Captive Page 20
‘Not for pleasure, you slut, for more elixir!’
Aisla opened her mouth to protest, then stopped. The troll was stirring, his cock stiffened by morning blood. Grabbing a vial from the work rack, she sank to her knees, grabbed the fat penis and began to tug frantically. It stiffened quickly, swelling until her fingers no longer met around the shaft. He stirred again and gave a low moan of pleasure. Aisla tugged faster, only to have his massive hand lock in her hair and pull her head into his crotch.
Helpless against his strength, she gaped wide and took his penis in her mouth, sucking busily. His grip relaxed as she worked, licking at the fat knob and masturbating him into her mouth as fast as she could manage. His cock jerked and she pulled her head back, a moment too late as a jet of come erupted full into her face. The troll gave an angry grunt, tightened his grip and pulled hard, forcing her to take the cock back in her mouth. She sucked, drinking the sperm and he sighed contentedly and let go.
Putting the vial to her face she began to scoop the troll’s sperm into it, filling it easily, then a second and a third. The troll sat up, watching her as she worked at the bench, sealing each vial and clipping it into a filigree holder. Sulitea was dressed, huddled into an eccentric mixture of rugs and furs.
As she scrambling into her harness, Aisla bit hard on a strap, tasting the sour leather. The clasp clicked into place between her breasts and she was ready, grabbing the axe and running from the room. Sulitea followed, the troll watching and then stirring as they left. Bursting once more into the morning sunlight, she rushed across the yard and through the gate, relief rushing through her as she saw the Aeg ship run up on the beach, half hidden in mist.
On the shore the fight was almost over. The marauders were scattering in confusion, some back towards the mainland, others out onto the peninsula, up the slope towards her. Those who had stayed to fight were already dead, with the Aeg in pursuit of the remainder. Three Aeg were coming up the slope, two tall, red-haired warriors and another with a great mane of yellow hair, all with shields and broad, double-headed axes.
Aisla screamed in joy at the sight and began to run, waving the axe above her head in welcome. The marauders were also running, directly towards her, desperate to escape their pursuers, only to look up and their faces fix in horror. For a moment Aisla imagined it was her they were scared of, only for the furious bellow of the troll to sound behind her. The Aeg saw it too, and slowed in indecision. Aisla ran on, faster as her strength built, screaming threats at the men as her anger began to burn at their intentions for her and Sulitea. The blonde Aeg roared encouragement and came on, his men following as Aisla swept into the group of marauders.
The first parried, only to have his sword smashed from his hand. Two more drove in simultaneously, missing Aisla as she dodged what seemed slow and clumsy thrusts. Her back swing took a man down, the axe twisting on the air to ride over his blade and cut deep into his body. Another darted in as she wrenched the axe free, only to fall before he could reach her with a thrown knife in his back. Aisla swung again as the three Aeg crashed into the remaining marauders. Her axe caught one man a glancing blow but he dropped back onto the Aeg leader and died. The last marauder fell a moment later and Aisla was left facing the three Aeg.
With a cry of joy she leapt into the blonde warriors arms, kissing him and hugging him to herself. He staggered back, but held his balance, muttered an oath before his surprise gave way to lust and his hands came up under her bottom. As he began to push her down she saw two of the red-haired Aeg take Sulitea, grinning as they pulled away her furs.
The fucking was fast, hard and passionate. Aisla’s harness was pulled to the side even as he laid her down. Two swift tugs pulled away the warrior’s codpiece and the padding beneath as she spread her thighs in open welcome. She was taken hard by the hair and pulled onto his cock, sucking as it swelled quickly to erection, only to be pushed back down before she had properly got the taste of it. A moment later he was between her thighs, then in her, making her gasp as her vagina filled with cock in one long, hard push. A dozen hard pumps and she was moaning in ecstasy, her legs kicked high and her hands massaging her breasts. He came, filling her with sperm but staying in her as her hands burrowed for her tuppenny. As she masturbated in frantic bliss he laughed. She came, clinging to him with tears of joy in her eyes
Chapter 9 – Raider
Aisla and Sulitea sat cross-legged on rugs in the main cabin of the Aeg ship. The warriors were around them, a dozen men, even the smallest of whom seemed huge after their time away. With the marauders dead or escaped, they had looted the camp, finding few items of value but a fair stock of provisions. They were now busily consuming these while Jairoth, the captain of the raider and the second son of an Aeg knight, explained his actions and intentions for the future.
‘The life of a Squire owing fealty to my brother was not for me,’ he was saying. ‘I had decided to ravish an heiress of rank, but there are so few, and all well guarded. Elethrine, heiress to the barony of Korismund, tempted me, a great beauty…’
‘My mistress,’ Aisla interrupted. ‘I am from Korismund.’
‘Then you will know why I hesitated. Her guardian is the giant Uroth, who wrestles trolls for sport…’
‘My father,’ Aisla cut in once more.
‘Then your behaviour on the slope is explained,’ Jairoth went on. ‘So, as he wields an axe that makes yours seem no more than a toothpick I hesitated, trying to conceive a way to avoid him, only to have Melkarion of Aithmund achieve her first! I was both angry and ashamed, so came to vent my fury on the Aprayans, only so far with little success. The dwarven cities to the west cannot be approached, each being defended with devices that hurl great balls of iron miles across the sea. No ship can even land to engage them. Here, the villagers flee into the forest at the sight of our sail, carrying their valuables, and we are left to pillage fish and old clothing. Even the houses do not burn well, being built largely of stone. Next we will try the Merim Islands, which are supposed to be the haunt of pirates who might prove to have some worthwhile loot.’
‘And then back to Aegmund?’ Sulitea asked.
‘I would suppose so,’ he answered. ‘You are Sulitea Mund, who was disgraced, aren’t you?’
She nodded, blushing and Jairoth gave her a thoughtful look.
‘According to rumour,’ he went on, ‘you should be in Kavas-Arion, not doing who knows what with warlocks in Apraya.’
‘There is no warlock, just the troll,’ Sulitea answered, pretending an interest in the cover of the workbook. ‘As to Kavas-Arion, Aisla brought me free. Since then we have been in Cypraea and lately Apraya, as you know.’
‘Is there a saga to be told?’ one of the warriors asked.
‘Indeed,’ Sulitea answered, ‘one that reflects credit on Aisla. She has slain many men, including a great Hai warrior and some priests of a wicked cult.’
‘That I would like to hear,’ Jairoth stated.
‘As you like,’ Sulitea replied, ‘but be patient, I have not yet marshalled the details in proper form.’
She began, keeping her own part to a minimum and extolling Aisla’s virtues in full, also leaving out discreditable and unacceptably rude details. Aisla listened, impressed by Sulitea’s skill in showing their journey in the best possible light while never entirely departing from the facts. At the death of Kroth the Aeg warriors hammered their fists on the planking in salute to her and she found herself blushing. By the finish Jairoth and every man present was looking at her in a mixture of awe and approval. She found herself smiling and blushing in confusion, then more as it came to her how ridiculous her reaction was in the circumstances.
‘You father would be proud,’ Jairoth remarked to murmurs of agreement. ‘So, I take it you will want to raid with us along the coast?’
Aisla nodded, too pleased by his offer to find words in response. Jairoth slammed his
fist down on the table and called for more wine, signalling the resumption of the drinking bout. Aisla joined in, feeling happy and pleasantly aroused.
‘One more thing,’ Jairoth boomed. ‘I will have no discord on this ship. No man is to make claim to either girl, myself as well. Aisla is low born, Sulitea disgraced, they may do as they please, but are not to show favour and so cause argument. Am I clear?’
Aisla nodded again and her smile grew wider as the warriors turned to look at her with new interest. The idea of thanking them for her rescue by satisfying each and every one appealed immensely, yet she knew that a round of cock sucking and the use of her tuppenny would not be enough. She needed a beating, preferably hard, to achieve the full quality of orgasm. Unfortunately they were not Hai, and while she had no doubt that it would amuse them to beat her, she dared not ask for it outright. Instead she needed to give them an excuse to punish her, even though they would know it. She glanced at Sulitea, who gave a shy smile in return, a response that immediately gave Aisla an idea.
‘Sulitea,’ she declared boldly, ‘has picked up certain perverse Glass Coast habits, notably enjoying her bottom beaten for pleasure.’
‘I have not!’ Sulitea answered, her face colouring red on the instant.
‘No?’ Aisla answered. ‘I seem to recall you, quite bare, sticking up your bottom and begging for a spanking. Come on boys, strap her out and whip her for everyone’s pleasure. Have any of you seen a High-Demoiselle stripped nude and beaten?’
‘She is disgraced,’ Jairoth pointed out, ‘not to mention pierced and hung with bells in the most barbaric manner. She can be whipped like any common slut.’
Sulitea’s face became redder still, her arms going instinctively to her breasts.
‘What of yourself, Aisla?’ one of the men demanded. ‘You too were in the Glass Coast.’
‘Yes, what of her?’ Sulitea put in. ‘She satisfied more Hai soldiers than I care to count, and they beat her first. I saw little sign of reluctance or displeasure.’
‘What could I do against twenty soldiers?’ Aisla answered. ‘You went down to me, a girl, a mere maid, and begged for your bottom to be spanked. Spanked, Sulitea Mund, bare, by hand, with your tuppenny and bottom ring on show!’
Sulitea’s face was the colour of beetroot, her mouth set in a smile of agonised embarrassment.
‘Let’s strip her and beat her!’ Aisla crowed. ‘In the nude, with her fat bottom bouncing and wobbling for all to see!’
‘No,’ Jairoth answered. ‘Sulitea, come here, I want my cock attended to while the rest of you give Aisla a punishment, stripped and tied.’
‘Me? Not me!’ Aisla managed in mock protest, only to be grabbed and quickly stripped despite her struggles and squeals.
She continued to feign reluctance as the men took her limbs, dragged her to the companionway and spread her across it. A tough hand caught her between her legs and lifted her body, jamming a bundle of furs beneath her belly to force her to push out her bottom. Her legs spread around it and she could not resist a sigh as the felt the cool air on the rear of her sex and between her bottom cheeks. Both tuppenny and anus were showing from behind, a piece of knowledge that made her yet more desperate for the coming beating and what would follow.
Four of them tied her down, one roping each limb, as the others stood away. Aisla looked back in mixed fear and anticipation, then shock as she saw what was to be applied to her bare bottom. One of the biggest men was drawing a spare oar blade from a chest, a length of polished wood the width of two hands and curving as if it might have been designed to cup the buttocks of a beaten girl. With a deep sob she turned her eyes away and stuck up her bottom, bracing herself for the pain.
It was not slow in coming, the big man bringing the oar down across her bottom with a meaty smack. She screamed despite herself, a sound answered by their booming laughter. The next smack caught her, jamming her pelvis into the furs, then the third as she began to buck and wriggle, her dignity dissolving in the pain of her bottom. The smacks went on, one after another, each catching the full breadth of her small bottom and making the flesh bulge and bounce.
Thirty times the oar smacked down on her helpless body, until she was writhing in a helpless ecstasy of pain, her bottom smacked to a mess of red and purple blotches, her juice dripping freely from her tuppenny. With her well beaten, they began to fuck her, one after another taking advantage of her sopping, spread sex, plunging their cocks deep in her and pumping until they came. Most of the sperm went up her, only to be squashed out by the next penis until it was running thick and white down the insides of her thighs. Some came over her bottom, until both hot cheeks were slimy with it. An impatient few used her mouth, coming down her throat or in her face, until she was blind and filthy with sperm and it ran from both corners of her mouth. Several took her twice, always with less haste, making leisurely use of her mouth while feeling her breasts. When the last had come, his cock spurting up in the slimy crease of her bottom, she was left begging for her own orgasm.
They laughed at her and she cursed, then began to whimper and plead, all pride gone in her need for satisfaction. They laughed all the more, only for Jairoth to order Sulitea to lick Aisla’s bottom and sex clean of sperm. Sulitea, who had been happily stroking Jairoth’s cock and watching Aisla punished, responded with a squeak of mock alarm. A moment later Jairoth had her by the hair and was dragging her across the deck to press her face hard between Aisla’s filthy bottom cheeks.
Aisla sighed as Sulitea began to lick the sperm up from her bottom cheeks. It was slow, almost painfully so, with the men quick to point out any omissions with a slap to Sulitea’s out thrust buttocks. With each slap Sulitea’s bells tinkled, prompting the men to apply more, firmer smacks. Gradually the sperm was licked for Aisla’s hot, throbbing bottom, until both cheeks were shiny with saliva, making her red skin glossy. Sulitea’s attention turned to Aisla’s crease, licking up the sperm with an appetite that drew murmurs of surprise and even shock from the watching men. Sulitea took no notice, but began to lick Aisla’s bottom hole clean, burrowing her tongue tip into the little dimple to lap out the sperm.
The sheer filthiness and submission this act represented was greeted with awed murmurs from the men, several of whom were once again nursing their cocks back towards erection. With Aisla’s anus licked clean, Sulitea began to work lower. Aisla pushed her bottom out, already close to orgasm and knowing that just a touch to her clitoris would be all that it took. Sulitea teased, drinking come from Aisla’s vagina, then slowly lapping up every drop and smear on inner thighs and sex lips. With Aisla groaning aloud and begging for her orgasm in a weak whisper, Sulitea at last gave in. First licking the mess of sperm and girl juice from the heart of Aisla’s sex, Sulitea began to attend to the clitoris. Aisla came almost immediately, with a long, drawn out moan, only to have her mouth filled with cock as the peak hit her.
Sulitea was mounted, fucked crudely from the rear with her face slapping into Aisla’s bottom. She began to masturbate, licking at Aisla’s sex and bottom crease as she was fucked. Aisla sucked happily in the fading glory of her orgasm, tasting the man’s cock in willing resignation to it and to whatever else they wished to do. Sulitea came, burrowing her tongue deep up Aisla’s bottom in plain view, obviously revelling in being seen to achieve orgasm while performing an act so debased for her rank as licking another girl’s bottom.
No sooner had Sulitea come that Jairoth took her away, dragging her by the hair towards his cabin with his erection in his free hand. The others continued to enjoy Aisla, in her mouth and up her vagina, until at last, after every one had come at least twice, they stopped and untied her. Sore and filthy with sweat and come, she sank to the deck, splay legged, to give herself a second, superb orgasm in front of all of them.
Satiated, she retired to the small cabin she and Sulitea had been given. It was one of only three on the ship, a tiny room with t
wo narrow bunks against one bulkhead. Sulitea was already there, face down on the bed with her legs kicked up and the warlock’s workbook open in front of her. A candle lantern hung above her, swinging gentle to the motion of the Dog to throw patterns of yellow light across the cabin and the disturbing pictures on the page Sulitea was reading.
‘ Now I understand,’ Sulitea remarked as Aisla threw herself down beside her. ‘My mistake was to think the diagrams of the glyphs corresponded to the text beside them.’
‘What is this?’ Aisla asked.
‘The charm on your axe,’ Sulitea went on, ‘by mistake I drew the glyph for a souleater in place of that for an edge that would never dull. What colour is it now, the glyph?’
‘Blue,’ Aisla answered, ‘quite a rich blue. I’m sure it wasn’t that dark before.’
‘It must be working then,’ Sulitea continued with immense satisfaction. ‘A libation is needed, but the wine I spilt must have had the right effect. There, I said I could do it.’
‘Do what?’ Aisla demanded.
‘Charm your axe,’ Sulitea replied. ‘Now it’s a souleater, so be careful not to cut anybody.’
‘Sulitea!’ Aisla protested.
‘You are such a superstitious peasant at times, Aisla,’ Sulitea responded. ‘There is no difficulty as long as you are careful, meanwhile, you have only to inflict the least cut to draw the souls out of our enemies. It says so here.’
‘Sulitea!’ Aisla repeated.
‘Oh do stop fussing,’ Sulitea answered. ‘Look, when you warm Elethrine’s bed, do you simply put some embers under the sheets?’
‘No, of course not, the bed would catch afire!’
‘Exactly, you use a warming pan. Magic is the same, a question of process, and so long as one knows the process it is quite safe.’
‘Safe?’ Aisla queried.
‘Quite safe,’ Sulitea insisted. ‘Just be careful.’