She was bedraggled and careworn as she re-entered the living room, still shivering from cold despite the heat emanating from her reddened and tortured backside.

"Enjoying yourself?" I asked sweetly. She returned one of her trademark looks, contempt and hatred oozing from the cast of her mouth and the glare of her eye. "Sit!" I ordered. And she sat, immediately, without demur.

She was attractive, I had to concede. I had called her fat earlier, but in truth she was in good shape, and her breasts, full with large, dark nipples, were quite beguiling. Her bush was heavily trimmed, almost bare, showing off her slit to great effect. I had to admit she turned me on. "Play with yourself," I said, sitting on the floor in front of her, my face inches from her knees. She stared at me with shock: I think she had thought her ordeal was over and she couldn't mask the disappointment in her expression.

"Please," she said. I was thrilled. Sue was still pleading with me, the woman who had caused me so much misery, now reduced to pleading.

"Play."

Reluctantly, her hand lowered to her thigh and her fingers splayed across it, sidling upwards to her slit. Her little finger slid across it, with the others trailing behind, her nails grazing against the soft flesh of her lips. She was still damp from the excitement of her spanking, her lips puffy and swollen, and her index finger easily slid inside. She began to tickle up and down her lips with her index and fourth finger, while her middle finger began to stroke slowly against her clitoris. As it began to react, the perfect, pink sphere began to emerge from behind its hood, hard and glistening, while Sue rolled her finger round and round, sliding over it and circling, circling. She lost herself then, slid into a reverie, forgot about me and her situation. I watched, rapt, for some minutes as she stroked and cajoled, gently frigging herself and coaxing her clitoris to a peak of excitement.

It seemed a shame to interrupt, but after all I was supposed to be punishing her.

"Stop," I said.

Her eyes opened and she snapped back to reality. "Please," she said again. She could say that for ever, as far as I was concerned. It sent a frisson of excitement through me every time.

"You've quite turned me on Sue, with that display. I'm all hot and bothered now. What are you going to do about it?" As usual, she made no reply. If she was to be a genuine submissive she would need to work on her obedience, but I let it pass. "Get up, let me sit there." She stood and I replaced her on the seat. "I'm not wearing any panties," I said, parting my legs. "Be a good girl and get your head under my skirt."

At first she didn't move and again I felt concern that she might rebel, but finally she knelt on the floor at my feet. Gathering my skirt, she lifted it above my knees and bent forward, pushing her head towards me. I took the skirt from her and pulled it over her head, covering her entirely, plunging her into darkness. Sue no longer existed except as a servant of my cunt. I leaned back, parting my legs wider, and gripped the back of her head. Pressing, I forced her towards my pussy.

"Lick."

I felt the first tentative brush of her tongue on my slit, a slow caress along its length, and then another, and another. Prodding, her tongue parted my lips and slid inside me, warm and soft and slithering. She alternated between kissing and stroking, her lips delicate on mine, her tongue subtle and inventive. Reluctant she may have been, but she was giving it her all. I adjusted my position and her face slid further up, towards my clitoris, and at last I felt the touch of her tongue on me, a gentle, lazy circle round and round my hardened clit, replicating the actions of her fingers on her own clitoris just moments before. And the result was the same: waves of delight flooded through me, rolling from deep within my womb and cascading through my body. I tensed, my legs stiff and raised in the air. Rolling back in my chair I pulled myself as wide as I could manage, opening myself to her touch.

It was magical. I lay almost on my back, enjoying the ministrations of a woman who only weeks before had treated me with contempt and cruelty. Now she was serving me. I thought of Louis from Cambridge, and the way I felt when he tongued me, and how I dreamed of forcing Sue to do likewise. And now it was happening. I leaned back further, forcing my arse up towards Sue's face. Her tongue was on my slit, licking and caressing, but I pushed further and further, forcing her tongue downwards. Once more I gripped her head through my skirt and pushed, until her tongue was tickling down from my slit towards my arse. She knew what I was doing and tried to resist, but finally she relented and her tongue slid all the way towards my hole.

And she kissed it.

And she rolled her tongue around it and pressed.

And I came.

It was like a tidal wave consuming me. It launched from my stomach and womb, strafing across my hips and down my legs, through my arms, into my head, my brain, my consciousness. Memories erupted from my mind, moments of passion, of excitement, of vigour, but none as vivid as this. I actually ejaculated, such was the intensity, a spurt of liquid flying out of me as I screamed and lost control of my faculties. The world was alive, the air full of vivid colours and vibrant sounds, and my body was consumed by excitement, every nerve ending screaming its passion. Sue's tongue remained on my hole, pushing for entrance, a constant source of renewed stimulation, making my climax extend on and on, into eternity, or so it seemed.

And suddenly my mind was filled with my Master, the man who had engineered this moment, who had led me, guided me, taught me and loved me, who had given me everything and taken me to heights I could not have imagined.

He taught me to love and he taught me to hate and he showed me how little difference there was between the two. He helped me to embrace both, to harness their power, to cherish the consequences. And he showed me a path, a way of life. And as the woman I hated most in the world brought me to the most stunning climax I had ever known, I gave thanks to my Master. Harriet the Slave Girl had come of age.

Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?

nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

This is the last Harriet the Slave Girl story. I'm sure she will reappear one day, but for now she is off on a sabbatical, recharging her batteries and discovering new deviances. I hope you enjoyed her adventures.