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Innocent

Page 18

by Aishling Morgan


  ‘The third plant?’

  ‘I don’t know. They are burning something, and use a huge quantity of faggots. It is the same in Blue Zoria, with whole thickets used for the mills. Maybe they melt something, or boil something. Bulzar must have books. Perhaps if we are allowed down into the house you could find out.’

  ‘I can’t read.’

  ‘Show me then, but be careful. I don’t want a whipping for your curiosity.’

  ‘He’ll probably whip us anyway, just for sport. He’ll certainly have the troll fuck us.’

  Cianna took a sip from her goblet, swallowed the rich red wine and went back to the task of sucking Bulzar’s cock, which she was sharing with a Vendjomois girl, Ki’Lae. The three of them were on the couch, Bulzar seated at the centre, the girls lying to either side, their heads in his lap, drinking and paying court to his genitals. In front of them, Babalyn lay, tied across a chair, pop-eyed and slack mouthed, drool running from her open mouth, her big breasts swinging and slapping against the chair to the motion of Voqual’s pushes as he fucked her.

  It had been her turn to be fucked by the troll, a fate allotted to a different girl each evening, while the others served and attended to Bulzar’s needs. In addition to having his cock and balls sucked, these included a great deal of fondling, watching them play together, fucking them and as often buggering them. They were also beaten frequently, with brisk, across the knee spankings, sometimes beltings or the cane, if he felt a heavy punishment was in order.

  Each evening the program changed, but it invariably included one or other of the girls being tied down for the troll. Babalyn had been terrified, and had had to be gradually coaxed into taking her share. At first she had not even been able to touch Voqual’s skin, but within three days she had found the courage to touch, then to lick at his monstrous cock, and at last to take it in her vagina. Now, tied securely in place, with her bottom raised and spread by the chair and ropes, she was panting out her second fucking by him.

  It was a view Cianna found it impossible not to enjoy, just from the state of breathless, helpless ecstasy girls got into with the huge cock up their tuppennies. Voqual was always gentle, holding the girls by the hips with hands so large that even with Babalyn’s ample bottom his thumbs where able to hold her crease wide while his finger were beneath her body. He also made a point of fondling her breasts as they hung down over the edge of the chair, and of tickling her anus and clitoris with his nails, either by instinct or training. In either case, the treatment made the girls come.

  Once fucked, with the vast amount of sperm Voqual seemed capable of producing each evening well inside her, the girls would be released and allowed to join in the games. Often this would involve licking up the mess on the fucked girl’s body and also the floor, which was what Cianna was anticipating as she sucked on Bulzar’s cock.

  Voqual was getting there, humping his cock into Babalyn’s rear with ever greater urgency. Her mouth went wider, hanging loose, spittle running out freely. She began to pant, clutching at her breasts, pushing her buttocks up to the thrusts. Voqual grunted and she screamed, even as thick, yellow-white fluid exploded from around his cock.

  ‘Lick them clean, Cianna,’ Bulzar order casually. ‘Zae-Sha, on my cock.’

  The second Vendjomois girl took Cianna’s place. Voqual’s cock was out, standing proud over Babalyn’s bottom. Cianna crawled quickly over, and began to lick it, up the shaft, then sucking the fat head into her mouth to drain out the sperm. Voqual took it calmly, allowing her to clean his cock and balls without more than a low grunt. Licking up the sticky sperm from the rough yellow-grey flesh, Cianna found her own need growing higher and higher. She had not been fucked, or licked, giving her full attention to Bulzar’s cock.

  With Voqual’s cock and balls quite clean, Cianna turned her attention to Babalyn, whose whole rear was sodden with come, smeared across her bottom and up between her cheeks. It had pooled in her anus, with a thick clot of it hanging from the mouth of her sex and drips hanging among the half-grown stubble of her pubic hair. Cianna could smell it, and Babalyn’s sex too, strong and musky. Poking out her tongue, she leant close, dabbing at one full dark cheek. Babalyn sighed, pushing her bottom further out. Cianna began to lick, cleaning the smooth brown skin of sperm, swallowing at intervals as she went.

  Soon Babalyn’s whole bottom was a wet, shiny ball, glossy with Cianna’s saliva, only the crease still filthy. Her legs were wide, stuck out to either side, her bottom a fraction lifted, giving Cianna access to every crevice of her body. Now fully aroused, with a strong, rude need, Cianna pushed out her lips, making sure Bulzar and the Vendjomois girls saw, before kissing Babalyn full on the open hole of her sex. Sucking, she drew out the troll sperm, until it filled her mouth, sat up, showed the others what she had done, and swallowed.

  Bulzar grinned, the girls giggling and pushing closer to their master, who had a trim brown bottom in each hand, his fingers inside wet, open holes. Cianna went back to Babalyn’s sex, burying her face in the wet flesh. Licking hard, her set her own thighs apart, touching herself, gently, stroking her pubic mound and beneath her buttocks, teasingly close to the yet more sensitive areas of her vagina and anus. Her nose was in Babalyn’s hole, her lips around the big clitoris, kissing it. Babalyn screamed at the treatment, then again as Cianna sucked on the little bud, mercilessly hard, all the while wiggling her nose in the slimy hole.

  With Babalyn coming under her tongue, she could no longer resist her own need. Her fingers went to her sex, one up the sopping hole, another to her clitoris. She began to rub, still feeding on Babalyn’s sex, only to be overcome by a sudden, desperate urge to fuck her friend. Snatching at one of the thick, beeswax candles that illuminated the scene, she blew out the flame and jammed it unceremoniously up Babalyn’s hole. Babalyn squealed at the rough treatment, and gasped as Cianna began to fuck her, pushing the candle well in.

  Bending down, Cianna buried her face between Babalyn’s buttocks, linking the tight black anus and burrowing her tongue into the hot, slimy hole at the centre. She reached out, grabbed another candle, blew and pushed it to Babalyn’s spit-wet bottom ring. It went up, Babalyn crying out again in protest, of which Cianna took no notice, stuffing the thick candle well up, until perhaps a hand span protruded from the straining ring.

  Cianna climbed to her feet, settling herself above Babalyn bottom. The angle was wrong, but two hard slaps took care of that, and she slid herself down onto the candle in Babalyn’s sex, pressing her clitoris to the anal one and holding it in place. She began to rub, herself and Babalyn at the same time. Her spare hand went back, to her own bottom and between the cheeks, finding her bottom ring and tickling it as she masturbated, looking down at Babalyn’s bouncing buttocks.

  Babalyn was panting, almost as far gone as she had been with the troll’s cock up her. Cianna laughed at the sight, delighting in her control of her friend’s bound and helpless body, in the thought of the twin holes straining around the candle shafts, the fat breasts bouncing and quivering to the motion, the equally fat bottom, wobbling as it was fucked. Her finger went up her bottom, deep in, to find the cavity slimy and hot, and she was coming, crying out in ecstasy, jamming her clitoris onto the smooth wax of the candle, calling Babalyn’s name and at last sinking slowly to the floor, the candle pulling from her sex.

  When she looked up, it was to find Bulzar smiling happily and both the Vendjomois girls with sperm on their faces and in their hair. They were still licking at his cock, and masturbating, both of them, with one hand each back between their thighs and their bottoms cocked up, the holes penetrated on Bulzar’s fat fingers. Cianna watched them come, then set to work on Babalyn’s ropes.

  Wine was drunk, the flagon passed from hand to hand rather than served, while the girls cleaned themselves up, taking turns to lick up what mess remained on each others bodies, and Bulzar’s. Finally Bulzar stood, stretched contentedly and jerked his thumb towards the stairs. Zae-Sha and Ki’Lae scampered up immediately, followed by Cian
na and Babalyn. As she reached the landing Cianna heard Bulzar giving a terse order to the troll, and Voqual’s grunt of understanding. A moment later the door to the villa slammed shut.

  Cianna walked into Bulzar’s bed chamber, a square room, comfortably furnished, in which he had now decided all four girls should sleep as well as he himself. Cianna guessed that this was done merely for the pleasure of having his playthings to hand, as he would occasionally fuck one or another of them in the night, and also liked his morning erection sucked.

  She took her turn at the wash stand, then curled herself onto the mat, watching as the others got ready. All seemed satisfied, and presently the breathing of Ki'Lae beside her had become low and rhythmic, then Zae-Sha’s, even as Bulzar began to snore gently. Reaching out, Cianna prodded Babalyn. In the dimness she saw her friend shift, then rise to one elbow.

  Both rose, padding slowly to the door, where the landing was bathed in the dull orange glow of a night lamp. Babalyn took the little oil lamp and scampered quickly down the stairs, Cianna behind her. At the bottom they paused, listening for a moment, then quickly pushed through the beaded curtain that closed off the room in which Bulzar worked. Scrolls lay on the desk, and carefully stacked pieces of charta, each indicted with symbols meaningless to Cianna. Babalyn glanced at each, frowning.

  ‘Inventories, pay roll, a recommendation for a post at another mill,’ she read out. ‘These are the work of the normal running of the mill, no more.’

  ‘What of this?’ Cianna asked, pointing to a massive cabinet of polished wood.

  Cianna moved the lamp, illuminating the spines of books within the cabinet, visible through the carved screen of the doors. Briefly she ran her eyes along the shelf.

  ‘Ideal,’ she announced. ‘Here, the original designs for the mill. Here, a handbook on the manufacture of black powder. Here, another, listing the characteristics of different mixtures.’

  Cianna reached out, tugging at the handle, to find it locked.

  ‘His keys are in his robe,’ she said, ‘I’ll fetch them.’

  ‘A moment,’ Babalyn answered her, ‘there may be more here.’

  She returned her attention to the table, scanning quickly through the pieces of charta. Cianna watched, envying Babalyn’s ability to take in at a glance what she could not understand with any amount of study. Babalyn stopped, holding a piece of charta.

  ‘Here,’ she said, ‘a letter Bulzar was writing earlier, to the head of public works in Kea. It states that he can take no more dung unless he is allowed to clear an area of jungle for the growing of something, a tree I think. Yes, it must be. That is it. To take more dung he needs more wood.’

  ‘So?’ Cianna demanded.

  ‘So,’ Babalyn replied. ‘That is your third ingredient, and explains why no wagons arrive at the third plant, only carts carrying faggots. The ingredient is wood, but we know they burn it, so it must be ash.’

  ‘Or charcoal,’ Cianna answered, ‘or even smoke. Smoke is probable. Sulitea uses smoke for several effects.’

  ‘If it was smoke, they wouldn’t use wagons to take it to the mixing plant,’ Babalyn pointed out.

  ‘Look further,’ Cianna said, only to stop abruptly as a creak from elsewhere in the house.

  Quickly they pushed out through the bead curtain and in at another. A wooden bench ran across the far wall, with a single round hole at the centre. Babalyn nodded at it and Cianna quickly climbed up, sinking into a squat over the hole. Holding up the lamp, Babalyn leant herself casually against the wash stand. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and a moment later Bulzar appeared.

  ‘You, the Ice Cannibal, need a friend to hold your hand in the dunny?’ he chuckled. ‘Never would I have thought it! And what a remarkable position, showing everything. Do you normally pee like that?’

  ‘Yes,’ Cianna answered, blushing faintly. ‘How else would I?’

  ‘Seated, like everyone else,’ he replied. ‘Or am I being foolish. Perhaps you are down here for another purpose.’

  ‘No,’ Cianna answered quickly. ‘We merely needed to go at the same time.’

  ‘You don’t fool me,’ he went on. ‘You came down here to watch each other, and to play a little, didn’t you? Don’t think I don’t know the sort of dirty tricks girls like you get up to.’

  ‘You’re right, we did,’ Babalyn said before Cianna could answer. ‘We’re sorry.’

  ‘No cause for apology,’ he said. ‘Still, fucked by Voqual and licked to climax yet eager for more. That is remarkable. Continue then. It would amuse me to watch.’

  ‘What we were going to do?’ Cianna asked.

  ‘Naturally,’ he said, ‘I adore the sort of intimacies girls bestow upon one another. What were you planning, to take it in each others hands as it comes out? Mouths even?’

  ‘Hands,’ Babalyn said quickly.

  ‘Do it then,’ he laughed, ‘but turn first. Pretty though your cunt is, I prefer the rear view, so that I can see every detail.’

  Now blushing hot, Cianna swung herself around, sticking her bottom out over the hole. Her bladder felt ready, if not full, and she tensed herself, letting go to hear the tinkle of her pee in the pot beneath. She had her eyes shut, and she could feel the heat of embarrassment in her cheeks.

  ‘Come, Babalyn,’ Bulzar said. ‘Get ready.’

  The tinkling noise stopped. Pee spattered Cianna’s bottom. She looked back, finding Babalyn behind her, squatted down with her hands stuck out. Bulzar was grinning, and his cock was hanging out of the side of his breechcloth. Squeezing again, she forced her pee out into Babalyn’s cupped hands. Her anus had started to pout, and she stopped abruptly. Look back, she found Bulzar grinning, his cock now half stiff in his hand.

  ‘Do it,’ he said, ‘there is no room for shyness here.’

  ‘I have,’ Cianna answered.

  ‘You have peed, yes,’ he said. ‘You sadden me, Cianna. I understood I was to have full and willing use of you.’

  ‘You do,’ she answered.

  ‘Then do it,’ he went on. ‘Dung in Babalyn’s hands, as I’m sure you intended.’

  ‘You want to watch me do my dung in Babalyn’s hands?’ Cianna asked in disbelief.

  ‘That is what you intended, wasn’t it?’ he asked, now with a slight irritation in his voice.

  ‘It was,’ Babalyn said softly. ‘Come, Cianna, do it. He is right. We should hold back no secrets from him.’

  Cianna nodded, her face burning hot, unable to find words. Her anus was already pouting, and she could feel the load in her back passage, eager to get out. With a sob, she let go, feeling her ring open and a heavy, firm piece squeeze out. Unable to stop herself, she looked down, to see it coiling into Babalyn’s cupped hands, beneath the lips of her sex, on which two drops of piddle still hung.

  She squeezed again, pushing out her full load into Babalyn’s hands. Bulzar was now masturbating a full erection, his eyes glued to her rear view, her gaping bottom ring and the filth that Babalyn was holding. Her anus closed, and she looked down again, to find the full, steaming mound in Babalyn’s hands.

  ‘Now do it,’ Bulzar grunted, ‘in with your bottom, and rub your cunt.’

  Cianna hesitated, shaking her head in her shame and to fight down the lewd feelings that the sheer intimacy of what she was doing had triggered. Bulzar’s cock was pointed right at her, furiously hard. Hanging her head, she reached down, for her tuppenny, parting the lips to find her clitoris, then to dip a finger into her hole, finding herself shamefully wet. With a sigh she began to rub, firmly, bringing herself quickly towards climax. Her resolve snapped, and she found herself doing as she had been ordered, lowering her bottom, slowly. Her bottom cheeks touched the squashy, warm mess in Babalyn’s hands. She sank lower, and it was in her crease, oozing up between her buttocks and over her sex, and she was coming, sitting down firmly in Babalyn’s hands as it hit her. The hot, slimy dung squashed out over the fullness of her bottom. She cried out in ecstasy, wiggling herself in it, squirming her filthy bu
ttocks into Babalyn’s hands, peak after peak of her orgasm tearing through her, until she could hold it no more. Her knees slid apart and she sat down on the hole, her eyes closed, her head hung in shame. It had felt glorious, too good to be denied, knowledge that made the sting of her shame stronger still.

  She looked round, to find Babalyn making a wry face at her. Bulzar had come, splashing sperm across Babalyn’s hair and over Cianna’s buttocks, and was already at the washstand.

  ‘Wash me, please,’ Cianna asked.

  Babalyn nodded and went to fetch a bowl, washing Cianna’s bottom as Bulzar looked on, apparently simply enjoying the intimacy of their act.

  The following morning, Bulzar once more went to Kea, returning two days later. Immediately Cianna and Babalyn were called to him in his work room. His expression was worried, and Cianna found a lump rising in her throat.

  ‘Matters are worse than I had feared,’ he stated as he settled himself onto a couch.

  ‘How so?’ Cianna demanded.

  ‘The King has played a clever gambit,’ Bulzar went on, ‘one which not only satisfies the lust of the rabble for a bloody revenge, but allows them direct participation. It also minimises his own expenses, both in terms of cost and the use of men. He has offered a boon, of one thousand standard, to whoever brings you in alive, both of you, but eight hundred for you alone, Cianna, as it is assumed that you committed the actual murder.’

  ‘Killing,’ Cianna corrected him, ‘of a torturer, a mad animal.’

  ‘As you say,’ Bulzar went on. ‘Now, having been a fighting girl, it will not surprise you to learn that this offer has been taken up with enthusiasm, with every bravo in Kea and beyond keen to win the prize. There is also extensive betting.’

  ‘Jelkrael will be placing his bets as we speak, I imagine,’ Babalyn managed.

 

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