Captive Page 7

  With the sun sinking close to the horizon the head of the column reached a shallow gorge, in which a camp was pitched. By the time Aisla’s wagon reached this tents had already been set for Elmaea and Sulitea, a little way apart on an area of flat grass beside the stream. Their position had clearly been chosen for safety and privacy, with the army encamped on every side and their area screened from the vulgar gaze by copses of smoke tree, willow and low coffinwood. Laia went to wait on Elmaea, who was shortly called to the Count, leaving Aisla and Sulitea to themselves.

  ‘What a dreadful woman!’ Sulitea declared as Aisla spread out rugs in their tent. ‘I attempted to exchange pleasantries, but she will answer only in the most cold and formal terms. Still, now we have a moment of peace, so I shall alleviate the boredom by giving you a good whipping. The Hai are remarkably inventive when it comes to beating girls and I intend to test one or two of their techniques.’

  ‘I already have,’ Aisla remarked. ‘Spare me for now, please mistress, my bottom is bruised.’

  ‘I am not merciless,’ Sulitea answered. ‘I shall whip those fat titties instead.’

  ‘They’re bruised too,’ Aisla admitted. ‘I was put on a machine, you see…’

  ‘You are a slut, Aisla,’ Sulitea interrupted. ‘It was for pleasure, with Grathor, was it not?’

  ‘In a way,’ Aisla admitted.

  ‘A slut, as I said,’ Sulitea cut her off. ‘Very well, I will postpone your beating, after all, starting with a fresh bottom is so much more satisfying. I like to see the marks rise. The same applies to your titty whipping. For now I shall have to try something else. Do you know what they used to do to us in Kavas-Arion?’

  ‘No,’ Aisla admitted, ‘well, not everything.’

  ‘Then I shall show you a little trick,’ Sulitea went on, ‘one that Polia taught me, the fat trollbitch. Not here though, these rugs are too fine to spoil. Come down to the stream and we will see if we can not find a private place.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Aisla asked nervously.

  ‘Punish you, as I said,’ Sulitea answered, ‘both because you deserve it for deserting me last night and because it will give me immense pleasure to do to you what was done to me so many times.’

  Sulitea took Aisla by the hand and walked from the tent to where the stream had cut a shallow trench among the trees and bushes. The water was low, with flat rocks worn smooth by the current now clear of the surface.

  ‘Perfect,’ Sulitea declared, ‘now strip, bare unless you want your clothes ruined, and lie down on that rock, the big one with the puddle in the dip.’

  ‘I’ll get wet,’ Aisla protested.

  ‘Wetter than you think,’ Sulitea answered. ‘Come on, get on with it, the Count might want me.’

  Aisla quickly began to undress, wondering what Sulitea intended to do to her. Removing the tight Hai drawers from beneath her skirt was a relief, as they were far less comfortable than the voluminous ones she was used to. Only when her dress was off did she start to feel vulnerable, a sensation that increased strongly with the removal of her chemise to expose her breasts.

  ‘Boots too,’ Sulitea instructed. ‘I want you nude.’

  While Sulitea watched with a pleased smirk Aisla obeyed, placing her boots on a convenient rock and folding her clothes on top of them. Turning back to Sulitea she gave a worried smile, unsure how much her nudity was a punishment and how much a humiliating erotic game.

  ‘Good,’ Sulitea observed, ‘and very pretty, if somewhat heavy breasted for true elegance and perhaps a little muscular to be ladylike. Still, for a maid, really quite sweet. Yes, I see you’ve had your titties whipped, hard too although doubtless you enjoyed it. Take your hands away from your tuppenny and put them on your head, then turn, slowly.’

  Aisla obeyed, with her pulse quickening and the blood rising to her cheeks as she showed herself off.

  ‘A neat little tuppenny,’ Sulitea remarked, ‘despite the overgrown tangle of peasant red curls. Your bottom has suffered, hasn’t it?’

  Aisla gave a miserable nod and stopped. She could feel Sulitea’s eyes on her back and bottom, tracing the gentle curves with a proprietorial delight, a reaction appropriate to a pretty toy.

  ‘Sweet indeed,’ Sulitea went on, ‘round, reasonably full yet firm, a good deep cleft. I shall enjoy beating you, Aisla. Fine hair too, for all its common colour. Now get down on the rock, titties up, bottom in the little puddle.’

  With her cheeks flushed hot from Sulitea’s casual description of her bottom, Aisla turned and jumped to the broad rock Sulitea had indicated. It was smooth and warm from the day’s sun, while the little puddle proved to be quite hot as she sat down in it. Lying full length on the rock, she rested her head on her hands and threw a questioning glance at Sulitea, wondering how the mild embarrassment she felt at her nakedness could be considered a punishment.

  ‘Good girl,’ Sulitea announced. ‘Now, the game is this. Essentially you will be my chamber pot, with penalties attached for failing to do the job properly.’

  ‘Chamber pot?’ Aisla queried.

  ‘Chamber pot,’ Sulitea repeated and reached down beneath her skirt.

  The awful realisation of what was going to happen to her swept over Aisla as she watched Sulitea pulled off her drawers from beneath her skirts. Sulitea intended to pee on her, maybe worse.

  ‘The penalties,’ Sulitea continued merrily, ‘are simple. I shall do it in your mouth. What you spill you must lick up. Fat Polia used to make me offer other girls the use of my tongue, one girl for each minute spent licking, a formula we can easily adapt to present circumstances.’

  Her manner was playful, almost childish, making it hard for Aisla to resent the degrading punishment that was she was about to be given. For a moment she considered rising and suggesting to Sulitea that peeing on her was simply too dirty to make an acceptable punishment. Yet obedience to the high-born was too deeply ingrained for the thought to become action, while her tuppenny was tingling with the same shameful excitement she had felt at the prospect of being whipped in public. Meekly, she opened her mouth, surrendering herself to being used as a potty.

  Sulitea lifted her skirts and jumped to the rock, leaving her drawers hung from a twig. She straddled Aisla, placing a foot to either side of her chest, all the while beaming with pleasure. Aisla watched as Sulitea began to tug up her skirts, revealing soft, well formed legs and then the rich bush of golden hair that hid her tuppenny. With the skirts held high Sulitea cocked her knees apart and spread the lips of her sex, displaying the moist pink centre of her tuppenny with the pee-hole clearly visible in the puffy flesh below her clitoris.

  ‘Keep your mouth wide,’ Sulitea instructed. ‘Remember, any you spill must be licked from the ground. Here we are then, your slut’s wine as Polia used to call it.’

  As Sulitea spoke Aisla saw her tuppenny pout and the next instant a spray of urine burst from the centre. Aisla shut her eyes an instant before it caught her, full in the face. The stream was on her nose, then right in one eye and she had to jerk her head around to catch it in her mouth. She tried to swallow but it was hopeless. The urine filled her mouth and bubbled from the sides, flowing down her neck to soil her hair. Nor was Sulitea’s stream accurate, splashing on Aisla’s lips to spray her face and breasts.

  Sulitea laughed as she peed on Aisla, a clear beautiful sound that made her behaviour seem even dirtier by contrast. Again and again Aisla swallowed, until her stomach felt heavy with pee and the acrid flavour was swamping her senses. Still it splashed out, and as Sulitea moved the stream was sprayed onto Aisla’s breasts and belly, then directly over her tuppenny. As the warm urine splashed on her clitoris Aisla gave in to her need and spread her thighs, allowing the laughing Sulitea to pee into her vagina, from which a warm trickle ran down between her buttocks to moisten the crease and her anus.

  Sulite
a’s stream dried to a trickle, at which she gave a disappointed sigh, then wriggled her hips to shake the last few drops from her pee-hole. Aisla was left in a puddle of urine, her face and chest soaked, her hair a sodden mess, her eyes tight shut with little pools on each lid. Her mouth was full of the taste as well and a fair bit had gone up her nose. Above her Sulitea was laughing again, delighted by what she had done.

  ‘Now lick up what you spilt!’ Sulitea ordered. ‘You are a hopeless chamber pot. Why, I used to do better than that, even though fat Polia must have a bladder twice the size of mine.’

  Aisla crawled to her knees as Sulitea climbed off her. The little puddle of warm water she had originally put her bottom in was now a broad pool, and more pee than water. Putting her face down, she began to drink, sucking up the hot piddle and gulping it down as quickly as she could. Sulitea had jumped to another rock, and continued laughing as Aisla drank up her urine and occasionally remarking on the passage of an entirely conjectural minute.

  ‘What a good little girl!’ Sulitea crowed when Aisla had licked up the last of the pee puddle to leave no more than a wet stain on the rock. ‘Now get in the stream and clean yourself up, you filthy little slut. Then you are to lick my tuppenny, and as you’ve been a good, obedient girl you can touch yourself while you do it.’

  Aisla crawled thankfully into the stream, submerging herself in the cool water several times before standing and wringing out her hair. When she finally dared to open her eyes it was to find Sulitea waiting patiently at the top of the bank.

  ‘In the tent,’ Sulitea instructed. ‘It wouldn’t do for me to be caught having my tuppenny licked by my maid, even if I’m sure all the women do it. Come on, and leave your clothes, it doesn’t matter if you’re seen in the nude. You’re just my maid and a slut as well.’

  Aisla scrambled up the bank after Sulitea, now thoroughly aroused by the way she had been treated and by Sulitea’s casual assumption of sexual command. They reached the tent without being seen and she knelt, ready to put her face to Sulitea’s sex and bring her off.

  ‘I like it kneeling,’ Sulitea declared as she began to pull up her skirts and petticoats, ‘and you are to kiss my bottom ring first, just to show how low you are, and wriggle your nose about in the hole while you lick, I adore that.’

  ‘Who’s done it to you?’ Aisla asked, astonished by Sulitea’s knowledge of rude behaviour.

  ‘Girls in the celibentuary,’ Sulitea answered. ‘The matrons used to love to make us do it to each other. If you think kissing a bottom ring is dirty then just you wait. Now come on, I need it now.’

  Sulitea sank down, bottom towards Aisla, with the tight Hai drawers stretched over her cheeks. With her fingers trembling, Aisla took hold of the split and pulled the drawers open, revealing the full glory of Sulitea’s bottom. The crease was deep, with a tuft of dark gold hair showing and Sulitea’s sex lips peeping out below. Aisla swallowed, bracing herself to kiss Sulitea’s anus, then put her hands to the meaty bottom cheeks and pulled them open.

  Obliging, Sulitea pulled in her back, letting her cheeks spread wide. Her anus was a tight, puckered dimple between, pink in a corona of darker flesh. Aisla pursed her lips, savoured the awful moment of knowing that she was really going to do it and leant forward, planting a demure peck on Sulitea’s ring.

  ‘Again, properly,’ Sulitea demanded.

  Aisla obeyed, pressing her lips firmly to Sulitea’s bottom hole in a long, lingering kiss as her pleasure got the better of her. An instant later she was licking the tight hole, pressing her lips to it and forcing it open with her tongue, lapping and slurping, revelling in the taste and feel of it. Sulitea groaned and pushed her bottom back, firmly into Aisla’s face.

  Still licking, Aisla put one hand to her own sex and the other to Sulitea’s. She found her own clitoris as she began to masturbate Sulitea, all the while licking the tight bottom ring which had begun to soften and pout under her tongue. Sulitea was groaning deeply and squeezing her breasts through her bodice, then wrenching at it to let them spill into her hands. Aisla kept licking, thinking of how it had felt to have her mouth peed in as her tongue delved deeper up Sulitea’s bottom.

  She started to come, luxuriating in the taste and feel of Sulitea’s bottom while her head spun with images of her own shame and abasement. As the orgasm went through her a sudden, clear thought crept in, an understanding of at least a part of what it would mean to be in a celibentuary.

  Her concentration had gone as she came, her fingers slipping clumsily in the wet flesh of Sulitea’s sex. Only with the slow ebb of her own orgasm did she return properly to what she had been ordered to do, licking at Sulitea’s gaping anus as she flicked and stroked the hard clitoris. Sulitea’s moans became deeper, she started to grunt, then to scream, calling out Aisla’s name and then collapsing face down on the rug, her bottom still lifted. Aisla sat slowly back, her head spinning, her mouth full of the taste of girl. Sulitea stayed down for a long moment, taking deep breaths, then rolled to her side. Aisla smiled, remembering how Sulitea had called her name at the very top of her climax. Sulitea blushed faintly, smiled then abruptly sat up, once more in control.

  ‘You are a good slut, we must do that more often,’ she announced coolly. ‘Now, what did we say, twelve minutes to lick up my pee?’

  ‘Twelve, yes, but…’ Aisla began.

  ‘You didn’t think I’d let you off did you?’ Sulitea interrupted. ‘Just because you lick well?’

  ‘No… I mean, yes,’ Aisla stammered.

  ‘Well I won’t,’ Sulitea went on. ‘To do so would erode my position as your mistress. Twelve minutes? Hmm, well, as there aren’t twelve girls to lick you had better do some cock sucking. Go out into the camp and chose twelve men…’

  ‘Sulitea!’ Aisla protested.

  ‘Do as you’re told,’ Sulitea answered, ‘and you need not pretend you won’t enjoy it. You can take them into the thicket by the stream so I can see, and don’t think I won’t be counting.’

  ‘Sulitea, please,’ Aisla begged, ‘if I do this every man in the army will think they can have me!’

  ‘Exactly,’ Sulitea answered, ‘now run along. No, you had better dress, we can’t have naked brats running around the camp, it might get back to someone who matters.’

  Aisla dressed with a feeling of deep chagrin and a trembling jaw. Sulitea watched, clearly enjoying Aisla’s discomfort. Outside, evening was falling quickly, with the campfires of the army showing on every side through the foliage. Aisla set out, wondering how to obey Sulitea without leaving herself the butt of every single common soldier’s lust for the remainder of the campaign. The idea clearly amused Sulitea, who seemed to want to revenge herself on Aisla for no very obvious reason. Possibly it was simply that she was the most convenient target for Sulitea’s resentment, or perhaps the celibentuary had given her a taste for tormenting those in her power. For a moment, as she hesitated in the screen of bushes, Aisla considered simply defying her mistress. Unfortunately such a choice was bound to end in a worse punishment. With a sigh she resigned herself to sucking off twelve soldiers, although it was the consequences and not the act she feared.

  The first was easy, a lone steward carrying a cauldron of foraged edibles. He smiled as Aisla greeted him and accepted her flirtatious advances without surprise, despite being middle-aged, corpulent and lacking the majority of his teeth. He made no complaint at being led into the tangled copse as Sulitea had demanded, and Aisla soon had his erect penis in her mouth. After barely more than a minute he came, filling her mouth with thick, salty sperm. He pulled out and thanked her, then went his way, after asking her if he might visit her again. She agreed on the condition that he keep what they had done to himself, which he promised.

  Aisla wiped the sperm from her lips, now pleased with herself for outwitting Sulitea. The answer was simple, she would chose those who were alone and promise future se
xual favours in return for their silence, thus completing her twelve men without seeming a blatant slut.

  The next few men were easy. Stewards were moving around the camp dispensing the evening meal to the individual squadrons. Five times Aisla managed to divert one from his labour, even managing to chose the more attractive individuals from among them. With six men’s sperm in her belly she was beginning to feel a little sick, but her lust was rising again as well and she had began to wonder if she should not allow some of the later ones more intimate pleasures.

  Her seventh and eighth were swineherds collecting leftovers for the pigs, who she propositioned together as her resolve to take one at a time had begun to slip. They had her in turns, one feeling her breasts while she sucked the other. The first came in her mouth, but the second was young and had become overexcited, coming in her face at the instant she kissed his cock. Afterwards, with her excitement getting the better of her, she left her breasts out when they had gone and toyed with the nipples for a while before going to search for her next man.

  It was getting harder, with most of the men gathered in groups around the fires and the meal cleared away. Guards were also coming on duty, lone men with dogs. Reasoning that these were probably as much in need of sexual attention as any others, Aisla propositioned one. He accepted and she sucked him off in the thicket, all the while with the dog watching, an experience that gave Aisla an uneasy and shameful but not altogether unpleasant sensation.

  Her tenth was a man visiting the latrine, who wanted to do it between her breasts. She let him, only taking his cock in her mouth at the last moment to prevent Sulitea claiming she had not done her job properly. The eleventh she found the same way, a big man who was a member of the Prince’s own guard. For some reason his cock proved reluctant to stiffen, but after a long session of teasing with her tongue he became erect, only to pull back abruptly as a light appeared.