... you ... you know ... you know when you are ... doing ... doing good ... by her."

The pleasure welling within Aleeza was making it impossible to teach anymore, so she laid her upper body's weight back upon her elbows and just waited. It was a short wait. The growing cries suddenly became a loud scream of ecstasy as Aleeza's head fell to the bed, her back arched toward the sky, and her fingers entangled themselves within Ilsa's curls, fearful that she would pull away to soon.

One of the reasons the blond enjoyed her job so much was watching the women she trained explode with their first lesbian orgasms. But the true enjoyment came when she herself enjoyed the fruits of her training. And in contrast to some women, whose orgasms arrived slowly and disappeared in a flash, Aleeza's climaxes could go on and on for as long as her trainee continued licking and sucking and fondling her...

With her palms still cupping Aleeza's ass Ilsa slid her thumbs around under her tutor's thighs, bringing them into place either side of the woman's heaving crotch. With a little pressure the German managed to steady Aleeza's motions as her hips thrust up against her, holding the girl's cunt in place as Ilsa worked her tongue up and over her lips with rapid, deliberate strokes, each ending with a flick at the tutor's throbbing clit.

She wasn't sure how long she should keep going for, but knew that when the time came Aleeza would give her some sign. Until then Ilsa simply kept going, working her tongue around, over and into the woman's core as the pale beauty panted and moaned with pleasure. Ilsa hoped it was a good sign that Aleeza was no longer talking to her, instead just panting and gasping, but part of her worried that perhaps she wasn't providing the woman with the push she needed to go all the way.

Moving her thumbs down Ilsa positioned them between Aleeza's pulsing labia, wriggling them up and down for a moment as she worked them into position before, with a single thrust with both wrists, slipped them both up into Aleeza's pussy. Ilsa could feel her tutor's muscles closing around her thumbs as she pressed them to their root up into her, juices dribbling down her arms and falling onto the bedsheets below as her tongue continued its unending assault of the woman's eager bud.