by Ric Bern
Marcus stood back, nostrils flaring, and brow knit. In a fury he untied her rope belt and cast it to the floor as if it were a serpent. He then gruffly pulled her tunic over her head, leaving her suddenly nude. Kell’s hair was mussed, her chest flushed, her lips swollen from kissing, her neck marked from his nibbles. Marcus stepped to her and gripped her breasts in his hands, pawing at them as a beast, his hardened palms scraping across her snowy skin. His thumbs rolled over her erect nipples, and she bent at the knees, struggling to stand. Nectar trickled down her thigh as her pussy swelled in anticipation.
The praetor looked in her eyes and curled his lips in a wicked grin. He took her by the hand and led her to the bed. Crawling on first, he lifted her on after as though she weighed nothing. Once he sat with his back leaning against the headboard, he laid her across his lap so that her ass was positioned right where his hands could rest easily upon it. Kell stretched out her lithe form perpendicular to her master’s and looked over her shoulder at him, tossing her long mane out of the way and biting on her lower lip in curiosity.
Marcus groped and rolled her rear, pinching and mauling her tight yet curvaceous globes in turn. Without warning he brought down his hand in a brutal swat. Kell lurched and tensed her belly. She let out a whimper, and she noticed something she had never felt before: her pussy tingled in tandem with her ass. Marcus felt a fresh trickle of honey drip onto his leg, and he smiled. He smoothed his hand over the place where a bright red handprint was forming and gently ran his calloused palm over it again and again. He swatted her once more, and she tossed her head from side to side, her hair cascading over her back. She writhed under his touch.
“There, there,” he soothed, “all is well. Everything will be all right.”
Again his palm landed on her rump, this time all the harder. Kell gripped the silk sheets and balled them in her fists, calling out as a tear dripped from her eye. Her pussy flooded with honey, and a spark went off inside her belly as her inner muscles clenched. Instinctively she closed her slender legs together as her wetness flooded out of her and onto her master’s flesh.
“No, Kell,” he said in a mellow tone, “you must keep yourself open. It is my wish.”
The blonde beauty struggled to push up from the sheets, heaving in a lung-cleansing breath. Shuddering, she opened herself as tears cascaded down her cheeks. His hand fell on her inner thigh, fingertips brushing her outer lips. Every fiber of her self-control was needed to not close her legs and relish the sensation. She mewled and twisted her shoulders, but before she could ride out the shockwave his hand fell again, and she crumpled to the sheets. The Nordic girl’s pussy flooded and shuddered in orgasm. Marcus gave a throaty chuckle and soothed his hands over her rear as she writhed in aftershocks. Kell gave a start as something cool and sticky was drizzled on her burning ass.
“Be still,” he said calmly. “It is soothing oil.”
Marcus massaged the slick fluid into her flesh, and Kell relaxed. She looked back on him wantonly and ground her hips into his thigh. The praetor gazed into her sparkling sapphire eyes and slid two lubricated fingers into her sopping sex without warning. Kell moaned and clenched her sheath around his digits, savoring the delicious feel of his knuckles in her pussy. She humped back against his hand as he massaged her inner walls. His other hand fell on her viscous flesh, slapping wetly and forcing her ass to jiggle. Kell heaved a guttering groan and thrust back against his thick fingers. With his commanding hand now in her body she was content to ride against him and accept his discipline. She gyrated her hips back as though his fingers were a safe haven, an anchor for her as she rode the waves of a tempestuous sea.
Marcus spanked his slave girl mercilessly, and she cried out with every swat, her sex clenching his fingers brutally with every strike. Her body pressed back against his firm grip. She wanted to merge with his flesh even as she wept under his mix of pain and pleasure. The praetor turned over his fingers inside her sheath, and he sought out the backside of her clit. After a short while of feeling around her slippery walls, he found a firm, almond-shaped spot and lightly caressed it in a concentric circle as his other hand never paused in its assault.
Kell’s mind was overwhelmed with sensations, and she came. She closed her eyes and milked her master’s hand with her pussy as an orgasm racked her frame. The sensation began in her core and spread out, radiating through her entire body. When she was spent she lay still on Marcus as both of his hands smoothed soothing oils into her flesh. Kell pressed back into his touch, rocking languorously on her knees, enjoying the silky sheets and satiny cushions. Once sated and the last of her tremors had subsided, she shifted her position without any command from her master.
Kell knelt between the praetor’s knees and lifted his scarlet tunic over his head, then cast it aside. The young northern beauty instantly stepped close to kiss her lord and ran her fingers through his dark hair, scratching his scalp where it had grayed. Marcus devoured her lips hungrily, pulling her closer. Kell broke the embrace so she could take in the sight of his nude form. She trailed her fingernails down his chest and noted that his well-toned body bore many scars. Sword slashes and spear pricks left indelible and easily definable marks on a man, and she knew this well. Life in the Northlands was brutal and short. Every warrior she had laid with bore such scars, but none so many as her new lord. She traced each mark of bravery with the soft pad of her fingertip and curled her lips in appreciation of his courage.
The praetor’s cock was thicker than Kell’s wrist and stood up straight and erect. One thick vein at the base sprouted a network of others that bulged lewdly. The blonde girl cupped her palm and hefted her master’s seed sac and was pleased with its weight. She rolled and supported it as she took his shaft in her other buttery hand and tugged his cock up and down. His prick was smooth and soft, yet so hard and firm in the center. She bunched the skin of the shaft over the broad, flat head and back down again. Marcus moaned and flexed his cock, forcing a drop of fluid from the slit. Kell ran her thumb over this and used it as lubricant as she continued to pull on his cock, stroking his length up and down, feeling his pulse course through his prick as she continued to fondle and cup his balls.
Kell scooted back and bent down her neck. She breathed hotly from her nostrils and bathed the sensitive ridge on the head of his cock with warm air. Her tresses fell all about his thighs and caressed his flesh as she lapped at his prick, licking the length of the hard ridge on the underside of his cock. She nuzzled her nose into his root, drinking in his musky scent and pressing her flushed face against the length of him. Quickly she rose up and engulfed the head of his cock in her lips and sucked, swirling her pink tongue around the sensitive rim at the head. She hollowed her cheeks and purred as she slid down his length, taking as much of him in her mouth as she could before pulling back up and back down again, all the while stroking and rolling his tightening sac. Marcus bucked his hips and gripped her hair into his fist, thrusting into her lips until he felt her choke. She lifted her mouth from him, breathless and red-faced, and looked at him wildly.
Marcus pulled his slave girl by her hips and into his embrace so fiercely that he crushed out what little breath was left in her. He savaged her mouth, sucking on her tongue, and pinned her arms at her sides. In a moment he had pulled her into a new position. The candles guttered and oil lamps flickered as she was spun around, facing the massive bronze disc. She straddled his lap, thighs spread wide over his. His cock poked up demandingly between her legs and bobbed against her belly. Kell reached down and tugged on the prick, still slick from her mouth.
“Look in the mirror,” Marcus said with a low breath.
Kell cast her eyes toward the gleaming bronze circle and saw herself stroking the cock between her legs.
“Watch us.” He poured a generous portion of soothing oil on his root from a clay bottle made to appear as a wine amphora.
Kell continued to stroke his cock as he added lubricant. She watched as she slid her hand up and down over the fat veins
, twisted her wrist at the top, and slid back down the base. Her other hand cupped and rolled his full balls, slathering them in oil and enjoying their heft.
Marcus reached down between their bodies and took his prick from her hand. Lifting her a bit, he split the furrow of her sex. Splaying her petals on either side of his manhood, he pressed into her pussy. Her sheath stretched to accommodate his girth as she seated herself on him, inching her weight down on his root. Kell cooed and sighed as she was filled, easing down on his dick, being filled so deliciously. She kept her eyes on the reflection and watched as each bit of him disappeared inside of her. As she adjusted to his cock he filled his hands with oil.
Marcus ran his lubricated palms all over his slave’s flesh. Her breasts and belly shined in the golden candlelight as his restless fingers teased and tempted her nipples. The praetor pulled himself up so he could also see the reflection. His hips began to move as he cupped both breasts, then squeezed them gently, admiring the pertness and weight of each teardrop. Calloused thumbs rolled slow circles over her stiff nubs, working the oil deeper into every part of her. Kell ground down onto the cock invading her pussy, biting her lip and working hard so that his prick would stroke against her correctly. Jolts of pleasure shot from her nipples to her core as his warrior hands manipulated her and oiled her blushing flesh.
With one hand rolling her right bosom, his free hand wandered to their union. Marcus used two fingers to rub circles on the outer rim of her clit, making sure not to touch it directly. This teasing drove Kell wild, and she began to rise and fall on his cock, meeting his thrusts in time. His balls slapped wetly against her, and she panted; the heady mix of wine and lovemaking had the base of her neck throbbing with pleasure. Her master then spanked her soft, pink pleasure center with those two fingers, forcing her to grip his prick with her sheath. She froze in place, grinding down hard, squeezing his dick with her inner muscle.
“Fuck me,” she cried out, twisting atop him.
He used three fingers and swatted her clit more brutally.
She cried out and tensed, holding herself in place. Her sheath clenched and stayed locked. Fingers tangled in her hair and her lips trembled.
“Again,” she whispered.
“Again, Lord.”
“Again, L—” she rasped. His fingers had landed once more before she could finish.
Kell’s hips relented, and she fell over on the bed sideways, climaxing. Her pussy milked his cock for his seed as pinpoints of light assaulted her vision, even with her eyes closed. Tears escaped her lustrous lashes, yet she did not weep. Her lower body clenched repeatedly, and she struggled to breathe. Her oversensitized pleasure nubbin was electrified and throbbing, a sustained orgasm that threatened madness.
Marcus leaned over her and thrust deeply as she lay on her side, legs pressed together and out in front of her. He bucked hard against her as she shuddered. The praetor drained thick ropes of potent seed into her womb, clenching his buttocks tight and pulsing over and again until she had drawn out every last bit of his essence. Cum flooded her sheath and leaked from their union. Still her body quivered for more after he withdrew his purple, aching cock.
In time the pair stopped quaking and melted together on the bed, a pile of oily, sated flesh. Marcus rose to extinguish the lights and to open a window. Fresh, cool air filled the scented chamber, and he took in a great lungful. Resuming his place, Kell crawled to him and laid her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and let the night air reinvigorate them. He let his hands roam her back, allowing them to travel slowly up and down, and she mewled happily at his attention.
Kell reached to hold one of his hands, first kissing his knuckles, each in turn. She looked into his coal-black eyes by what little light came in through the open window. Marcus looped a lock of loose hair behind her ear and gazed back into her sapphire eyes.
“Why did you choose me?” she whispered.
“Choose you?”
“Yes. I was the first one for sale. You didn’t wait to see any others.”
“No, I suppose I didn’t.”
“Well…why me? There were many beautiful girls.”
There was a long silence as he looked at her.
“You are so innocent,” he said. “There is so much wonder in your eyes. You have been untouched by much of the horror that is in this world. But that is not my answer, only an observation. It is because…you look much like, like she did just as I lost her…”
Kell knitted her brow as he trailed off. She began to inquire further as they whispered in the dark, but was cut off.
A great clamor rose up at the chamber door.
Chapter Five
Asmin slowly emerged from her respite. Long lashes fluttering, she stirred to sit up on one elbow. As she moved she let out a little groan. She was sore all over. Moving her hands over her flesh under the furs, she found little nicks and bruises from her flight through the wilderness. Even her face bore scratches from briars. A bit of light pierced the skin flap and illuminated the meager cave. Ulf had left her one of Papios’s caftans folded neatly in a square. He must have found it in the saddlebags, she reasoned. Lying on top was a comb, a vial of jasmine perfume, and a phial of kohl with an applicator used as a stopper. These too would have been among the supplies carried by the now-demised slave wrangler, brought out whenever they reached a new city to assure that the girls were beautifully made up. Odd that Ulf would know them, brute that he was, she surmised. There was much more to this barbarian stranger, and she was meant to know it. Asmin smirked at this and rose to her knees, gathering the materials.
Ulf sat at the fire pit stirring the coals with an iron poker as the gloaming waxed into night. A cone-shaped iron cauldron was suspended over the fire on a tripod, and its contents slowly simmered. The scent of rabbit, carrots, and rosemary met Asmin’s senses as she emerged from the cave.
Ulf stood and turned to face his guest when he heard the hide flap rustle. The girl had declined to don the caftan. She had, however, applied the perfume and cosmetics and combed out her luxurious hair. She sauntered up to her host, rolling her hips as she trod, and placed her smooth palms on his sun-bronzed chest.
“I would begin to pay my debt now.” She purred as she looked into his dazzling green eyes and gently raked her fingernails down his chest, being sure to drag them across his nipples. Her hands continued down his chiseled belly until she reached the band of his breechclout. She looked to his face and sucked on her lower lip like a little girl asking permission as she looped her thumbs in the waistband.
Ulf growled and tangled the fingers of his left hand in her thick hair, pulling her hard against his body. He devoured her lips with his kiss, devastating her bottom lip and moaning as she tugged his garment free. It pooled at his feet in the grass, forgotten in the wilderness. They stood naked and free in the night, the owls and bats the only witnesses. His right hand then went to her rear, and he pulled her tighter to him, roughly caressing her ass, gripping it, squeezing it painfully as he pulled her so close that her breath was squeezed out of her.
Asmin gasped and quickly realized she was no longer in control. She had intended to seduce him playfully, but now she merely wanted to survive. His mouth ravaged hers as he sucked wantonly on her tongue, both hands now on her rear, clutching and pawing, his erect prick digging into her belly.
Ulf released his soul-crushing embrace and looked at her, his gaze afire. Asmin took several steps back, panting. Hair tangled, chest flushed, and lips swollen, she looked at him and was both aroused and terrified. The cock that resided between his tree-trunk thighs was thick, vein-covered, and of such length that it reached past his navel as it bobbed demandingly against his belly. He advanced on her, took her by the hand, and pulled her into his den.
Firelight fought through the covering and bathed their bodies as Asmin lay on the soft bed of furs and Ulf knelt between her spread thighs. He stroked the length of his cock in his fist several times, and she raked his meaty thighs with her sc
ulpted fingernails. Ulf pressed the head of his prick to the dew-covered petals of her pussy and splayed them open so they rested on either side. He then thrust his hips so that the hard ridge on the underside of his cock ran back and forth over her slit and her hooded clit. Asmin shivered and moved her hands to his shoulders as he leaned in and continued humping his cock against her pussy. With each thrust, more nectar slipped from her as his walnut-sized balls nestled against her mound.
Ulf inhaled and stiffened, looking intently at her face. He cupped her chin in his calloused hand and sheathed himself. His gaze locked on hers as he invaded her, and her spine melted under his pantherish stare. He gave a satisfied moan as his bedmate squeezed her inner muscles to accommodate him and stroked his thumb across her cheek. With only a moment’s hesitation he began pumping into her, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist so he could find the angle that best suited him. The veins on his shaft dragged deliciously over Asmin’s opening, and each of his bucking thrusts ended in a grinding against her mound that sought to penetrate her as deeply as possible.
Asmin inhaled sharply as her feminine canal adjusted to this new girth. She had been bedded by many men, but never by a man such as this. She looked up at him as he pistoned into her pussy, and her hands roamed over his chest, shoulders, and arms. She tried to meet his thrusts, but he was pinning her down, and she was simply not powerful enough to keep up. All she could do was lock her ankles together at the small of his back and hold on with her lower body. Every inch of his form was hard muscle, she found as she explored. She delighted in running her fingers through his sandy hair as he bucked his hips into her, feeling her heat rising with every thrust.