by Faith Eden
‘And how do you suggest we do that?’ Savatch quizzed. ‘We can’t try anything in broad daylight, disguises or no disguises. Someone is bound to see through us.’
‘Not if you’re going about the same business as they are,’ Jekka said pointedly. ‘We’ve been watching their line of march for two days now and I think I see a weakness we can exploit. They have no rear guard as such, just a few troopers who ride with a cart that carries water and a small band of their pony slaves that they use to relieve any who appear to be suffering badly on the road.
‘If a handler decides that any girl has reached her limit, he simply pulls her off the road and, when the rearguard party comes up to her, she is relieved between the shafts, given water and allowed to ride on the wagon for a few miles as she recovers her strength.
‘During the changeover, that little party tends to fall some distance from the main column and catch them up later, because they can travel that much faster. That makes them very vulnerable and, if we choose our moment carefully and move when they are out of sight of the rest, we could easily overpower them and take their place just before nightfall.’
‘And what about the slave girls,’ Alanna said. ‘You don’t think they might give the game away?’ Jekka shook her head.
‘They won’t be able to, not if you keep their bits in and order them away from the other pony slaves. By the time anyone realises that they’re still gagged, we’ll have found where they’re holding Corinna and hopefully got her away almost as soon as it grows dark.’
‘You say “we”, Jekka,’ Alanna said suspiciously. ‘Just who do you mean by “we” and how do you propose we’ll have identified Corinna by that time?’
‘Well, if we’re going to move in the main column without arousing suspicion, then the only two of us who could hope to pass as pony girls would be you and me,’ Jekka said sombrely. ‘However, I have no right to ask that one of your rank should put herself in such danger, so if necessary I shall do it myself. With Ceth here,’ she said, jerking a thumb at the young Illean, ‘playing the part of my handler and a couple of his friends acting as Vorsan escorts.’
‘No!’ Savatch cried out, pulling himself slowly to his feet. ‘No, I forbid it. It is foolhardy and all that will happen is that more of us will fall into Fulgrim’s clutches.’
‘If we don’t get your lady out of those clutches,’ Jekka said darkly, ‘then all of Illeum and a lot more besides will end up in them anyway. Think about that, my lord, and then sit again and let me explain my plan in greater detail. Hopefully you will see that I am not quite as foolhardy as you would apparently believe.’
‘Ah, little Princess Flix!’ Fulgrim’s leering smile failed to touch his eyes as Halit led Corinna into the large tent. Her bit had been replaced and her wrists were once more fastened to her hips, which she let sway extravagantly with every stalking step she took, determined to play the role of slave girl to its limit.
‘You’ve looked after her well, Halit,’ the Vorsan leader said, approvingly. ‘That’s good, for she’ll need her strength when we get to Garassotta. Did you manage to discover anything concerning the other matter I mentioned to you?’
Beside Corinna, Halit nodded a respectful salute and stood to attention. ‘Nothing beyond the fact that she appears to be a well trained little slave slut,’ he said. ‘She fucks like a doe rabbit and then moans for more.’
Fulgrim pursed his lips and nodded. ‘I see,’ he said pensively. ‘Well, if she helps us achieve our purpose, which I’m sure she will, you shall have her as promised, though beware she doesn’t wear you out, young man.’ He peered at Corinna closer now and let out a small sigh.
‘Remarkable resemblance,’ he muttered. ‘Quite remarkable. Let’s hope she still looks like the bitch when all that paint and stain is removed.’ He stepped closer and carefully cupped one of Corinna’s breasts in his right hand. ‘She even has a pair of melons to match the Illean slut,’ he chuckled, ‘and few can boast that, though that little bed warmer of Dorothea’s was even more generously endowed, I must say.’
‘Then she must be quite a sight, my lord,’ Halit said, smiling.
Fulgrim grunted. ‘That she is,’ he agreed, ‘and a sight I’d like to have wriggling on the end of my cock while her former mistress watches. The dear Lady Dorothea was rather possessive of her little maid girl, so to see me poke her would really upset her. Not that she doesn’t have other problems to occupy her devilish mind now, though.’
‘You wish me to take this one and have her cleaned up, my lord?’ Halit offered. ‘The stain will wash out, but it requires a special oil and a lot of scrubbing in hot water afterwards.’
‘No, that can keep for the moment,’ Fulgrim said, with a wave of his hand. ‘For the moment I just wish to try her on the special pedestal I have had made in order to display her properly before the walls of Garassotta. I gave the carpenters measurements to work from, but I prefer these things to be just right.’ He turned and looked towards the farthest corner of the tent and Corinna saw for the first time that there was something there, something about the height of her shoulder and hidden beneath a large piece of sacking. Even without seeing what it was, she felt her stomach turning to ice.
‘Ah, I see you look a little worried, my dear Flix,’ Fulgrim chuckled. ‘Well, perhaps you should, for I fear my little invention will offer you the most uncomfortable of perches and you may have to remain on it for quite some time, depending upon how reasonable the garrison commander at Garassotta is prepared to be.’
Corinna darted a sideways glance at Halit, but the handler was looking away from her, deliberately avoiding her gaze. Whether he knew what lay in store for her or not, he, like Corinna, was obviously in no doubt that it would not be pleasant and it appeared the bond that had been forging between them in the wagon had somehow touched his conscience. Or had it?
From the conversation that had passed between him and Fulgrim, Corinna now knew that Halit, apart from any obvious and selfish reasons for taking her out of the ranks of the ordinary pony slaves, had been ordered to use his time with her to determine whether there was indeed more to her than she had so far shown. So, Fulgrim had not been totally convinced that the appearance of a Corinna look-alike had been merely that and had still been harbouring suspicions concerning her true identity, no matter how small.
Corinna sighed inwardly, thankful now that her treacherous body was able to act as wantonly as it did, for her helpless reaction to any sort of bondage was not what Fulgrim would have expected from any lady of breeding. The Vorsan treated women abominably, like animals or possessions, but he was incapable of understanding that some of them actually enjoyed that, or were at least unable to control their baser instincts when any semblance of choice was taken from them.
Fulgrim turned to one of the guards who stood along the side wall of the tent and clicked his fingers. The man clicked his boots together, swivelled around and marched towards the shrouded object in the corner. Without removing the sacking, he began to drag it across the ground, until it stood roughly in the middle of the tent.
‘Remove the covering,’ Fulgrim said tersely. ‘Let Princess Flix see her new throne!’
Moxie finished spreading the thick fur inside the rock cleft and straightened up, unbuckling her sword belt and laying it where the weapon would be close to hand if needed during the night. She peered out and up at the darkening sky and then beckoned to Pester, who was sitting huddled over the dying embers of the small fire, the flimsy robe wrapped around his shoulders, his thin legs looking too frail as they projected from beneath the hem of the brief slave tunic.
‘Come here, you poor cold little thing,’ Moxie said, beckoning with a crooked finger. The young page looked up, his eyes watery. She smiled at him and flicked at the fringe of her leather skirt. ‘Come here, I said,’ she urged. ‘I thought you were supposed to be a page, eh? Time you showed some devotion to duty then, isn’t i
t?’
Pester scrambled to his feet and walked uncertainly towards the small cave entrance, still clutching the worn fabric about him. Moxie sighed and shook her head.
‘You really are quite useless, aren’t you?’ she said derisively, though gently now, rather than with the rough edge she had been using for the past days on the road. It wasn’t his fault he was such a weakling, she knew, and she could not really blame him for being scared; she was frightened herself, for the heavens’ sake and with good reason.
‘Help me remove this - this thing,’ she ordered, turning her back and indicating the buckle that held her brief halter-top in place. She could easily have unfastened it herself, as she had done so many times since Lady Dorothea had given her the warrior garb, but she knew Pester needed to feel the closeness again and, despite her fears and preoccupations, Moxie too needed something that only Pester - or another woman - could offer her. Right now, she chuckled to herself as he began his fumbling, there was no other woman, so...
‘Come, give me your mouth little man,’ she said softly, as the halter fell away loose into her hands and she turned back to face him. The garment dropped onto the edge of the fur with a soft thud and gentle clink of metal. ‘Come, suckle me my baby boy,’ she urged, taking his cheeks in her hands and guiding his face to her left nipple. Pester took it in his lips and immediately began to suck like a hungry child. Moxie felt the familiar little shivers begin to creep up her spin.
‘If only they could have made you into a real girl,’ she whispered. ‘But then, of course, you wouldn’t have had this thing and it does have its uses.’ Her right hand was now beneath the hem of his tunic, closing around his penis, which as she suspected, had already begun to respond and was thickening rapidly. ‘Oh, what is happening down here,’ she teased, squeezing him gently. He gave a small moan, but did not take his mouth from her teat.
‘Take this skirt off me, page,’ she whispered. ‘No, you can do it at the same time,’ she added, pressing his face back into her soft flesh when he made to withdraw. ‘You should know where everything is by now without needing to look.’ A few moments later, the leather skirt slipped down her thighs, paused momentarily at her knees and then rippled into a pool about her ankles. She stepped clear and kicked it away, standing naked now, apart from the long boots and the heavily studded wrist protectors.
‘There, my poor slave,’ she said. ‘That’s what you wanted to see, isn’t it?’ She pushed his face away and held him at arm’s length, posing herself deliberately. Pester, breathing harshly, stared at her - first at her naked breasts, huge and firm, with their engorged nipples, and then down to the shaven mound and the tightly compressed lips below it.
‘You know what to do,’ Moxie said, backing further into the cave and lowering herself into a sitting position. She leant back on her hands and slowly spread her thighs. Pester swallowed and moved to follow her, dropping to his knees. ‘No,’ she said softly, shaking her head as he made to bend to her. ‘A page should present himself naked to his mistress.’
Obediently, Pester grasped the hem of his shift and quickly drew it up over his head, almost entangling his arms in his haste.
‘Good boy,’ Moxie breathed. ‘Now, just kneel a while and let me look at you.’ Pester sat back on his legs, his erection thrusting up from his lap, his lack of testicles temporarily masked by his position. ‘Very good,’ Moxie chuckled. ‘Now, hold yourself.’ Pester’s hand closed around his shaft. ‘You know what to do,’ Moxie said. He began to masturbate, but slowly, knowing she would not let him climax in this way and that this was just a part of her ritual, establishing her total dominance over him by making him perform for her.
Moxie’s fingers were between her thighs, stroking her outer lips and slowly parting them, seeking the warmth and the wetness that was now being generated. She had no need of Pester in truth and could have reached an orgasm alone and unaided, as she had done many times in her still young life, but she knew he needed her and that his need was her chief means of assuring his devotion and obedience. Besides, his was a safe cock and a pleasant change on occasions.
‘Now, give me your tongue, you little lap puppy,’ she ordered, laying right back onto her elbows. Still holding himself, Pester shuffled forward and bent willingly to his task. His thin lips felt hot against her and his tongue, surprisingly long, rough and wet as it sought her bud with practised efficiency. Such a tongue should have been given to a girl, Moxie thought, idly. She reached out and stroked his head affectionately.
‘Good little puppy,’ she whispered. ‘Good little slave.’ Pester whimpered slightly, his head moving up and down in a steady rhythm, his nose rubbing against her, now wet and slippery. Moxie smiled and shuddered and stretched out flat on her back.
‘That’s good, puppy,’ she said, sighing deeply. ‘That’s very good. You can do it properly now, for being so good.’ Immediately, Pester sat up, his erect shaft looking incongruously large against his slight frame.
Moxie grinned at him. ‘Go on, you whelp,’ she chuckled. ‘Put that damned thing in me and do your worst. Oh my,’ she squeaked, as he quickly presented the head to her slit and began pushing against her. ‘Oh my, I do believe it’s grown these last few days. All this fresh air must be beneficial to you, I think. Oh yes!’ she hissed, as he began sliding into her. ‘And you can’t even ruin this by coming, can you, my poor little lover boy slave!’
‘This really is a form of madness, I think, Jekka.’ Alanna grasped her companion’s arm and stared intently into her pale eyes. ‘Do you realise just how great a danger you are thinking of putting yourself in by doing this?’
Jekka gave her a wry smile. ‘Of course,’ she replied, simply. She looked up at the puffy white clouds scudding across the early evening sky. They were tinged with orange and pink and looked like small grazing animals in a young child’s sketching book. The two Yslanders had walked well away from their campsite and the silence surrounding them was as complete as any silence could be. Finally, Jekka broke it again.
‘There is no need for you to do this with me,’ she said quietly. ‘One person could succeed as easily as two and it would not be right for you, of all people, to risk yourself.’
‘And there is no need for you to risk yourself, either,’ Alanna pointed out. ‘I’ve known you a long time, Marisjekka Onstromm, and I know that even being close to some men is repulsive to you, and yet you really think you can walk into that camp full of soldiers, exposed the way those poor creatures are?’
Jekka grinned lopsidedly and held up her hands. ‘It is merely another part of another quest,’ she replied. ‘If I regard it as such, then yes, I can do it. The gods will watch over me, I know.’
‘Aye, they’ll watch,’ Alanna agreed, ‘but will they intervene against the fates? What if things don’t go quite the way you plan, what then? You obviously know what happens to those wretched pony slaves once darkness falls?’
‘Yes.’ Jekka looked pensive again for a few moments, but the awkward smile quickly returned. ‘I shall doubtless hate it if it happens,’ she said, ‘but at least I shall know why I hate it. My grandmother once told me: “Marisjekka,” she said, “a wise woman never dies wondering”. Maybe it’s time I faced my fears.’
Alanna wrinkled her elegant nose. ‘As long as she doesn’t die wondering why in all the hells she ever did such a foolish thing,’ she replied and, although there was a smile on her face, it did not come from her heart.
‘Of course,’ Fulgrim said, as Corinna stood staring at the unveiled timber contraption, ‘this was actually designed with the real Lady Corinna in mind, a very suitable vehicle to display her to her subjects as what she really is - or was - a wanton little whore and a weak, mindless woman, spawn of a weak and worthless so-called ruler.
‘However, I shall content myself with the fact that the garrison at Garassotta will believe you are really her and enjoy the sight of your suffering only the little les
s because you are not. After all, Princess Flix, you do look so remarkably like her that it will be almost as satisfying, and I have had many a night to savour the vision in my mind.’
He turned to the nearest two soldiers and nodded. They stepped forward and one of them took Corinna’s leash rein from Halit, who relinquished it with only a flicker of reluctance in his eyes. Corinna understood; Fulgrim had not confided the full extent of his malicious intent to the handler and Halit was seeing his perverted invention for the first time also. That he was only a little less shocked than Corinna she attributed to the fact that it would be she and not he who would be mounted upon it and paraded before the castle walls, and that it was also she now who would be used to test its efficiency.
She eyed the structure with a fluttering stomach as the two guards began to remove her harness and bridle. It was quite simple yet fiendishly awful in its design, and although it now stood upon solid baked earth, could easily be mounted upon a flat wagon, with her mounted on it.
Four wooden legs rose from a square sectioned base, meeting at a point, upon which was fixed what had once plainly been a military saddle. However, since the day it was first made, this saddle had been greatly modified. The front pommel had been cut away and from the rear now projected a vertical timber pole, some three feet high and with a similar pole bolted to it at right angles, forming a T shape. At either end of this crosspiece a leather cuff had been attached and these were open, waiting...
Her wrists? No, surely not. As the girth strap was finally unbuckled, Corinna realised the horizontal bar was almost certainly too short to spread her arms wide and that the cuffs, when closed, looked surely to be too large to prevent her hands slipping through them. It was then that she understood their true purpose, but it was not these that held her main attention, for there had been one other modification made to the saddle, and the oiled black dildo that rose from its centre seemed to be beckoning her like a sinister signpost. From both sides hung two more straps, thicker and longer than the upper pair, and she knew that once mounted on this seat, she would not be dismounting without assistance.