Free Foreign Exchange (The Concubine Chronicles Book 1) by Vanessa Cardui

Jalah.  "I had not intended something quite so . . . well, let us say that I was inspired.  And now we must prepare you for my husband's arrival.
    Liera wasn't sure how long she had spent tied to the table, lost in agony, but it felt as though it was earlier than the day before.  The reason for that was made clear after her bowels were cleaned out; the bath was a somewhat more elaborate affair this time.  Jalah used sponges and cloth and a soft-bristled brush to clean her, inside and out, until her skin was raw.  And then she did up her hair, with long, thin braids shaping flows of unbound hair.  It was a style that was clearly Ralathi, but which Liera hadn't seen before.  Probably because people who wore it weren't seen in public.
    Once Liera was bathed and dried and decorated with braids and perfumes—a splash of something green-smelling at her neck, beneath her arms, and something tingly and faintly musky on her crotch—it was back to the stand by the front door.  Jalah divided her attentions between keeping Liera in pain and aroused, and checking the skin beneath the cuff.  "Some redness," she said.  "Perhaps a small blister.  Well, it shall add to the authenticity of the piece.  But you must not disobey in this fashion, piglet."
    The next time Jalah pinned her leg in place, and took a blowtorch to it, Liera'd do her best not to get burned.  It didn't seem entirely wise to say that, so she went with, "Yes, lady, thank you, lady," and was rewarded with a pat on her head.  And then a long, slow stroke along the length of her pussy.
    The Krin came in with a spring in his step, and he shrugged off Jalah's news that Liera would not be able to climax around him.  It seemed that he had made a small fortune on the sale of some remote tea plantations, and had high hopes for the apartment flats he had bought with his profits.  And that was all that Liera could make out before the Krin's cock was in her mouth, and Jalah's hands were taking her just to the point of orgasm, and holding her there, as the Krin thrust deeply into her.
    Then the stand was tuned around, and the Krin was equally deep in her asshole, with long, hard, disciplined thrusts, which pushed past where she thought she could take, forcing the breath from her with every thrust.  "Soon," whispered Jalah in her ear, "It shall be your friend Taril who will be using you in this fashion, whilst my guests enjoy your performance. And they shall admire my artistry and the loveliness of Miss Enari's possessions. I do hope that you shall not disappoint."
    She tweaked Liera's nipple as her husband used her ass, her anklet moving on Liera's leg with every thrust. Liera groaned, lost. She couldn't come; there wasn't anything on her directly; there wasn't even anything in her cunt. But it was almost like finishing—not so hard, not so intense, but there was nothing but the moment, nothing but the sensation, nothing but the feeling that she was . . . she was doing what she was meant to do, being who she was meant to be.
    The Krin's thrusts grew more intense, and Jalah's hand was on her hip. His climax was almost like it was hers; she gasped and clamped. "Interesting," said Jalah. "You know, there are concubines that are never allowed to climax; with proper training, they learn to take their pleasure in the pleasure of others. I doubt that Maash is ready for you to be trained in this manner. But perhaps with time. It does seem like it might suit you."
    Liera groaned again. "Please, please, lady, please don't suggest this to Maash."
    "Or perhaps not," said Jalah with a laugh. "You are a very responsive girl; it would not do to overstrain. Still, it might be amusing to give you this training regardless, or merely to keep you stimulated for a time without conclusion. If you are this desperate now, after a day of stimulation, I wonder what you be like after a week; a month."
    The Krin groaned and shuddered, and pulled out leaving a trail of come on the inside of her