Captive Page 15
‘Sulitea has no reason to be precious,’ Aisla answered despite her blushes at the crudity of his words and the rudeness of what he was suggesting. ‘She…’
‘A moment,’ Sulitea cut in. ‘Yarath, may Aisla and I speak alone.’
‘Certainly,’ Yarath answered, gave a polite bow and walked from the room.
‘I am not being buggered by some fat merchant!’ Sulitea hissed as soon as the door had closed.
‘Why not?’ Aisla demanded. ‘I am willing, and he has helped us enormously. Besides, you surrendered so willingly before, to Alanthor, to Hathanis and Iolath. What is the matter?’
‘To warriors and nobles, yes, gladly,’ Sulitea replied. ‘Yarath is a merchant, no more than a peasant for all his wealth.’
‘So is Babalyn,’ Aisla objected.
‘She’s a girl,’ Sulitea answered, blushing faintly.
‘What of the dung-gatherer in Thieron then?’ Aisla demanded.
‘He fought, I couldn’t help myself,’ Sulitea answered quietly.
‘Anyway,’ Aisla went on, ‘after the celibentuary it shouldn’t matter. You said as much yourself.’
‘It seems to matter now,’ Sulitea answered defiantly.
‘The obligations of your rank, or lack of it, seem to vary with remarkable convenience,’ Aisla pointed out.
‘This is different,’ Sulitea answered, now blushing. ‘I’ve never had it in my bottom!’
‘No? Not Alanthor? What about at Kavas-Arion?’
‘The count preferred my tuppenny. At Kavas-Arion I was fat Polia’s pet. Her way of humiliating me was to pee on me. She never forced my bottom ring. I am virgin in it!’
For five full days the Amaratine travelled across the Ergan deep, sometimes by sail, more often by oar. Each evening, after they had eaten, Aisla would be bent across his cabin table and buggered, while Sulitea watched. Yarath’s technique was simple, and consistent. Once he had taken a glass of wine and a pause for his digestion, he would ask Aisla to strip. She would peel, always nude, as he liked her, then drape herself comfortably across the table with a cushion under her tummy. Yarath would then beat her, gently, using a thin cane until the blood came to her buttocks and she began to moan and stick up her bottom. Her anus would then be lubricated, Yarath using whatever grease remained on the plates and spending plenty of time with his finger deep up her bottom, making her sigh as he worked her ring open.
When she was fully ready he would come to her front and present his cock to her mouth. She would suck, eager for his cock after being so well warmed, mouthing his penis until he was fully erect. He would go behind her and tease her, rubbing his cock in the wet flesh of her sex, fucking her briefly and then smearing her own juices onto her anus. For a space he would rut between her buttocks, allowing her to use his balls to masturbate with but always pulling back before she came. Only then would she be buggered, his cock put to her ring and squeezed inside, deep into her rectum as she put her fingers to her clitoris. They would come together, timing it so that Yarath waited until her ring had begun to contract on his cock before giving a final series of hard pushes and coming in her rectum.
Only on the fifth day did he vary his routine. A bowl of fruit had been served with dinner, as always, only after so many days in the heat of the cabin they had become over ripe. Aisla had sucked Yarath hard and bent herself over the table. After being beaten, when she had stuck out her bottom to await greasing and anal penetration, she was surprised to feel something firm but much larger than his cock pressed to the entrance of her vagina. Looking back, she found he had the fruit bowl in one hand and was admiring her naked rear as he fed what was probably a tangerine into her hole.
She made no complaint, enjoying the straining, over full sensation in her tuppenny as her flesh stretched to take the fruit. Another followed, making her tube bulge and stretch in the most satisfying way. She was clenching her vagina to keep them in and to get the most out of the feeling, making her bottom cheeks tighten as well. Sulitea giggled at the sight, drawing a grin from Yarath as he loaded a finger with the grease from the sea duck they had shared for dinner.
Aisla sighed as the warm grease touched her bottom hole, then gave a little gasp as her anus was penetrated. Yarath began to wriggle his finger about in her rectum, exploring her and greasing her ring, then feeling the shape of the tangerines through the membrane between vagina and rectum. Aisla pushed her bottom back, eager for buggery, but was given a gentle slap for her trouble. Yarath’s finger pulled from her anus and something replaced it, not his cock, but another tangerine.
With her eyes and mouth wide in shock, Aisla struggled to accept the fruit in her back passage. She felt her ring stretch and a complaining stab of pain, but even as she cried out her anus gave and the fruit had popped inside. She accepted it with a long groan. Juice had splashed between her buttocks and was trickling down her thighs, showing that the tangerine had burst as it went up her. Sulitea giggled again and another fruit was pressed to Aisla’s anus, again stretching, hurting and popping inside just when she thought she could not take it. A third followed, leaving both vagina and rectum bloated and straining, while she felt an urgent need to evacuate herself.
Only then did Yarath take her by the hips, and she realised she was to be buggered with the tangerines still in her rectum. His cock went in slowly, forcing the fruit aside and increasing the straining feeling in her bowels. By the time he was in her to the hilt she was panting and struggling for breath, overwhelmed by the bloated sensation in her gut and up her vagina.
Yarath began to bugger her, with the fruit rolling and bumping in her rectum with each push. Aisla’s control went quickly, and as Sulitea came to stroke her hair as she panted and grunted her way through the sodomy. Her hands were locked hard on the table top at first, gripped tight in a futile effort to control herself. Soon they slipped, first back to her buttocks to stretch them open and show off her buggered bottom hole, then beneath her to find her clitoris and start on the climb to orgasm.
It came quickly, but not fast enough. Yarath got there first, grunting as he come deep up her bottom and then pulling free despite her begging him to keep his penis in her hole while she came. He just laughed and slapped her bottom, and as she started to come she felt a tangerine begin to emerge from her sperm slick anus. It came out slowly, squeezing back a little more with each contraction as her ring began to pulse. The two in her vagina fell out, lading squashily on the floor. Her anus gaped as her orgasm peaked and she cried out as the tangerine burst from her back passage with a lewd rasping sound and a wet squelch as it struck the floor.
Dawn the following day revealed mountains on the horizon with a space of low coastline between. Aisla went to the bows, watching as Port Ergan became first a line of grey against the green of the shore, then ever more distinct, until the fine stone houses that lined the sea front behind the harbour were clearly visible. Remembering her previous visit she felt a pang of unease but pushed it down, assuring herself that they would be safe under the protection of Yarath and his colleagues.
Two hours later they had docked and been taken to the house Yarath now kept in a prosperous side street. Yarath’s nephew Gerris was introduced, a tall, handsome young man dressed in rich and immaculate clothes of pure black velvet. He also wore a flamboyant plumed hat in the same rich cloth and a rapier at his belt, hung at a deliberately jaunty angle. Aisla was immediately struck by his appearance and refined manner and immediately decided to offer him the same pleasures she had given his uncle. His manner proved to be no less elaborate, a blend of the charming and the insulting that gave her simultaneous desires to suck his cock and hit him with the axe.
As they were introduced a glance at Sulitea showed that she was no less moved, responding to him with an affected formality. Yarath gave a brief version of their story and asked Gerris if he would help the girls buy suitable clothes.
‘Absolutely!’ Gerris responded with enthusiasm. ‘We shall buy only the finest. Velvet, silk, nothing will be too good for you. Size may be a problem, but you are slender while dwarven and halfling women tend to be broad hipped and busty, so we should manage.’
‘Thank you,’ Aisla responded, suddenly acutely conscious of her nakedness underneath her torn burnouse.
Gerris was as good as his word, purchasing them smock dresses in pretty materials although so short that they barely covered the girls’ bottoms. The underwear was little better. Although the chemises were tolerably similar in design to Mundic garments, the only items available to replace their drawers where loose, heavily frilled pantalettes that swelled out the rear of their smocks and showed if they bent even slightly. Gerris assured them that these were quite the fashion and that it was only their height and the length of their legs that made the garments ill fitting. Aisla accepted his word, but when dressed felt more self-conscious than before. Sulitea, in blue velvet with her dress flaring over the pantalettes, look both indecent and faintly ridiculous, as if costumed for some deliberately smutty farce. Gerris refused to accept their misgivings, apparently with sincerity.
Yarath was also delighted with the change and gave Aisla’s bottom a familiar squeeze before announcing that he had ordered a donkey train to be assembled for the road north. Gerris was to escort them to the town of Aponan, a largely dwarven settlement from which occasional ships sailed to Aegmund. Lunch was then served, with Yarath talking happily of business matters and the girls flirting with Gerris.
With lunch finished, Yarath asked for a final indulgence from Aisla. Feeling unusually shy in front of the handsome Gerris, she took him upstairs and allowed him to give her a firm spanking before sucking his cock to erection, greasing her bottom ring with butter and allowing him to bugger her. To take him she lay sideways on the bed with her bare bottom out of her frilly pantalettes and his cock wedged into her anus from behind.
Afterwards, as she cleaned herself up and adjusted her dress, she caught sight of herself in a mirror, slightly bent with a great spray of lace and ruffles pouting from beneath her abbreviated dress. With her extra height she looked even less decent than Sulitea, with the overblown garment drawing unreasonable attention to her bottom. Taking the harness clip she had won from Kroth, she pinned up the garment at the back, making it marginally less obtrusive.
Coming down, she found the donkeys already assembled in the yard, three of them, each laden with saddlebags which Gerris explained were filled not only with their goods and basic provisions, but with Hai delicacies and wine, his intention being to make the journey something of a pleasure outing. The implication that this would include sex was not lost on her. They set off immediately, and rode for the rest of the day, first past grand mansions at the edge of Port Ergan, then through an area of farmsteads and small-holdings and finally out into wild country with a mountain rising to the west. Other rose beyond it, swinging round in a broad curve until lost in the haze of the north-eastern horizon.
‘The old road follows the shore and cuts inland beyond the third of those peaks,’ Gerris explained. ‘It is harsh and too steep for wains, hence the limited overland trade. We should experience no difficulty, although you are fortunate to have me as your guide. It is easy to stray from the road, and the forest is home to bears and wood-apes. Even trolls have been seen along the high passes. Given this danger, I trust that you will extend to me the same delectable privileges my uncle enjoyed aboard ship?’
‘I might, at least’ Aisla said teasingly. ‘It is unfortunate that Sulitea, being high-born, is unable to indulge you.’
‘Why so?’ Gerris asked.
‘It is unbecoming for her to surrender to a mere merchant,’ Aisla said.
‘I do not follow you,’ Gerris went on. ‘Why should she not enjoy herself with a merchant as well as any other man? Do you not consider me handsome, Sulitea?’
‘You are handsome,’ Sulitea admitted. ‘Also vain and boastful, which are not considered virtues in Mund.’
‘So beautiful yet so aloof!’ Gerris laughed. ‘Ah but I would like to take a whip to that fat little peach which wobbles so delightfully behind you as you walk and bounces so sweetly on the donkey’s back. Then I would bugger, long and slow, and make you come with my prick in your whacked bottom. Ah yes, that would be a pleasure!’
Sulitea responded with a distasteful sniff.
‘She can not oblige you,’ Aisla went on. ‘In Mund it is unthinkable for a girl of Sulitea’s rank to submit herself to a merchant. A pariah who fought well would be more suitable, as Sulitea herself will vouch. Merchants are essentially peasants after all. Even I have more status.’
‘Now there I must take issue!’ Gerris declared as Sulitea threw Aisla a warning look. ‘We Hai make no such distinction. My mother is sister to Yarath, it is true. My father, however, is a knight and cousin in turn to the Count of An-Jhorai. Perhaps then I am not such a churl after all?’
‘Indeed not,’ Sulitea answered, warming suddenly.
‘Then I shall whip you delectable arse and bugger you this very night!’ Gerris declared. ‘And you also, Aisla, I must not play favourites.’
‘You shall do no such thing!’ Sulitea answered, but with notably less ice in her voice than before.
Gerris did not reply save to give a light laugh.
‘You can whip me if you like,’ Aisla offered, ‘even strip me bare and spank me naked across your knee. After that I will gladly let you bugger me.’
‘The offer is sweet,’ Gerris answered, ‘too sweet to resist. Still, Sulitea’s very reluctance is appealing.’
‘I am not reluctant,’ Sulitea answered. ‘As you have a degree of pedigree I will gladly allow you to indulge yourself with me. A naked spanking would bring me a sting of shame you probably would not understand, much stronger than Aisla’s emotion under the same stimulus. I only ask that you spare my bottom ring.’
‘She’s virgin behind,’ Aisla said dismissively.
‘Virgin?’ Gerris exclaimed. ‘A virgin bumhole? I do not believe it. A girl as beautiful as you! Some man must have had his prick up your arse, surely?’
‘No,’ Sulitea answered very quietly. ‘She is right. I am virgin.’
‘Not for long!’ he answered. ‘Show it then, let us see that little unpopped arse hole. Come, little one, off the donkey and pull those fat cheeks apart!’
Sulitea’s cheeks flared crimson at his words and Aisla laughed at the sight, enjoying Sulitea’s discomfort.
‘Do it, Sulitea!’ she urged. ‘It comes to all of us in the end, and after a while the pleasure of the feeling overcomes your pain, if not your sense of indignity.’
‘Come,’ Gerris agreed, ‘you have a beautiful bottom, it is only natural for men to wish to put their tools in it. I will be careful, and open you slowly, after which your passage will be less tight. Then, should any man take you by surprise in the future, you will be able to accommodate him without too much discomfort. Thus there is every advantage in surrender to me. What do you say?’
Sulitea said nothing, contenting herself with a toss of her curls either intended to convey contempt or because she was too embarrassed to answer. They rode on for a space without speaking but with an air of sexual tension. The land rose higher and rougher to their side, until they were forced to take to a narrow strip of rock and boulder between the shore and a slope that was almost a cliff. Behind, all trace of human habitation was lost to view, and as Gerris turned and gave a thoughtful nod, Aisla knew that he had decided they could indulge themselves without fear of interruption. Sure enough, as soon as they had rounded the next small headland he declared the spot suitable for camp.
Having dismounted and eaten, they fell to talking again while sipping wine, of which Gerris had brought a plentiful supply. Soon he had returned to conversation to sex and the possibility of taking Su
litea’s anal virginity.
‘Are conditions not perfect?’ he declared, swinging her arm out to take in the scenery. ‘A beautiful setting, a handsome lover, fine strong wine, a friend to comfort you afterwards. Come, why hesitate?’
‘He’s right,’ Aisla urged. ‘It’s perfect, and I do want to see. Come, Sulitea, surrender and I promise you any indulgence you care to name.’
‘I will say this,’ Sulitea laughed, ‘bring the donkeys off with your mouth and breasts and Gerris can have me. Could I make a fairer offer?’
She sat back with a look of smug satisfaction on her face and took an exaggeratedly delicate sip of her wine. Aisla could find no reply at first, knowing that outrage would only make both Sulitea and Gerris laugh. Yet the offer having been made, it was impossible not to glance at the donkeys, all three of which were male. They were placidly foraging for plants growing among the rocks at the top of the beach, indifferent to the humans. From the belly of each hung a thick penis sheaf.
The sight sent a shiver through her and set her lust and sense of mischief in conflict with her conscience. If her mother, or even Elethrine, had caught her with an animal she would have been stripped naked, tied in the blockyard and beaten until she howled, all the while with a placard proclaiming her crime hung around her neck. Not that she’d have done it. Then again, this was not Korismund, and there was no authority to punish her for such dirty behaviour, while if she did it, Sulitea would get a cock up her bottom. Moreover, she would know the consequences while she watched Aisla masturbate the beasts, making her subsequent fate all the more poignant. It was impossible to resist, she might feel dirty, she might feel humiliated, but a good deal less of both than the haughty Sulitea while once she had Gerris’ penis jammed firmly up her rectum. Blushing furiously, Aisla pulled her dress up and over her head.