Vorra’s breathing had grown faster as she spoke and now she was clutching Tesra, pinning her by means of her strong thighs. The liquid of her trickled over Tesra’s face, in her nose and even down the back of her throat, its flavor strong and heady, vaguely sweet and not entirely unpleasant.
‘I told him I would scream and he said it did not matter, that in a few short moments no one would care what happened to me ever again.
‘“You’re a slut, Vorra,” said the arrogant stable-hand to me. “And a slave. And I will prove it now.”
‘He ordered me to take my clothes off and when I hesitated, he lashed me with the whip, tearing open the front of my shirt and leaving an angry trail across my bosom. Tears in my eyes I did as I was told, removing my ruined shirt as well as my pants and boots.
‘“You have a nice body, Vorra,” he said to me as I presented myself for his inspection. “How about we teach you how to use it?”
‘I reminded him of my upcoming legacy and the promise of my freedom, to which he merely laughed. “This is your legacy,” he grabbed at his swollen crotch, “and it is high time you received it.”
‘He made me come to him on my knees, my breasts on fire from the lash of the whip, my cheeks stained with tears, my flesh nude and humiliated. As he lorded it over me, still fully dressed, I was compelled to open his trousers to receive his inflamed member. I was not naïve and I knew what was expected, though the act revolted me. He doubled my shame by stroking my hair, assuring me how good I looked this way down on my knees and how I was a natural sucker of cocks. At a certain point something deep inside me must have kicked in, because I began to feel something in the midst of my degradation, a distinct warmth in my body, a burning itch to have him push me down further and if possible, conquer me completely.
‘“Would you like to swallow, my obedient little cocksucker?” he asked, having pushed himself by this time to the back of my throat. “Would you like to drink my come like the natural slut you are?”
‘I did, but there were other things I needed as well. I did not know whether to be terrified or overjoyed when he shoved me away, telling me it would not end this way, no matter if I wanted it to or not.
‘“On all fours,” he commanded and I obeyed, though he was nothing to me, neither master nor husband.
‘“You’re a born slave whore,” he said, walking about me, draping the whip over my body as he moved. “A sleek and pretty little beast.” I could do nothing but shudder, my head down, my hair in my face, my flesh fully at his mercy.
‘“Beg me to fuck you,” he said, bending to stroke lightly my swollen, exposed pussy lips. The sensations overwhelmed me, and as I knelt for him on hands and knees in the straw I wanted nothing more than to be penetrated by his wicked hardness. Foolish cunt that I was, though, I held out.
‘“I cannot,” I gasped. “Please, don’t make me.”
‘“Oh,” he straightened himself, denying me my pleasure, “but I will.”
‘The whip on my arse and back was ten times what it had been on my tits. He gave no mercy as he tanned my arrogant hide. When at last he stopped there was no doubt what my response would be.
‘“Beg,” he said simply, and I immediately offered up the words, imploring and wailing for him to use me for his pleasure. Through my earlier disobedience, however, I had lost the right to his penis. It was the whip handle that would take my virginity from me, and in the end, brutal as he was I surrendered even to this, lifting my hips, straining against the invading leather device if only to obtain release.
‘He used me thoroughly, leaving me collapsed on the hay, a naked wreck, sore, abused, marked and deeply broken in my spirit. I’d thought my ordeal over, but it had only begun.
‘“Up here, girl,” said he, commanding me back to my knees as if I were nothing more now than a tavern slave. I could barely keep myself righted. He had to put his hand on the top of my head, which left him the other to stroke his magnificent cock. After all I had been, I was denied the right even to receive his load in my mouth, taking it rather over my whipped breasts as well as on my face and in my hair.
‘One final look at me, one final smirk and he was gone. “Happy birthday,” he winked at me from the doorway, offering his parting shot as I knelt, whipped, violated, and covered in man-seed.
‘I cleaned and dressed myself as best I could, using a blanket to hide my torn shirt. At first I was in shock, uncertain how to feel. Then I was angry, and a little fearful he would try to attack me again. When after three days of interacting with me he showed no sign of recognition of what we had been through, however, I turned my thoughts in a different direction. Feeling spurned, I now found I wanted him again.
‘He made me humiliate myself, begging for his attentions. I had to practically throw myself at him and all so he would consider whipping and abusing me a second time. Not that it would or had been true abuse, since I wanted and needed it every step of the way. At last, one night after we had bedded down the horses, he condescended to shoot down my throat, though he would not touch or even look at my hot and willing body.
‘The next day I threw myself at his feet, in tears, begging him to tell me why he had rejected me this way, tearing me apart and stomping on my heart. Did he not know that I loved him? Did he not see that in possessing and mastering me he had won my affection and obedience not merely for one night, but forever?
‘He told me to get up, whereupon he explained that the real problem was my status. He could never love a free woman, only a slave. Having been completely deceived and manipulated by the man, I told him this was no problem as in my heart I was already his slave. He feigned hesitancy, indicating that he would need some real proof. It was thus that I was fooled into turning myself over for manumission. We left that very day for the court, after which, having signed the papers, we found a blacksmith to place upon me the brand. My new master wasted no time in enjoying his prize, taking possession of me on my back in a filthy alley behind the blacksmith’s. Afterwards, a tether about my neck, my hands behind me in manacles, he led me down the main street of Braxia, my body black from the dirt and grease of the alley, my thighs oozing with the fluids of our mutual climax.
‘I considered it my dream come true, to have the man I loved so proud of his domination over me, but my soaring happiness soon turned to crushing defeat as he revealed to me the true intent of our relationship. As it turned out, he had made a bet with some of his friends that he could corrupt me. For the price of a measly bronze coin I had been branded, whipped and used beyond imagination.
‘“What will you do with her now?” had asked one of his drinking buddies.
‘“I hadn’t thought of it,” he shrugged. “Sell her, I suppose.”
‘Which he did, though not after having the monumental gall to collect my dowry from the tavern owner, claiming that as my master he was entitled to all my possessions. Without so much as kissing me goodbye he deposited me for auction, whereupon I was purchased for the first time.
‘So there you have it, noble sister - the story of my fine upstanding birth. And now, if you don’t mind, I think I shall come on your face.’
Tesra received the woman’s orgasm, a sensuous flood that made her feel hot and needy, dirty and deliciously subjugated. And yet at the same time she sensed real power down here, too: the power to arouse, to tempt, to invoke the wrath and desire of masters. It was an art she was determined to learn, if for no other reason than to help her escape and defeat the monstrous, arrogantly handsome captain.
The man she hated - and wanted.
Chapter 4
Tesra did not want the pirate anymore. She only hated him, and with a vengeance that would have done the goddess proud.
‘To a certain extent our relationship will be that of a master and slave,’ he was saying as he stood casually over her, the short, nasty whip in his hands. ‘Though there will be
certain fundamental differences.’
He paused, as if awaiting her response, but not having given her permission to speak he knew that none would be forthcoming. Biting her tongue, Tesra could only squirm uncomfortably. The sadistic Marcellus had added a new dimension to his game of torture this morning, having compelled the proud seer to kneel naked at his feet, her hands shackled behind her back.
It was a convenient posture for him, no doubt, allowing as it did ample opportunity to molest and abuse her helpless breasts. In fact, they already bore a pair of angry welts as punishment for two of her answers deemed unsatisfactory to his idiotic, demeaning questions. If he liked her remarks, by contrast, he would flick the tip of the outrageous leather instrument over the tips of her nipples in what was supposed to be a manner of praise.
‘Among those differences will be your immunity from sexual penetration. Do you know what that is, my shy island sprite?’
Tesra thought of Montrego, having his way with naked, branded Vorra, her well-used body beneath him at the mercy of his hard cock, while she herself watched, fingers stuffed inside herself like a shameless slut. ‘I have eyes,’ she retorted. ‘I’ve seen enough on this ship of yours.’
Marcellus slashed the side of her left breast. What a slow learner she was. ‘Forgive me,’ she hastened to correct herself, the pain shooting cruelly up and down her torso. ‘I meant to say, respectfully, that I have observed the act of sexual penetration... sir.’
This was another new thing this morning; she now had to address him by a title rather than by his name. He, on the other hand, remained free to call her Tesra, Tes, girl, woman, nymph, slut or whatever else struck his fancy. She supposed she counted herself fortunate he did not refer to her as bitch, dog or cunt, as the other girls often were.
Just this morning, prior to being taken out for her humiliating ice water bath in the ocean, she’d witnessed the somber Bothar leash the slave Kasandra, forcing her to heal as he led her up the stairs, the girl’s body flush and eager from having been called his ‘good little pet’.
No doubt she’d been richly penetrated, in every orifice, to her master’s content. Kasandra was said by Vorra to be a simpleminded slut, a natural slave who was only capable of finding her joy in strict, humiliating bondage. Vorra seemed to Tesra to be a similar sort of slave, though she dared not point this out, as she was already sore in her mouth from licking her and the others all night and had no wish to bring any further punishment on herself.
‘You’ve observed it, have you?’ He had that condescending look on his face, the one she so despised. ‘Such a dispassionate expression. Did you feel nothing?’
Tesra hesitated. Another of the new rules was against lying. If he caught her out, the consequences would be severe. ‘I did feel something,’ she admitted, ‘though it was complicated. I didn’t understand it all, sir.’
He nodded approvingly, moving behind her to unchain her wrists. ‘Well said. I shall help you work through it. Place your fingers between your legs and we shall talk of this further.’
The blood drained from her face. ‘Sir?’
‘Put your fingers inside your cunt,’ he elaborated matter-of-factly. ‘Bring yourself to arousal so we may get to the bottom of how you feel about sex.’
The nymph weighed out the pain of another whipping. The man did not know what he was asking, requiring her to bare something to him which was so deeply personal, so delicate and fragile that she had yet to fully grasp its full meaning and implications.
The seconds ticked, counting against her.
‘Tesra, Tesra,’ he sighed, sounding like a disappointed teacher. ‘Whatever am I to do with you? I could threaten to throw you to the sharks, but I wager you’re smart enough to realize I’m saving you for something special. I can, however, make you suffer in ways that might make death seem preferable.’
Tesra touched herself, and the sudden sensation made her jolt.
‘Such a hot little thing,’ he chuckled.
She looked down at his feet, unable to bear the sight of his tattooed chest and those red silk pantaloons, beneath which lay that snake-like rod of flesh she could not keep her mind off.
‘Do you enjoy exciting men, Tesra?’
A question. By the goddess, he’d asked a direct question.
‘I... I do not know, sir. I have known of them such a short time.’
He lifted her chin with the tip of the whip, the device to which she was subject, for beating or pleasuring. ‘Come, come, my little sea-born wench, you’re more intelligent than that. When you see a man, such as myself, how does it make you feel?’
‘I want to run away, sir.’
‘That’s not all. Out with it, girl.’ He ran the whip over her cheek towards her mouth, inducing her to open her lips. He could this and whatever else he wanted because Tesra was his captive, a prisoner of his ship as well as a temporary occupant, if not an outright resident of his slave hold.
‘And I want to hide, as well,’ she managed.
He smacked her hip, delivering an instructive sting. ‘You try my patience, Tesra. Must I order you to your back so I can determine the matter for myself?’
Yes, called her secret self, a voice reckless and insane within her. Do that. Put me to my back; order me to lie for you, spreading my own virgin cunt lips with my fingers for your inspection. Then you will know my heat. My moistness as I crave your whip. Your cock.
‘No sir,’ said quickly. ‘I will tell you. When I saw Montrego... when I saw him...’ the word stuck in her throat. ‘When I saw him inside Vorra, I got... wet.’
‘Wet? Explain yourself.’
She flushed crimson. ‘I... I am not sure, sir. It is like a juice that comes to me, and a powerful itching. I become slick and...’
‘Yes?’ He raised her suddenly lowered chin. ‘The word you seek is ready. The liquid is a natural emission of the female as she prepares to submit to the male. It is how she readies herself to be used.’
Tesra shuddered.
‘Tell me what you saw on deck that made you wet.’
‘H-he was inside her.’
‘Montrego was inside her how?’ he prompted. ‘Explain yourself.’
She relayed the scene, the degrading act of penetration and afterwards how the girl had taken his still hard organ in her mouth, fresh from her rectum and vagina, sucking it dry of the seminal fluid meant for impregnation.
‘You saw the girl used, and you moistened,’ he summed up the matter. ‘As if readying yourself for the same treatment.’
‘A girl, a female, cannot want that,’ Tesra blurted, not caring if he struck her again for speaking out of turn.
The pirate held out his hand to be kissed. He might as easily have struck her with it, and they both knew it. ‘You may beg for mercy.’
Tesra wanted to be strong, to take her punishment even though he might once again knock her to the deck, bringing blood to her mouth. She knew he would resist in her place, that if anyone were to capture him he would accept any torture, even death itself rather than disgrace himself in the presence of his enemies. But Marcellus was a man, different from herself. He did not seem to care what her opinion was of him, nor did he appear to burn for her touch as she did for his. Above all, she could not imagine him wanting or needing to please her the way she wanted to please him.
Tesra’s heart slammed in her chest; something told her she was crossing a line, committing an act which would mark her, signaling once and for all her vulnerability, her dependence. And yet she could not resist placating him in this way. ‘Forgive me,’ she pressed her lips shyly, tentatively to his knuckles.
‘More fervently,’ he commanded.
Tesra’s cunt burned under her fingertips, which she had not yet been allowed to remove from herself. ‘Forgive me, sir,’ she repeated, her voice a hot whisper.
‘That is not how a captive kisses. You must make small nibbles; use your tongue, remind me that you are too small and insignificant a creature to warrant the anger of a pirate king. Suggest to me what other things, as a man, I would rather be doing with your recalcitrant body.’
‘But you said there was to be no sex between us.’ Tesra winced, realizing at once the enormity of her mistake. ‘Sir, forgive me,’ she sought to give his fingertips the suckling of their life, ‘I should not have spoken.’
He withheld the hand she was so desperate to appease. ‘You sound disappointed, my dear. Were you counting on being fucked today?’
‘No! I mean... I... I don’t know, sir.’ He had her in a daze, confused, aroused, and uncertain what, if anything, she wanted from him.
‘You’ve stopped masturbating, captive. Why do you insist on compounding your crimes?’
‘I don’t mean to, sir.’ Tesra had tears in her eyes.
Marcellus was unmoved. ‘Right hand in your cunt, left on your breast. Massage it heavily, manipulate the nipple.’
She was having a hard time staying upright. There was so much moisture now, starting to trickle down the insides of her thighs. If this were to go on much longer she was going to have another one of those explosions called orgasms.
‘What did Vorra and the others do to you last night, captive?’
‘They - they touched me. All over. They made me touch them with my tongue, between their legs.’
‘Did you enjoy licking pussy?’
‘No, sir. I mean, yes sir. Oh, sir,’ she gasped, ‘I don’t know.’
‘Are you lying to me, Tesra?’
The girl shuddered, on her knees before her captor. ‘Sir... I’m going to...’
Marcellus found her back. ‘You were asked a question, girl.’ The whip slash sent her spasming.
‘Yes... yes sir,’ she toppled at his feet, writhing on the wooden deck. ‘I lied... I did enjoy it, all of it. Servicing them, obeying their orders, crawling for them in the filthy hay just like they were my owners.’
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