Maiden

by Aishling Morgan

  ‘See how they blaspheme!’ Apod squealed from the floor.

  ‘They shall be punished,’ Astripod answered mildly as he took the golden leashes in his hand. ‘Come, pretty barbars, we have much to learn together.’

  Elethrine followed him as the chain pulled taut, Talithea and Aisla falling into step with the young man behind them. Elethrine glanced at the Princess, who’s face was flushed with anger but whose chin was still tilted up at a disdainful angle.

  ‘First you shall provide me with some facts,’ Astripod said, not troubling to turn to face them. ‘Then I shall whip you and take my pleasure of you, an occurrence that you will not mention to any others unless you wish to undergo certain subtle and inventive tortures. And do not think to treat me as you did Apod. I am no eunuch and Aurac may be scrawny but he is strong and holds a well honed spear. You will speak only when spoken to, obey orders promptly and address me as Serenity.’

  ‘Yes Serenity,’ Aisla responded.

  Elethrine said nothing, then hastily gave the same response as Talithea yelped from the application of a spear tip to one buttock. Astripod gave a brief snort of a amusement as Talithea reluctantly added her reply.

  They moved through a maze of corridors, all built of the ubiquitous pink marble but decorated with a thousand designs in coloured stone, exotic wood, stained glass and vivid paint. Many of the designs depicted erotic scenes, the detail and intimacy of which set Elethrine’s inside trembling. All this was lit by torches set in braziers at frequent intervals, the dancing light making the copulating figures seem to move with obscene jerking motions.

  Finally they reached a heavy door of black wood set with polished green gems, beyond which proved to be a spacious chamber with a window looking out, high over Vendjome city. Viewed from above, it’s sheer size was still more impressive than it had been before. Thieron, the capital of Mund and Talithea’s home city, would have fitted easily between the palace and the distant wall.

  ‘I see you gape in wonderment,’ Astripod remarked, ‘and so you should. Vendjome must seem magnificent indeed when compared with the wattle and daub huts of your native land.’

  ‘I live in a castle built of stone,’ Elethrine replied, ‘and if it is not so large, its construction is every bit as fine. Also better able to withstand a siege. One day you will find that your ornamentation and fancy pillars make easy scaling for an enemy.’

  ‘No enemy has approached Vendjome City for two thousand years,’ Astripod laughed. ‘But this is of interest, I had no idea that concepts such as defensive strategy were understood in the barbar lands. Still, we shall discuss that later. For now, observe this globe’

  He indicated a curious object, a sphere supported on a bronze tripod. Lines crosses it’s surface, some regular, some in complex patterns that gave it the look of a map. Elethrine noted the word Apraya on one area, and Cypraya to it’s side, apparently indicating the two great continents. To the north Kora was shown only as a vague coastline, with it’s interior marked as unknown.

  ‘Why is it round, Serenity?’ Aisla enquired, voicing the question that Elethrine had been too proud to ask.

  ‘Because, pretty one, that is the shape of the world,’ Astripod laughed. ‘Now…’

  ‘That’s absurd, everyone would fall off!’ Talithea snorted, drawing a yet more condescending laugh from Astripod and a chuckle from his apprentice.

  ‘I could attempt to explain,’ Astripod said, ‘but you would understand nothing of what I said. Anyway, we are not here that I may give barbar girls a lesson in physical philosophy, eh Aurac, as well teach trolls the bass viola! No, what I wish to know is the detail of the your continent Kora, as it’s interior is a mystery to our geographers. Provide me good detail and I will reduce the severity of your whippings.’

  ‘We shall not,’ Elethrine replied after an instant of hesitation. ‘It is dishonourable to bargain for the reduction of a punishment.’

  ‘It would also be foolish to supply you with details of our homeland,’ Talithea added.

  ‘Very well,’ Astripod sighed, ‘if you wish to be difficult then we shall see how your supposed honour stands up to the effect of Aurac’s quirt across your naked backsides. Whip them Aurac, the golden haired one first.’

  Wary of Aurac’s spear, Elethrine allowed herself to be bent over the windowsill, a position that left her barely covered breasts dangling over Vendjome city while her naked buttocks were thrust high for the apprentice’s attention. Turning back, she saw that Aurac had taken up a quirt similar to those used by the eunuchs. Once again she was reminded of its similarity to the dog quirts of Mund and felt an extra flush of humiliation at the thought of being whipped with it. She turned forward again, looking down at the city below her and tensing herself for her beating.

  ‘A fine sight, eh, master?’ Aurac said from behind her. ‘I look forward to sheaving my phallus in her neat pink cunt, or perhaps driving it home into the warm rosebud of her arsehole.’

  ‘As do I,’ Astripod replied. ‘yet you cannot enter her cunt as she is virgin and even our resplendent cousin might notice if his pretty new toy where to be deflowered before he had a chance at her. If you want to have her, use her arsehole or breasts. Meanwhile I think I will fuck the carrot haired beauty while I watch the whipping, their bodies have inflamed me past reserve.’

  Elethrine jerked and squealed as a line of fire sprang up across her bottom without warning. Aurac laughed and once more applied the quirt, smacking it viciously down onto the very crest of one plump cheek. Elethrine yelped again despite her best efforts to remain dignified. She had never been good at controlling herself during punishment, especially when she knew just how quickly being whipped would bring the heat to her tuppenny. The indignity of her position made it worse as well, with both her friends and Astripod admiring her naked rear view and the risk that some of the men in the courtyard directly below might look up and be treated to a fine view of her ill-concealed breasts.

  Sure enough, one of them looked up, then drew the attention of his companion to the sight above him. He laughed, paused a joke on the appearance of Elethrine’s dangling breasts and shouted up to ask whether she was being fucked or whipped. She gave no reply save a gasp as the quirt once more slapped down on the soft flesh of her bottom, a response that drew laughter from the men below.

  Behind her Elethrine’s could hear the sounds of Aisla being entered by Astripod, first a wet smacking as she sucked him to erection, then a curious squelching sound and a moan as his cock went into her. The quirt began to fall rhythmically, striking one cheek after another, each blow burning into Elethrine’s smarting bum flesh. Her whole bottom was warming and she could feel a trickle of wet on her inner thigh where her tuppenny had started to juice. As one of the men below made an obscene suggestion about placing his cock between her breasts she gave a sob of shame.

  ‘She how her cunt opens!’ Aurac declared. ‘She may be virgin but she is ready for her first cock. Still, the below is no fool, her fat breasts will make a handsome slide for my prick.’

  ‘Do it then,’ Astripod grunted.

  Elethrine was pulled in from the window, her bottom burning but now thoroughly on heat and Aurac pushed himself into a kneeling position and placed his already erect cock between her breasts. She squeezed them around it and kissed the tip, lost to her need as his hard shaft began to move between the soft pillows of her breasts. Dimly she was aware of Talithea standing behind the two men, fiddling with the brass screw that held the globe on its tripod. Then her eyes lit on Aisla’s face, which was set in ecstasy as the stout scholar humped her from the rear. While the blue velvet dress covered most of the maids body, their was something incredibly exciting about the way it had been thrown up to gain access to her body. Her drawers and pantelettes were down too, and Elethrine realised that she herself would have presented a very similar picture if mounted for sex. Aurac groaned and started to come, a jet of white sperm erupting from his cock to splash in Elethrine’s face and over her breasts. Sh
e stuck her tongue out, gaping eagerly for a mouth full even as Talithea raised the globe above Astripod’s bald and sweating pate.

  There was a rending crash and Astripod staggered back, his cock slipping out of Aisla’s tuppenny, the globe an absurd parody of his head. He clutched at it briefly and then slumped down, unconscious. Aurac turned at the sound, the come still dribbling from his cock. The ecstasy on his face turned to alarm and then blankness as Talithea brought a brass telescope down on the back of his head. He too slumped unconscious, his cock sliding from between Elethrine’s breasts to leave them slick with sperm. A burst of excitement expelled the dizzy, pleasantly helpless feeling that had been building up in her. Talithea was still holding the telescope, as if expecting further opponents and her face was set in a manic grin.

  ‘So,’ she announced, ‘now we take weapons, return to the great hall, slay the Emperor, go down in a welter of blood the tale of which will ring down the centuries and meet again in the feast hall of heroines!’

  ‘No, no,’ Elethrine objected, wondering once more about the Princess’s sanity, ‘we escape and return to Mund. Come Aisla, get up.’

  Aisla was still kneeling, her bottom up and open as if her tuppenny were resentful of having lost the cock that had been pleasuring her. Her eyes were shut and her mouth open, an expression of dopey bliss that faded only slowly at her mistress’s words.

  ‘And give me some clothes,’ Elethrine added, suddenly acutely conscious of her nudity and sperm covered chest.

  Aisla got up, blushing, and began to undo the blue velvet dress. Elethrine squatted down to wipe her breasts clean on the hem of the unconscious Astripod’s robe, trying to think and ignore the tingling sensation in her nipples, the wet, open feeling of her tuppenny and the warm soreness of her bottom. Aisla peeled the dress off and gave it to her mistress. Elethrine pulled it on, immediately banishing the worst of her lust as she covered her body from view for the first time since the auction. The Princess was still toying with the telescope as Elethrine pulled her drawers on underneath the dress.

  ‘We must leave, quickly,’ Elethrine said, turning to study the maps spread out on the table.

  ‘How?’ Talithea demanded. ‘We are in the middle of a gigantic palace in a still more gigantic city, near naked and instantly recognisable. Better that we go down fighting, as our fathers would wish.’

  ‘Put the telescope down and listen!’ Elethrine hissed. ‘Aisla, give her my pantalettes and chemise, you must wear just a petticoat. Look, this map shows the city, in every detail, and this one the country and lands beyond. We may use them to get home!’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Talithea admitted, accepting the chemise and pantalettes from the now bare breasted Aisla. ‘But how do we get out of the palace?’

  ‘By the roofs, once it is dark,’ Elethrine answered, ‘which it will be shortly.’

  She turned away to look out over the roof tops of Vendjome but also to hide the fluttering of her heart. Aisla was strong, yet born to be subordinate, while Talithea, for all her urbane manner and fine education, was simply too crazed to take the lead. That left the responsibility in her hands - and the task of escaping from slavery in a foreign city.

  Taking a deep breath and reciting the prayer to her mother traditional for a maiden about to embark on a challenging task, she turned back to the maps. As she did so an idea came to her as if in answer to her prayer.

  ‘The way out is simple,’ she said with more confidence than she felt. ‘In the streets we would be recognised instantly, yet we must have some time before our absence is investigated. Apod, the eunuchs and a few guards alone know we are here, and all have been warned to hold their tongues. So, we wait until dark, climb from the window, descend to the streets here…’

  She jabbed her finger onto the map of Vendjome City, indicating a jumble of small streets and alleys to the rear of the palace.

  ‘…and make our way to here, the caravan terminus. Once there we conceal ourselves among the cargo of a caravan and leave with it, thus evading detection. Our very obviousness is our safeguard, for they will think it easy to spot us and so be fooled.’

  ‘What if they search each caravan as it leaves the city?’ Aisla queried.

  ‘Pray they will not,’ Elethrine replied. ‘Come now, let us make a rope.’

  They waited until darkness had covered the great city. Then, using a rope contrived of two petticoats and the clothing of the unfortunate Astripod and his apprentice, they lowered themselves carefully from the window onto an ornate ledge some way below. With their hearts in their mouths they edged along the ledge to a roof, then to another. Thus they descended, moving slowly and freezing each time a figure appeared in the courtyards and walkways below them. Finally they reached the street, a narrow alley beside what the smell suggested were the palace kitchens.

  They remained concealed behind a great bin of waste until the hubbub of the city had begun to die, then, using the street plan and slipping from shadow to shadow, they made their way slowly to the caravan terminus. As they went Elethrine found the deep shame and despair that had been building up ever since their capture fleeing away. Elation replaced it, a fierce, wild emotion that gave her a sense of excitement and invulnerability. So strong was it that she had to struggle to keep herself in check against acting too hastily and she wondered if it was the same feeling warriors had when approaching battle. Talithea and Aisla were clearly in a similar state, their faces set in manic grins as time after time they risked exposure during dashes across open streets and along alleys. At last they reached the caravan terminus, to find a great yard illuminated by braziers and crowded with wagons, every one of which had at least one guard.

  ‘So what now?’ Talithea whispered, for once acceding to Elethrine’s leadership without argument.

  The disturbed cackle of a mandrill sounded somewhere far off across the city, a sound entirely in keeping with Elethrine’s mood. She paused before answering the Princess. To conceal themselves successfully among the wagons would be no easy task, yet it was one they had to face. Recalling remarks Kaulak had made on bribery, she decided on a plan, for all that she knew it was born more of desperation that common sense.

  ‘We proceed thus,’ she said, pulling the others back into the deep shade of a warehouse doorway. ‘Two things I have noted while in Vendjome. First they treat bodily pleasures as if they were a form of currency or barter, like the dwarves. Secondly, men take more than one woman to wife - or whatever their equivalent. Thus it seems that the poor and ill favoured must have little opportunity for pleasure.’

  ‘All true,’ Talithea responded, ‘gross, decadent, but true.’

  ‘So,’ Elethrine continued, ‘we select the most ill favoured among the caravan guards and offer our services for the duration of the trip…’

  ‘Demioselle!’ Talithea exclaimed softly.

  ‘Is that the voice of the girl who indulged in the position of the Goblin and Dog not so many nights ago?’ Elethrine enquired.

  ‘Kaulak is a noble and a warrior,’ Talithea hissed.

  ‘Kaulak is an opportunistic coward who fled at the first sign of danger,’ Elethrine replied.

  ‘I will serve as needs,’ Aisla put in softly.

  ‘Slut!’ Talithea hissed.

  ‘You are she who always councils the dramatic,’ Aisla answered, for the first time speaking back to the Princess.

  ‘I…’ Talithea began in outrage, only to be cut short by Elethrine.

  ‘Stop squabbling!’ she hissed. ‘We are a thousand leagues from Mund and under oath not to reveal each other’s behaviour. Unless you have a better plan let us proceed.’

  ‘I will not so soil myself,’ Talithea answered, ‘but let Aisla do it and you have my support.’

  ‘You sucked dwarven cock eagerly enough,’ Aisla said spitefully.

  ‘Aisla!’ Elethrine hissed. ‘Behave, or I shall spank you, now, and a curse for the consequences when you begin to squeal and whimper!’

  ‘Sorry,’ Aisla answer
ed meekly.

  ‘It seems I must do this myself,’ Elethrine said, knowing that she spoke sensibly but with a pang of shame for the fact that she was still on heat from her whipping, Aurac’s treatment of her breasts and perhaps the thrill of escape. ‘Aisla, give me your petticoat.’

  Aisla stripped obediently, peeling the petticoat off her legs and passing it to her mistress. Elethrine made a shawl of it, hiding her golden hair and pale skin. Peering from the mouth of the alley, she selected her target. The guards were displaying little interest in their tasks, mostly talking together or seated on the wains, one or two actually appearing asleep.

  ‘There is a difficulty,’ Talithea’s voice sounded softly from behind. ‘How do we know whither the caravan is bound.’

  ‘We don’t,’ Elethrine whispered back, ‘pray to every ancestor that you have that we chance well.’

  Before Talithea could reply Elethrine slipped from the shadows, having chosen her target. He was leaning on a wain no more than a hundred paces distant, a fat man, tall by Vendjomois standards who the light of the braziers revealed to have greying hair and a half empty wine jack at his side. As she approached she heard him singing softly to himself, a song that bolstered her hopes of success -

  When I had but a sapling I’d plant it anywhere,

  In mouth or cunt or bottom hole of any strumpet fair -

  For I had but to ask it and they’d willingly go bare.

  And when I had a mighty tree I’d use it night and day,

  To fuck the girls three at a time in each and every way -

  For I merely had to show them it to know that they would play.

  Then when I reached my middle time my bough began to fail,

  A girl would come and tease me by wiggling her tail -

  So I’d grab her buns and come between to prove I was still male.

  But when I slow and my wood goes soft I’ll find it hard to rise,

  The girls will laugh and run from me and refuse to spread their thighs -