Silvana's Quest

by Caroline Swift

  There he was wrong, since Thanon for once had left his terrace to watch the scene developing in the pool of lantern light. It amused him to see his beautiful concubine learning from his servant. As to Odile and Carmela, they were left in abeyance, instruments in their sweating hands and wondering how far their mistress would let them go.

  Suddenly, Silvana slammed into the thighs and lower belly, the strands covering the brand mark, and, lash after lash, worked her way up across the hollowed solar plexus - Damiana's phrase - to the arch of the rib cage. The vixen began to slobber around her gag, cursing the blonde unintelligibly, until the thongs struck the corded breasts. That sent the head back, the torso jerking as if there was a hope of escaping the leathers. Bouncing and flattening under each blow, the trussed mounds turned carmine, the veins throbbing like snared worms. Silvana laid into the writhing body with a vehemence Haroun had rarely seen her use on a naked female; it could have been Damiana at work in Sefket's disciplinary dungeon. He let it continue for a while, at least until the bulges were hyacinth purple, and then muttered a word to the frenzied avenger.

  "Perhaps the quirt would be more advisable, mistress," he counselled. "You know the palace rules applying to a naked slave's breasts."

  Silvana nodded and desisted, as if called to order by a senior palace overseer. With no intention of discarding the six-thong, she went round to the girl's rear. What she gave the juddering buttocks again surpassed anything Haroun had seen for some time. She flogged hard, the mass of welts left by her whip testified to her white-hot fury. And then she ceased.

  "Yes, I think that should do," agreed the castrated one or spado, as Mila used derisively to refer to him. He turned to the two nudes behind him. "Now, it's your turn. Just a little practice for tomorrow night. To get your hand in. You, first."

  He held up the lantern for Carmela to come forward and give Mila what Mila had given her, chained against the teeth of the iron harrow. Only now, the stifling Chamber of Gratification was replaced by a starry beach. Tongs in hand, Carmela did not spare the slut.

  Silvana relished the sight of the metal jaws gripping, stretching and twisting Mila's teats, the victim screaming mutely, grinding her teeth into the gag. Even more exciting for the Mistress of Zahra was then to see Carmela's ponderous figure bending down to wrench the whip-scorched labia, just as the vixen had vexed hers.

  Then Odile took over. With a look of glowing joy, she speared the needles slowly into Mila's thrashed and rasped mammaries, saving the longest of the silver slivers for the nipples. Grasping the garrotted tits, she took particular care over those final insertions, stabbing the metal through the vent and deep into the lymph. She halted when only the last skewer's jewelled boss was quivering like a star above a purple hillock. Mila was left to stare down at her punctured udders and the gems pulsating in her teats. But not for long. She felt the two sweating bodies close in and the dildos drilling into her to collide in her entrails. The avengers took their time, the clit-nub on each dildo finally bringing them to fulfilment, their shrieks of pleasure submerging the wretch's stifled sobbings. Punishing Mila's usually overworked but now starved vagina, Odile ensured it was deprived of any chance of orgasm.

  The rehearsal over, Silvana kissed her two helpmates, had their glistening sex rods withdrawn and sent them to bed again, but this time together; she felt they had earned that pleasure, although Odile would have preferred being summoned to her new mistress's arms. Placid as ever, Haroun insisted, to Silvana's irritation, on releasing Mila's breasts and withdrawing the crop of needles, which caused further frantic writhings, as the blood seethed back into the breasts. He then applied borax to the globes, leaving the crestfallen sufferer to recover, the gag still in place, no one particularly anxious to listen to her curses and blasphemy.

  Silvana joined Haroun on the beach and together they strolled back to the palatial residence where, after a curt greeting from Thanon, she was laid crosswise again over the same disused saddle on the trestle, flogged and fucked. That she preferred to being suspended by a rod through the nipples a second time. Having held her orgasms in check through most of the evening, she came with such aberrant violence that it amazed both men.

  Exposed from her brand mark to the dimples at the base of the spine, she fell asleep on the saddle, in a spent houri's paradise, to dream of the morrow evening.

  The Retribution

  Late the following day, storm clouds had gathered, darkening much of the beach, yet touching the waves with sunlight like flashes of silex. Such changes, bringing rain, were refreshing for they replenished the water supply from the hill and lessened the heat, but also unwelcome since the inmates and staff were obliged to work indoors - except for Mila who remained, like the bitch she was, under downpour or broiling sun between the palms or on the end of her chain at the stake where she was fed by the scullion with leftovers from a trough.

  The others' supper over - falafels, quails, wild mushrooms and sherbert - Silvana prepared for the public evening. She had Mila hooded up in a leather mask that left the mouth available for duty behind the gash in the leather. The long table was then cleared to accommodate the slattern who was to be the treat of the evening. The two chains hanging from the central beam were positioned wide apart to stretch the victim's legs and leave only the shoulders in contact with the table's surface. Silvana had planned the evening with care.

  The entire household was assigned duties, the kitchen helps preparing refreshments as the guests began to arrive after hurrying across the beach in robes wet from the sudden downpour. They were given seats from which they could watch the session, and slaves to service them. It was Silvana who greeted them, caparisoned in the sparse regalia befitting her rank - boots, gauntlets, veil and polished body straps -- while behind her stood Odile and Carmela, both naked and powdered, each fitted out again with the delicious double dildo. Sporting a new turban and silken pantaloons, Haroun was to supervise the proceedings, the bondage and the punishment itself. Fahdel was also on duty, charged with manhandling and chaining the evening's victim. Although she had been sponged off, oiled and freed of her throat plug (the nobles appreciated screams), Mila was in a deplorable state after her previous night's ordeals; that was how Silvana wanted her to appear - haggard. Moreover, the viper seemed to have abandoned some of her pugnacity - as well she might in view of what she was about to receive. The bitch was outnumbered and knew when she was outmanoeuvred also.

  Kneeling in the centre of the lighted brothel, she heard, through the mask that Odile had strapped on tight, Silvana begin. "Now, Mila dear, you always enjoyed playing the overseer in the precincts before a gathering of nobles, didn't you? Well, tonight it's the other way round. It's you who are going to show us all how to take rather than inflict discipline. After all, Mila, you're a slave now, no longer that conceited, would-be mistress. We've waited so, so long for this occasion, you know. Last night was merely a private moment together. So do your best to entertain our noble courtiers-in-residence and us. And yourself - if you can."

  In the candlelight she was led to the table, her eyes widening behind the leather slits to see so many onlookers, some on cushions, others on the backs of slaves on all fours. The sight of Odile and the weighty Carmela, both grinning, alarmed her as much as did the array of whips and instruments behind them. To be the victim rather than the victimizer daunted her.

  With a heave from Fahdel, the rain-soaked body lurched and fell across the tabletop. Despite an initial struggle, the two slaves freed the arms for the guard to stretch them wide and manacle the wrists to the bondage hasps bolted on the edge. Beginning to panic, the wretch found her neck forced back over the same verge to have it strapped firmly to the wood, the head bent vertically downwards. Brutally, the man splayed the slender legs and, mounting the table, encircled each ankle with the chains dangling from the crossbeam spanning the brothel's ceiling. Using force he hauled each limb aloft in turn until only the shoulder bla
des rested on the table. As the thighs parted to the extreme reach of the pelvis, the slut's anus stared out, the viscous vulva peeling apart to reveal the oval hole - apertures every cock in the palace had explored countless times. The dark rolls of flesh, Silvana noted, were still blotched from Carmela's tongs applied the previous night. What the drab had coming to her would make her quickly forget such preliminaries; she was in for far more sophisticated punishment.

  Silvana watched the upended carcass tension, the breasts lolling pallidly over the collar bones, seemingly none the worse for Odile's needling, in fact in a vulgar way, the naked slag was not unattractive.

  "I trust you like the position, Mila dear," the Mistress of Zahra simpered, tapping the inside of the martyr's thigh. "You look so defenceless like that. Of course, you already know us all by now, don't you, my chick? Here's Carmela who doesn't really hold you in her heart after what you did to her on that night of our arrival. And here's our sweet Odile whom you helped to send to the prisons..."

  "That's a damn lie," Mila croaked, held tight by the strap Fahdel had buckled to the last hole, almost strangling the throat, uttering curses.

  "In any case, tonight we're really going to enjoy ourselves at your expense, my little pomegranate. We intend to pay you back for some of the things you did to us."

  "I've done nothing wrong, and if I did, I was told to," the charcoal eyes blazed.

  "True, here you haven't misbehaved. You haven't had the chance. In fact, you haven't had much of your usual sport since you were demoted, have you? Well, now it's our turn. That's why I had you brought down here. We're going to give you the thrashing of a lifetime. Sweet vengeance for torments past. Like that we'll be on the way to getting even, won't we?"

  Silvana trailed her whip over the famished, craving vagina, watching the wet labia quiver. "Of course, Mila, there's no question of letting you spend, I'm afraid. You'll just have to hang in abeyance, won't you? Remember that night when you left me on the verge of orgasm, hooked to the wall by my tit rings in that dark passage way outside Precinct Four?"

  "Remember? No, I don't. Why should I remember, you cheap slag?" The voice was beginning to weaken under the tension of the chains, the throat strap chafing as she shouted.

  "You nearly wrenched the rings out of me, that's why," Silvana hissed, splaying the arse cheeks with her whip haft. "Hadn't it been for that toehold I found in the stone wall, I would have ripped my teats. Just as well Damiana found me in time, after you'd lashed me and I began to sag. But here, my lily of the valley, no one's going to turn up to help you."

  "And remember the wire whip you used on me, Mila?" Odile put in.

  "That you deserved and more, you decrepit, worn-out whore!" The victim becoming barely audible, Silvana decided enough had been said. Moreover, the guests were growing restless; they had come to enjoy a good flogging and screams, not idle female recrimination.

  The moment had come for punishment, and punishment the whoresome bitch was going to receive. And, the blonde muttered to herself, "In plenty, until she begs for mercy."

  Haroun retired to lean against the wall of wattle reeds and observe the coming ordeal which, to judge by the flush on the slave mistress's downy cheeks, her flared nostrils and the state of her nipples, promised to be as ferocious as it would be long-drawn-out. Fascinated, he watched how Silvana passed her gloved hand over Mila's thighs and quivering buttocks, as if caressing them into readiness. Since Mila had never been one to shy away from drawing blood, he assumed the blonde avenger would be equally remorseless. A female bleeding from the whip never failed to please him, in the same way as it pleased his great master.

  Bracing her sinews, the upended victim wondered anxiously where what she considered 'a hateful tow-haired parvenu of a peasant' was going to start on her. In her former slave days, she had managed to avoid too much attention being afforded to her open crotch and the all-too-sensitive underhang of the breasts. But the position she found herself in at present boded ill. The earlier omissions were clearly about to be remedied.

  It was not Silvana, however, who commenced the session. After consulting Haroun, she offered the rump and crotch to Odile to thrash and the mammaries to Carmela, preferring to watch her companions wreak their vengeance first. Licking their lips, the two girls came forward armed with whips they themselves had selected from the rack; they seemed as anxious to begin the flagellation as the guests were eager to see the upraised nude flagellated.

  But the mistress of ceremonies let time pass to increase Mila's apprehension. Facing the trembling hindquarters, half the size of her own, she stared down at the fluttering vulval gash between the thighs and found it nondescript, unappetizing but well worth a flogging.

  She turned to the eunuch. "I think, Haroun, we'll have this cunt splayed, as Damiana used to do with ours. We have the necessary clamps and thigh-chain, don't we?"

  "We do, mistress. But, if I may suggest it, perhaps it would be better to leave the distension until later, once the flesh has been warmed up and the clitoris ready for punishment. And the nipples could be hasped too. But after the interval and sweetmeats, perhaps..."

  Silvana nodded, conceding the point although unaware the servant had foreseen a break in the proceedings, the courtiers needing pampering. She motioned to her sisters to start.

  As the two whips rose, hissed and, almost simultaneously, fell, she strode round to Mila's inverted head. Avoiding Odile's lash burying itself moistly into the crotch and Carmela's slicing into the breasts, she jammed her flooded sex into the pert face she loathed.

  "Out with that toad's tongue of yours, bitch!" she ordered above the thud of the leathers. "Lick me as you made us lick you, and keep your groans to yourself, inside that slave hood. This time it's going to be me who spends into your maw. Make sure you swallow every damn drop of my spurt. If not, I'll... I'll..." The threat evaporated in slushings and groans.

  Despite the lashes descending unhurriedly in regular rhythm, the tongue emerged through the slit in the head hood to lap obsequiously. The chained one knew she had no option and that worse was to follow, her stark-naked torso being positioned to expose a female's most delicate zones. Indeed she herself had driven countless slaves to adopt the same posture when thrashing them covertly in deserted oubliettes. She realized such joys were no longer hers. On the contrary, unless she could somehow escape Zahra and this blonde bitch, she would remain at the whip's painful end rather than that which had given her so much pleasure.

  Her time as a slave in the past had taught her how best to deal with the vigour of the fiercest of lashes - one should concentrate on sex. Managing to choke back her cries and do just that, Mila delved into the blonde's vaginal trench, flicking and sucking the clitoris, tugging on the flabby labia with her teeth; the sooner the arrogant upstart climaxed, the more hope there was of a moment's repose, even of clemency. And finally she would be returned to the stake outside where she could rack her brains as to how to free herself...

  Mila could hardly know that she was in for one of the longest spells of pain it was possible to inflict on a female without rendering her unserviceable.

  Silvana took her time again, forcing the whipped slut to labour strenuously on what Haroun called 'that celebrated candle stub of a clitoris'. Relishing the swish and thud of the whips as much as the trembling whore-tongue lapping the crotch, the Mistress of Zahra showed the prisoner no leniency, giving her orders, such as 'Lap me from anus to my brand mark' and 'siphon the clit...' and like injunctions, allowing Mila's mouth to leave her only when the whips forced out the screams. Almost too suddenly for her liking, Silvana sensed the first of her orgasms approaching like a cyclone over the northern desert. Her heartbeat increasing and pounding, breath ragged, the blonde exploded over the leather slave hood.

  The spasm burst from way back inside her and seemed to plunder her guts. Yelling out her lust - something the visiting nobles remembered
her doing when they tortured her up at the palace - her head fell forward as her colleagues ceased their whipping. As if to moor herself to something solid, Silvana gripped Mila's flayed breasts Carmela had welted into violet ridges and furrows; she could feel through the gloves the trounced nipples throbbing as if about to burst. She hoped the slug was suffering as deeply as she, Silvana, was rejoicing...

  "Keep licking, keep sucking me, bitch," she gasped hoarsely. "I'm far from finished with that tongue..." And to Odile: "Slam into those poisonous buttocks, sweet, and...oh...oh, by Locrana..." The volcano erupted again, the second climax announcing itself by resounding out on to the beach, probably even to Thanon's dwelling. Then she rode through a third orgasm, equally powerful. Haroun who had seen much of her sexual prowess both up at the palace and in Thanon's bedchamber, could hardly believe the potency of the girl's frenzy as she ground her crotch into the downturned, hooded face until she was sexually slaked.

  Tottering to the wall, she ordered the flagellations to continue and the implements of flesh torture to be prepared, at the same time checking that the double dildos were firmly strapped to her two assistants' groins. Then, surfacing, she took stock of her victim. Much of Mila's flesh had become livid and her mouth, no longer needed for service, wailed, yelled and at last whimpered for pardon. Finally, after a further dozen lashes from Odile, the welted one slumped, Thanon's mistress perceiving her enemy had reached the limit of endurance.

  Silvana brought the episode to an end for mint cordials, halva and lucuma to be served to the guests, many of whom were entangled with the slaves who strove to do what was required of them without choking. Almost all the brothel's inmates were already dripping with sweat, sperm and spittle and were beginning to suffer from over exertion and pain.

  Towards midnight, the slender, scourged body still suspended from the brothel beam, was revived for further use, the beautiful blonde overseer of Zahra having recovered her ardour; so much so that she felt, as agreed earlier, the time had come for Haroun to fetch the labial clips and nipple links. Before its owner collapsed, she wanted that bloated sex distended and given what the three women, leave alone the rapacious, lusting guests, believed the bitch should experience while she was flailed further and reamed. Fresh excitement returned to the wattled room as Silvana repeated her earlier proposal.