So I’ll hide myself by the washing trough and take them by surprise!
And when I’m gone and death has felled my once mighty tree
That once I used to shake an arse and tremble a dainty knee -
A cunt it has no memory, and they’ll not remember me.
For the last verse the guard’s tone had changed, indicating a degree of melancholy and sexual frustration. Elethrine smiled to herself, a grin of wicked satisfaction which she quickly suppressed in case it was the start of a berserk passion similar to those of Talithea. No other guards noticed her as she slid into the shade of the wagons and she reached her target’s side without being seen.
‘Good man,’ she whispered, causing the old guard to jump and turn suddenly.
He opened his mouth to yell, but her hand had closed over it and as he saw her face in the shadow of the improvised veil his eyes became wide.
‘The golden haired barbar slave!’ he exclaimed quietly as she removed her hand.
‘I am no slave!’ Elethrine hissed and then hastily controlled herself before continuing. ‘I was captured and sold, but I am no slave. Now I and my companions…’
‘The copper haired girl and the elfling?’ he broke in.
‘Yes, but for the sake of peace do not call the pale haired one an elfling,’ Elethrine answered, knowing that if there was one thing guaranteed to rouse Talithea’s temper it was to suggest that her near white hair came not from royal blood but from an elfin misalliance.
‘But you are of the seraglio of the Panjandrum!’ the guard quaked in terror. ‘If I am so much as seen with you I will be fed to mandrills, alive! Even to look on a girl of the seraglio is death for such as I!’
‘Be silent then!’ Elethrine urged. ‘Help us escape the city and nobody need know you saw me, besides, we have a treat for you should you be of help.’
She reached out, pulling him back into deeper shadow and placing her hand softly on his crotch. The bulge of his cock and balls felt soft beneath the leather of his belly harness. He gave a sigh of pleasure and surprise at her touch and she felt his penis squirm under the leather.
‘Think,’ Elethrine teased, ‘to be touched, there, by a girl of the seraglio of the Panjandrum himself, and with you I shall be warm and wanton, as I never could be to any who thought me not free.’
He swallowed loudly as her hand slipped into the side of his harness, finding his cock enclosed in a wrap of linen. She pushed the soft leather and linen aside, bringing his cock and balls out. They felt warm and full in her hand, a joy to handle, regardless of his age and physique.
‘Will you do it?’ she whispered.
‘This, each night?’ he queried hoarsely.
‘I give my oath on it, and the copper haired girl shall play too,’ she answered.
Elethrine began to tug at the guard’s cock, bring it slowly to erection. At first it felt soft and rubbery in her hand, then firmer and finally hard, so that she was stroking a small, stiff cock as he sighed with the pleasure of being masturbated.
‘Each night,’ she whispered in his ear, ‘until we reach our destination, and perhaps, if things go well, I’ll kiss it too.’
‘You will, and more,’ he said as he hand closed on Elethrine’s bottom.
She began to pull harder at his cock and made no objection to his rough fumbling of her bottom through her dress. His statement showed agreement if also a determination to squeeze the most out of the bargain. It was done, but she still needed to make him come, both for the sake of time and her own pride and pleasure.
‘Think,’ she whispered, remembering the pleasures males had wanted of her over the days in Apraya, ‘each night for a week soft hands will caress you. Gentle mouths and tongues will suck and lick at your genitals. My friends will pose for you, showing breasts and bottoms, cunts and bottom rings. You saw the auction, think how Aisla of the copper hair bent to show her charms. Think of the lips of her soft, sweet cunt. Think of her kneeling nude, her cunt ready to receive you…’
The guard grunted and Elethrine suddenly found her hand wet with sperm. It had taken less than a minute to bring him off, a measure, she hoped, of the delicacy and finesse of her touch.
‘So whither are we bound?’ she asked, shaking her hand fastidiously and then wiping it on the linen of his underwrap.
‘Rojome, on the coast,’ he answered, ‘with jars of honey and spices for shipment to Opina. You could hide in the great honey jars, which have already been sealed and will not be opened until the tithing point on Rojome dock.’
‘Stay then, while I fetch my companions,’ Elethrine replied.
Chapter Seven - Runaway
For nine full days the caravan made its slow way to the east and south. Elethrine, Talithea and Aisla huddled in the huge jars, naked and sticky with honey. Their clothes were folded among the personal possessions of Brissac, the guard. Sarod, the merchant who owned the cargo and that of several other wains, stayed in the more comfortable passenger wagons to the front of the caravan where there was less dust. Only occasionally did he saunter back to speak to Brissac who each time assured him that all was well.
No others disturbed them and Elethrine’s fear and apprehension slowly gave way to boredom. Naked, with her legs up and her tuppenny half immersed in the what remained of the honey, she found it impossible to keep her thoughts from the newly discovered pleasures of her body. While the caravan trundled slowly across the great Vendjomois plain she learnt to masturbate properly, at first with shame and then with increasing enthusiasm as she discovered just how exquisite the sensation of her climax could be.
The first time, in the desert, she had been clumsy and in fear of being caught and taken advantage of. Now she could take her time, exploring each fleshy fold of her tuppenny to discover exactly what feelings a touch produced. She had always know that her clitty was the very seat of her pleasure and that it needed to be touched in order to reach the actual climax of her masturbation. The more subtle pleasures of her pubic mound, the outer and inner lips of her tuppenny and other areas were newer, everything having always been hidden by her purity girdle. Her anus in particular produced delicious sensations, especially as touching the tiny hole provided not only physical pleasure but a wonderful feeling of being rude stronger even than that achieved by touching the taut skin of her maidenhead.
Each evening Brissac would wait until the caravan was quite and then release them from their jars. The wagon was covered and allowed enough concealment for them to eat in safety and sleep stretched out on the floor. Only when dawn approached would Brissac wake then and usher them back into the sticky warmth of the honey jars. Each night before they slept and when they rose, they would fulfil their bargain to Brissac. At first he contented himself with coming in the girl’s hands, but as the distance from Vendjome increased so did his boldness and their sense of gratitude. On the third night he demanded that Aisla suck his penis, which she did. He then wanted his balls in one girl’s mouth while another sucked on him, which was also granted by Elethrine and Aisla. On the fifth morning her fucked Aisla as she knelt naked and Elethrine played with his balls from behind. The scene so excited Talithea that she finally overcame her reserve and that evening allowed him to mount her in the same obscene “Goblin and Dg” position in which she had had her maidenhead taken. By the seventh night all three were eager for his cock and Aisla allowed him the pleasure of her bottom ring, grunting and panting out her lust while she was buggered and her mistress held her head for comfort.
Afterwards Aisla admitted to the others that it was not the first time time she had taken a cock up her bottom and indeed that more than one man-at-arms at the keep had enjoyed her anally on a regular basis. She then explained how a girl might accept a cock in the anus without pain, a description so vivid that that night Elethrine masturbated over the thought of how it would have felt to allow Mauszac, Brissac or even one of the dwarves to bugger her. The following night she was tempted to ask but could not face making such a dirty request in fr
ont of Talithea. Instead she acceded to Brissac’s request that she smack and fondle Aisla’s bottom while the Princess was once more mounted from the rear. Somehow the fact that they were performing for Brissac lessened the guilt of enjoying sexual contact with the other girls, and when Brissac had sprayed come across Talithea’s naked bottom, Aisla and Elethrine licked her clean and finished by using their tongues to bring her to climax.
Finally the caravan reached Rojome, a port of white marble mansions and palaces built around the curve of a great bay where two rivers poured into what the map marked as the Ryna Sea. It had an air of prosperity and, Elethrine was pleased too note as she peered cautiously from the honey jar, a far more cosmopolitan air than any of the other Vendjomois cities she had seen. While the great majority of the population were the small, yellow-brown skinned Vendjomois, there were also many with skins darker still, others with straight black hair and a curious purple tinge to their skin and even a few fair skinned, brown haired individuals whose physiques somewhat resembled those of her kin.
‘The dark skinned ones are from the Aprina States and the jungles of central Cypraya,’ Brissac explained that evening after Elethrine and Aisla had shared a long and grateful suck of his penis and swallowed his sperm. ‘While those with tawny hair and powerful build are Hai.’
The caravan had pulled into a terminus and they sat together in the shade of the wagon, its front turned to a high wall. Elethrine and Aisla had given him his farewell suck while Talithea had played with her breasts for his pleasure. They had then spread the map out and fallen to discussion of how to proceed.
‘We call Hai the Glass Coast,’ Elethrine answered him, glancing at the map, ‘and it is but two hundred leagues across the sea from Mund. If natives are here, then a link must exist.’
‘So it does,’ Brissac replied, placing a crooked finger on the map, ‘goods from Hai come in on ships from Opina, and so it must be that a caravan route exists here, across the Ara Khum…’
‘The Red Parch,’ Talithea broke in excitedly, ‘ a great desert that was my limit of knowledge of the lands of Cypraya before now.’
‘So we take ship for Opina,’ Elethrine said. ‘What sort of city is it Brissac?’
‘It is the greatest city of the Aprina States,’ he answered, ‘and by all accounts a place of high civilisation and luxury, though I have never been there. It is said that a council rules and that each citizen has a say in who takes a seat in council, a strange custom…’
‘Do they take slaves?’ Talithea asked nervously.
‘They do not,’ Brissac replied, ‘another bizarre custom. They are in many ways strange. Their women go bare breasted and adorn their nipples with pendants of silver, gold or a strange white metal brighter and heavier yet than silver.’
‘Women of Vendjome go with little more than a transparent wrap over their breasts,’ Elethrine stated. ‘I see little difference.’
‘They also make bombards capable of hurling shot over a league,’ Brissac continued, ‘and small ones that can be held by a man.’
‘Bombards?’ Elethrine asked.
‘Did you not see them in Vendjome?’ Brissac questioned. ‘Tubes of black metal that hurl iron balls great distances. They are used in battle and to defend walls and ships.’
‘I saw such devices on the walls of the cities,’ Elethrine answered, ‘but I had no knowledge of their use. They function by magic, I presume?’
‘They function by a black powder that turns suddenly to gas when struck by a spark,’ Brissac replied.
‘Magic, as I thought,’ Elethrine said with certainty. ‘But no matter. If we approach a ship of Opina asking for passage, will the shipmaster accept us or ask awkward questions?’
‘Better yet,’ Brissac responded, ‘declare yourself an escaped slave and demand sanctuary. They consider slavery an abomination for some reason.’
‘So it is,’ Talithea answered.
‘Excellent,’ Elethrine said, ‘at last luck smiles on us; although I prefer to say that we are fleeing slavery than that we are escaped slaves.’
‘He may make you work passage,’ Brissac added, ‘but he will take you, perhaps as cooks or laundrymaids.’
‘There are worse fates,’ Elethrine answered.
‘Work as a menial?’ Talithea snorted. ‘Where is your pride, Demoiselle?’
‘We have crossed a thousand leagues of hostile land,’ Elethrine retorted, ‘we have escaped slavery, we are together and we are unharmed - that is my pride.’
Talithea gave only a snort in response.
Elethrine breathed a long sigh as the sleek form of the Vendjomois pilot boat disappeared around a headland. They were free of the Empire of Vendjome. The shipmaster of the Sea Chancellor had accepted them without discussion, even with gladness, for the ship had taken on a large contingent of passengers and the cook had been more than happy to sign up three assistants. He had yet to attempt to make Talithea do any actual work, but that was a problem that could be faced with time. More importantly they were on a ship that flew the flag of Opina and so were free.
Heedless of the presence of Vendjomois passengers, she removed the headscarf of torn petticoat silk that she had been using to hide her hair and shook out her magnificent golden tresses, a display that immediately drew looks of surprise and lust from all around her. Talithea had already done the same, and Aisla now followed suit, leaving the beautiful maid in nothing but a truncated petticoat that barely covered her bottom. The fresh sea air blew Elethrine’s hair out and she breathed in deeply, delighting in her freedom. Although Rojome was further south even than the point in the Glissades where they had originally been dumped, she didn’t care. They were headed north, and that was what mattered.
A call from behind her caught her ear and she turned to find a burly man with an oiled black beard and a heavy paunch coming towards her. With a pang of unease she recognised Sarod the spice merchant and then calmed herself with the knowledge that he could do nothing and had no reason to recognise her in any case.
‘Greetings lady,’ he announced himself. ‘Do you know, it is strange - I take ship for Opina, and on the ship are three maidens both beautiful and exotic. I have travelled widely, to Ythan, the Aprina states and even to the jungle kingdoms of central and southern Cypraya, yet never have I seen such girls.’
‘I thank you for your praise kind fellow,’ Elethrine said carefully.
‘And yet,’ Sarod continued, ‘it is an extraordinary coincidence, for on the day prior to my departure from great Vendjome three girls of strikingly similar appearance were sold from the Pelucidome auction to the seraglio of his Resplendence, the Panjandrum of Vendjome.’
‘Such coincidences happen,’ Elethrine remarked.
‘So they do,’ he went on, ‘yet while we camped in the caravanserai at Iome a horseman who had overtaken us brought a rumour of a most scandalous escape - the same northern beauties. Then, on arrival in Rojome I go to pay my tithes and discover that three great honey jars are near empty. Brissac denies knowledge of this and indeed, it is hard to see how or why he would want to empty three honey jars. Yet I ponder what the reaction of the authorities in Anjome might be if they were to learn that three girls exactly resembling those escaped from the seraglio were on board the Sea Chancellor.’
‘Anjome?’ Elethrine queried.
‘Anjome,’ Sarod echoed, ‘the most northerly port of the Sepia Coast, hard on where the Eigora Khum meets the sea. We touch there for cargo and supplies before crossing the Ryna Sea to Opina.’
‘Hypothetically then,’ Elethrine stated, ‘the authorities might be amused by the coincidence but make no investigation of a ship flying the colours of an independent nation famed for its skill in the production of bombards.’
‘Alternatively,’ Sarod responded, ‘they might remark politely to the Shipmaster that he is his carrying two thousand three hundred and fifty golden Imperials worth of the Panjandrum’s personal property, stolen…’
‘I am no man’s property
!’ Talithea snapped suddenly and her palm smacked down on Sarod’s cheek.
‘Enough of circumspection then!’ he flared angrily. ‘You three will visit my cabin tonight, and I will take my pleasure of the elfling slut!’
Talithea lashed out again, but Elethrine caught the blow and pulled her friend back, smiling apologetically at several of the small, black skinned Opina seamen who had turned to stare.
‘I will speak to the Shipmaster,’ she informed Sarod. ‘He seems a man of honour and will surely protect us.’
‘Not so,’ Sarod snapped, ‘for while he espouses the fool doctrines of Opina as regards slaves, he values his cargo more highly than his moral scruples. So do as I say and perhaps, if you serve with energy and obedience, I shall forget to remark upon your presence when the tithing officer comes aboard at Anjome.’
‘So be it,’ Talithea declared later as they discussed Sarod’s blackmail in their tiny cabin, ‘I suppose one more cock in my tuppenny will make little difference, though to be had by a fat bellied merchant is a disgrace greater even than Brissac or the soldiery on the Ephraxis.’
‘Be assured that the knowledge will rest safely with Aisla and I,’ Elethrine put in, glad that the Princess had at last acceded to the prospect of being taken by Sarod.
‘I am,’ Talithea responded, ‘especially as he will doubtless pop your maidenhead either tomorrow night or the one after.’
Elethrine said nothing, but rose to her feet and nodded towards the cabin door. Sarod’s cabin proved to be one of the largest, a square room set in the great sterncastle of the Sea Chancellor. They entered at his knock, to find him seated at a table with a goblet of golden wine in one hand and a peach in the other. At the sight of them he smiled, then indicated that they should lock the door. He then pushed his chair back and pulled his robe up, exposing spindly legs, a great round paunch and an ample set of genitals.
‘Off with your clothes girl, and bring me to readiness in your mouth,’ he addressed Talithea. ‘You others, play together on the floor and ensure that my view takes in plenty of cunt. Do not feel rejected though, as the nights go by each shall have her share of cock.’
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