Devi's Paradise by Roxane Beaufort

try that trick with him,’ Sabrina cautioned Romilly, though she was breathing hard, excited by the spectacle. ‘You are for the master.’
    ‘We’ll see about that,’ Romilly answered heavily, averting her eyes from the antics of her promiscuous friend.
    ‘Such disgraceful behaviour,’ huffed Jessica. ‘She’s no better than she should be! As for yon black-a-moor; no gentleman worth his salt would have put her in charge!’
    Unfortunately Sabrina heard her and the whip landed unerringly across Jessica’s backside. ‘Are you talking about me?’ she snapped, and lashed her again.
    ‘“If the cap fits wear it”,’ Jessica responded sharply.
    ‘Hush,’ Romilly warned, but it was too late. Sabrina fell upon the hapless duenna, lashing out mercilessly, the whip singing as it cut through the air, landing with brutal force. Jessica hopped about nimbly but could not avoid the blows. Sabrina was too skilled and eventually her victim dropped to her knees, head bowed as she tried to protect herself. Then tiring of this game her tormenter threw the whip down and lowered herself into the pool, her draperies floating around her as she moved across to join Alvina and Marcus in their amatory play.
    Romilly ventured in and Sabrina paid her special attention, hands skimming over her body and limbs, bringing her to a tingling state of arousal. To lie back with her head resting on the pool’s rim was a blissful sensation. She allowed her legs to float, becoming used to the unusual sight of her own nakedness. Sabina’s caresses were gentle, making the excuse of soaping her, and Romilly relaxed, limp as a puppet whose strings are slack, remembering the native girl, Jacy, and the way in which she had pleasured her. Would Sabrina do the same? She forgot the disapproving Jessica, forgot even to be sorry for her because she’d been lashed. Nothing mattered but that this sensual bath went on.
    Sabrina smiled and idled her fingers around Romilly’s labia, skimming across the hard pea of her nodule, making it throb. She was rousing but not satisfying her and after a while she gave her a final rinse and then said, ‘Come, let us get on, you are to be dressed for the master.’
    Romilly opened her eyes reluctantly, coming to herself and shocked by her wanton delight in Sabrina’s caresses. It was as if she was under a spell, and she did as the Creole ordered, dripping water as she got out of the pool, and allowing the slaves to dry her then rub oil into her skin until she felt completely boneless. She was then conducted back to Sabrina’s apartment.
    Seated on a stool before a mirror in a gilded stand, she watched as they brushed her hair so that it swept down like a golden curtain. Jessica carried over a pink silk robe threaded with silver and it was carefully dropped over Romilly’s head and fastened, Greek fashion, with a girdle that crossed over her breasts and underneath them, lifting the rounded globes. The neckline was revealing, the material transparent, showing the curves of her buttocks, the tiny waist and flat belly, the light gold floss that covered her pubis.
    Sabrina had changed too, into an embroidered scarlet skirt slit to the thigh and a tiny bolero that gave glimpses of her breasts at almost every movement. Alvina, similarly dressed to Romilly, though in purple, posed in front of the mirror, exclaiming, ‘It’s like a masquerade costume! I love it. When I get back to London I’ll introduce it to balls at Court. The King will adore it!’
    ‘You know the King of England?’ Sabrina asked, momentarily jerked out of her complacency.
    ‘Well, not exactly… not personally… but I have seen him close up and been to parties at the palace.’
    Sabrina recovered her poise, saying with a dark note in her voice, ‘I’ll wager they are nothing like the gathering you are to attend tonight. Armand excels himself when it comes to entertaining.’
    ‘I can’t possibly appear like this!’ Romilly exclaimed. ‘It’s