Chapter 35: Raping a Priest

In the car back to the Club Alicia had been quiet and thoughtful, cuddling in Angique's embrace, kissing and calling her Mistress. After making sweet and lazy love, she slept soundly, and the next morning found her as playful as quicksilver; she acted sweet, dancing on her feet and giggling all the time. A weight seemed to have been lifted from her shoulders.

During the next days and nights, Angique never pushed her for training purposes or even reminded her of the ongoing Journey. They often made slow and tender love; there was no flogging or bondage.

One evening Angique took her to the opera — both of them dressed, styled and made up in extravagant silks, from tight corsets to exuberant hats. She also took the girl to dine in an expensive restaurant. There she made her wear an apricot dress that was almost knee-length and not blatantly sexy — but it was thin and subtly erotic, hanging from narrow straps that exposed her fragile collarbones.

"My lil Arab Audrey Hepburn," Angique whispered while kissing her bare neck at the roots of her piled-up raven hair.

Angique smiled at the tenseness of the girl as they walked into the place. It was obvious that Alicia felt she could be exposed or humiliated at any time — which was exactly what Angique hoped she'd think. At the table the girl sat very straight, her eyes shifting left and right. Angique watched her closely, wondering how much of Alicia's unease was true fear and how much might be secret excitement. She smiled reassuringly, covering the nervous girl's hand with hers. But then she couldn't resist.

"Honey," she whispered, her lips touching Alicia's ear. "Did you see the cute young waiter?" The girl blushed as she nodded. Angique smiled.

"If I asked, would you show him your tits, when he comes back?" Alicia swallowed — her throat suddenly very dry.

"If... , " she then said with a strangled voice. "If it would please you, yes, I would, of course." Angique chuckled.

"Great answer, girl. But don't be afraid, I won't ask." Alicia's relief was obvious. Angique noticed and smiled.

"Is that a disappointed look I see, honey?" she asked, maliciously. "Would you rather I'd make you strip for him? Or would you even prefer to do it of your own free will, just to please me?" Alicia's eyes were everywhere, but mostly between a rock and a very hard place.

"Poor Licia," Angique said, touching the girl's arm. "I promise I won't tease you — not tonight." The girl blushed. Her eyes screamed "thank you" from under desperate eyebrows. Three tables away the cute waiter appeared, heading for them. Angique brought her mouth to Alicia's ear again.

"Push the straps off your shoulders, honey."

The gasp was audible over the buzz of the restaurant, but the girl's hands went up, sliding the straps off her shoulders. The thin apricot top slithered down, exposing her chest and the white strapless bra that shone against her olive skin like a set of headlights. Her face was on fire.

"Now undo the front clasp of your pretty bra, honey," the voice in her ear went on. She swallowed. The waiter was close now; he did a double take, baffled by what he saw. Alicia held his gaze with hers, even in the heat of her growing panic. Her nervous fingers touched the clasp. She felt the cups relax as they slid apart. Her tits quivered into freedom, the cool air tugging at her nipples. From the left one she felt the weight of the dangling jewel. It made her remember why she'd obeyed and had done what she did. A weak smile struggled to her face — there was pride in it.

There even was a sense of challenge.

Angique tssked, shaking her head left and right. She turned to the waiter.

"I have to apologize," she said. "The girl is so embarrassing. Whenever she suspects the promise of a good cock, she has to go for it." She touched the nearest breast, fondling its swelling nipple. Alicia's face was a study in crimson; the guy's head wasn't much paler.

"She has nice tits, though, wouldn't you agree?" Angique went on. She noticed a growing bulge in the poor man's trousers, making sure he noticed her staring at it. Then she turned her attention back to the girl.

"You can't act like this every time we go out for dinner, honey," she said. "We will be thrown out. Now please hand me your bra and cover your tits." The waiter's relief was as obvious as his disappointment when Alicia replaced the straps of the dress after handing Angique the bra. Angique placed it right before the girl on the damask covered table.

"So much better, honey," she said, smiling. "Now let's see the menu. Maybe you're on it?" She chuckled, knowing the girl wasn't sure at all if she was joking.

Angique took Alicia everywhere, sometimes just showing her off in lovely dresses or kinky outfits. She even once had her laced tightly into a series of corsets to show to a client. The corsets and boldly heeled boots were the only things she wore, and as the client proved to be extremely touchy-feely, she walked in a constant haze of erotic embarrassment. But she never said no; she never turned away.

Once Angique took her to a women-only nightclub, dressed in an ankle-long sheath of filmy fabric — her feet as bare as the rest of her body. She wore a leather dog collar that went with the one Brynn was wearing as he strolled beside her into the place. Her hand rested on the brute's shoulders as they walked, their entrance causing a silence to spread. The gown was the exact silver shade of the hound's pelt and just as his steel muscles rolled underneath the slick fur, her sweet, unfettered curves moved against the material of the dress. Angique asked her to remove it and kneel with the dog at her feet, naked. Alicia not even hesitated.

Angique, being well-known at the place, was quickly surrounded by other patrons, mostly mature women in bold leather outfits that kept their ripe flesh in a tight grip. They chatted and drank, complimenting each other on the latest acquirements in subs, hairstyles and outfits. Soon the girl and her companion seemed forgotten — but they weren't, of course. Every woman was glancing down at the nude slave girl and her dog, although most of them were too sophisticated to get caught looking. Angique chuckled quietly as she noticed.

She also smiled when she looked down. Alicia obviously thought no one watched. The girl's hand had stealthily started to caress Brynn's furry coat before slipping under his belly — sneaking towards the hot dark place between his hind legs. There it started a telltale movement that made the hound groan. He lifted his heavy head and started licking Alicia's bare thigh. Angique heard a soft sigh as the girl maneuvered her body discreetly into a position where the dog's tongue might find her shaven cunt lips. At last she hugged the animal tightly, her hand gaining urgency. Angique seized the opportunity.

"Now look, ladies," she said out loud, drawing their attention. "See what my naughty, sex-crazed girl is doing! She is such a shameless little slut." She pulled away her legs to further display the two creatures at her feet. Alicia yanked up her head, looking around with alarm. Her face flushed with a deep pink color, but her hand never left Brynn's hidden cock — nor did she pull her cunt out of his tongue's reach.

Eager faces formed a canopy over the secret lovers. Alicia pulled her hand from under the dog, not knowing where to put it until she used it to cover her cunt — shielding it from the dogs tongue.

"I... , " she said, and then: "Oh God."

Angique bent forward, taking the girl's hand and placing it where it had been. When she did, Brynn shifted his hind leg, exposing his purple cock. Alicia's ministrations had forced it out of its furry sheath. The women giggled and pointed, to Alicia's further embarrassment.

"It is all right, honey cunt," Angique said. "You may show the ladies how much you love him. They'll envy you for it."

Alicia looked down as her fingers rewrapped themselves around the dog's penis. She jumped, letting out a small cry as the dog's tongue found her clit at the same moment. It earned her a silvery round of laughter.

After a minute of mutual masturbation Angique reached out and covered Alicia's hand to get her attention.

"You know better than this, honey," she whispered almost straight into the girl's ear. Alicia looked up, a new blush starting. Angique just nodded.

"Oh God," Alicia whimpered again, but she stretched her naked body against Brynn, bringing her mouth to the red, swollen cock while opening her legs. A dozen pair of eyes saw her swallow the spear like phallus and starting to suck on it — cheeks hollowing. The dog groaned again and intensified his licking. It took him only minutes to cause Alicia to arch her body in a shattering orgasm. The climax overtook her so completely that she let the dog's cock slip from her mouth, right when it started to spew its slimy sperm. It drowned her face and hair and tits. The women clapped their hands in rapture, cooing and cheering. Angique wondered how many crotches were creamed up by the performance — hers was for sure.

She leant forward, grabbing the girl's soiled face and pressing her lips hard on hers. "Oh God, how I love you," she panted after letting go of the mouth, drawing threads of pungent come.

And then Alicia stopped visiting — no word, no warning. No scratching at the ornate door of Villa anymore, no stripping and oiling, no kneeling and offering her naked ass. Just nothing, not even a little text message.

At first Angique didn't suspect how serious it might be. She was busy herself and assumed the girl would be too. But Alicia could have dropped a line, couldn't she — a simple phone call? Angique started worrying when four days went by. She sent e-mails without getting response. Her phone calls went to voicemail and were never answered.

At last she got really worried. So many things could have gone wrong — from accidents to sickness. And if it wasn't that, things could even be worse. Maybe in the end Alicia didn't care for what they had — not for Angique, not for their love.

On day five there was an e-mail. "Sweet Angique," it said. "This is ... this is something I can't do anymore. I spoke to the priest last night ... at some length. I have been wondering what to say but what can I say except that I want to try something different with my life. I need to move in a direction that I ... will feel more fully comfortable with ... spiritually. And I urge you to do the same. There is no future at this Club. It is so shallow ... only emptiness and incompleteness. Please, I'm very sorry, but it isn't good for me or for you what I've been doing.

Please don't be sad; it is better for both of us. And I ... I know you can find happiness ... which I wish you.

Please be well and be happy, Alicia."

Angique read the message twice and then once more, hoping there might be something she'd missed. Alicia had never shown the slightest sign of religiosity. She knew the girl's family had been members of one of those Christian churches that made the Lebanon a veritable quilt of believes — and a veritable powder keg too, surrounded by Islam. Those same churches had traveled with the emigrants to America, when staying in the Middle East became precarious.

Angique remembered that Rita was a fervent churchgoer. Could she be back in the picture? And if so, why hadn't the girl told her? She sank back in her chair, staring at the screen. She struggled with the heat of anger rising in her throat. They had been so close, so close and now this? She clicked 'reply' and her fingers started typing a response.

"Ah, sweet lil darling," she wrote. "Fold your hands and pray for your soul. But please, leave me out of this. Kiss, a."

The words were colder than her heart, which was sizzling with anger. The typed words also had a sense of finality that she wasn't sure of at all. She would always love the silly thing, whatever she did. But Angique did press the 'send' button, watching the message disappear.

Then she cried.

There was no answer.

Daily concerns helped Angique pushing her depression into the background, but people noticed she wasn't happy — she was jumpy and irritable, often distant. She tried to function and succeeded in getting through her days, but she did it in a mechanical way. She stretched her workdays, just to avoid being alone. But even after fourteen hours of non-stop working, sleep eluded her. At last, when she sat up in her bed again, staring into the dark, truth dawned on her.