They attempted the manoeuvre, only to see the ship alter course with a determination that destroyed Elethrine’s last hopes of avoiding it.
‘They will surely ravish us and make us slaves,’ Elethrine said.
‘Perhaps your time has come to surrender?’ Talithea suggested, her remark showing that the recent spanking rankled despite the crisis.
Elethrine ignored her, picking up the boat-hook as the galley bore down on them. It closed quickly, the narrowing gap revealing it’s crew. It’s deck was crowded, mainly with lean, dark skinned men, small yet wiry with long faces and hawk like features that gave Elethrine little hope of finding any nobility. There were also evident Vendjomois among the crew and black skinned Cypraeans, yet two men stood out. The first, at the bow of the galley, was heavy set and pale skinned with tawny hair. He stood well above the height of those around him and the hilt of a great, two-handed sword could be seen rising over his back. The second was larger still, and seemed to radiate power even at a distance. Skin the colour of ash and large features showed him to be of some race she had no knowledge of, while a crested helm and elaborate body armour marked him as captain of the galley.
As the galley closed Elethrine wondered if her time had indeed come to surrender. The appearance of the galley and it’s crew held a raw, masculine power that sent a shiver straight to the little bud at the centre of her tuppenny. To be taken by a man such as the captain would certainly be acceptable and she determined to make it clear that he was her mark before Talithea had a chance. Dropping the boat-hook, she determined on a different course of action.
Moments later the galley overhauled their boat. The sides touched and the girls found themselves looking up at a line of ferocious, yet surprised faces. In the centre was the captain, with the burly mate to his side.
‘Do you talk?’ the captain boomed, his voice unnecessarily loud even with the noise of the wind and the waves.
‘Certainly we talk!’ Talithea snapped back before Elethrine could contrive a more appropriate answer.
The captain exchanged a glance with his mate, the look containing both amusement and surprise.
‘Know then that I am Irqual the Makean,’ the captain announced, ‘a warrior unequalled in all the world. Also the greatest of lovers, the…’
‘To boast is easy,’ Talithea said, to Elethrine’s horror, ‘true greatness comes with deeds, not words.’
For a moment a shadow of black rage passed across the captain’s grey visage and his hand tightened on the hilt of the massive axe at his belt. Then his face split into a broad grin and he let rip a great gust of laughter. With a single hand he reached down and caught Talithea by her chemise, lifting her easily onto the galley.
Fired by hope, Elethrine lifted her own hand, to have it grasped by the burly mate who pulled her aboard with the same ease. Aisla followed and the three girls found themselves standing in a ring of fierce faces, many showing lust but none aggression.
‘We thank you, noble captain,’ Elethrine addressed the bulky Irqual in an attempt to show herself as leader among the girls. ‘We had few supplies and were afeared of drifting forever on this bleak sea.’
‘What were you doing out here in the first place?’ the captain demanded in curiosity, ‘And of what race are you?’
‘They are Mundics,’ the mate put in, ‘from Kora, across the sea from my own land of Hai, though the gods alone know what brings them to an oar-boat in the middle of the Ryna Sea.’
‘We escaped from a Vendjomois trader who sought to make us slave,’ Elethrine explained, twisting the truth somewhat and allowing her tone to imply the unacceptability of such a thing.
‘You are lucky then,’ Irqual boomed, ‘for with us you’ll get finer treatment than among the perfumed, effeminate men of Vendjome.’
‘I thank you captain,’ Elethrine replied, taking his statement as implying that his people did not take slaves.
‘I can see you’d fetch a high price though,’ he continued, reaching out and quite casually taking one of Aisla’s heavy breasts in his hand. She made no resistance, but allowed him to fondle her as if her were testing the quality of a melon. ‘So, what are your names, ladies?’
‘I am Elethrine,’ Elethrine replied, deciding not to make an issue of her title for fear of kidnap.
‘And I Aisla,’ the maid giggled as her nipple popped to erection under Irqual’s thumb.
‘And you, elfling?’ Irqual demanded, turning to Talithea.
Barely before he had finished his question Talithea’s hand had lashed out to land a stinging slap on the captain’s cheek. He bellowed with rage and released Aisla’s breast to grab at Talithea. He caught her chemise and it tore, baring her breasts and drawing a cry of indignation from her. Again her hand lashed out, her nails raking Irqual’s arm even as he crushed her to himself.
Elethrine leapt forward by impulse even as she cursed the Princess’s stupidity in rising to what had not even been an intended insult. Irqual had pulled Talithea into a bear hug and Elethrine leapt onto his back, locking her arm around his bull neck even as Aisla rushed in to the grapple him from the side. Irqual hurled himself sideways, oblivious to the weight of the three girls clinging to him. Talithea fell to the deck, Elethrine maintaining her perch as Aisla was flung to the side. Irqual roared in fury and swung his great arms up, even as the mate caught Elethrine around the waist. A moment later she was taken by a dozen hands and pulled back.
‘She cats!’ Irqual roared. ‘Put them over the bombards, stripped!’
Elethrine’s fought in vain as hands grabbed her gown. Despite her efforts it was quickly pulled up over her head and off, even as hands grappled her drawers to pull them down and leave her naked. Her arms and legs were grabbed and pulled wide, spreading her tuppenny open for all to see as she was carried towards the three fat bellied, black-iron bombards that stood on the ship’s sterncastle. As she went she saw that Aisla and Talithea had both been served the same way. Both were nude and struggling and both were destined to be strapped down for whatever punishment Irqual had in mind.
Elethrine cursed Talithea’s temper as rough hands pushed her down over the barrel of the bombard. Her thighs spread involuntarily over the warm metal of the rounded chamber, sliding apart until her bare tuppenny was touching the surface. One of them pushed her back down, spreading her bottom for everyone to see as others began to lash her ankles to the carriage. Ropes were bound around her waist and the bombard, then tied off on her crossed hands, leaving her arms helpless in the small of her back. One dangling breast was taken in hand, making Elethrine tremble as she resigned herself to being ravished by thirty or so corsairs while strapped naked over the barrel of a bombard.
Her tuppenny was spread, wide and wet, an easy target for their cocks. She wondered who would be first, perhaps the blustering captain or his gross, uncouth mate. Or maybe they’d take Aisla and Talithea and leave her to the crew, adding the shame of being had by a commoner to her plight.
A hand grabbed one of her buttocks, squeezing and weighing it. A horny finger touched her anus, making her jump and causing her bottom to wobble, much to their amusement. A hand touched her tuppenny, the thumb right over the opening and she realised that she wasn’t even going to be allowed the dignity of having her maidenhead sundered by a cock. She clenched her teeth, waiting for the expected pain, only for the hand to be removed as the captain roared for the men to pull back.
‘Get your hands away until I’ve made my choice, you filthy rats!’ he shouted. ‘You can all fuck until your balls drop off, but not my one, and not until they’ve had a damn good whipping for their nerve. Ha! How do you feel now you three, with your fat female arses stuck up high and your cunts open wide? Ready for cock, eh? Well you’ll get it, all you want, but not until Drathor here has brought the heat to your arses with a cat!’
Irqual stood back, and Elethrine turned her head to find Drathor fingering a heavy whip with nine tails of braided leather. Aisla and Talithea were to either side, both w
ith their naked bums in the air, just as she herself was, a thoroughly rude pose but a fine one to put a girl in for whipping.
Drathor scanned the three bottoms, selecting a target. Elethrine found herself shivering and kicking her legs in anticipation as his gaze settled on her spread seat. He stepped forward, took a handful of her bottom as if to test its weight and then stood away once more. Then the whip came down and Elethrine yelled as a fiery pain exploded across her bottom. Irqual laughed and slapped his thigh as Drathor once more raised the whip. Twelve hard strokes she was given, which left her bottom hot and throbbing. Drathor then served Aisla the same way, making the maid squeal and sob until her buttocks started to warm and she began to come on heat. Talithea was punished last and given eighteen hard, measured strokes that left her mewling and gasping on the barrel to which she was strapped, obviously excited and ready to be mounted.
Elethrine found herself breathing deeply and evenly. As with Aisla and Talithea, the whipping had brought the heat to her tuppenny and she felt ready for entry. Her bottom was a plump, hot ball of flesh - well smacked and throbbing, as it should be before her ravishment. The man who had beaten her was also he who was going to be the first to put his cock inside her. It was exactly as custom dictated - first the girl’s ritual resistance had to be overcome. Then she would be whipped until her bottom was red and she was begging for entry. Finally she would be thrown down and entered, submitting herself joyfully to her future husband.
Yet she had always pictured the scene in her turret room at Korismund Keep, with some splendid Mundic noble standing over her with his magnificent erection straining out beneath his mail. Drathor, it was true, was obviously a great warrior, yet the situation was somehow strangely unsatisfying, perhaps because of her countrymen Aisla and Talithea alone would know how she had been taken.
Drathor himself evidently cared nothing for her qualms. He had stood back and, as Elethrine turned her head to see, she found that he was struggling with the crude fastenings of his trousers with a haste that suggested an uncontrollable lust. The others stood grinning around him, their eyes feasting on her naked posterior and the wet, ready tuppenny that she was flaunting for the mate’s attention. She raised her bottom as Drathor’s thongs came undone, her jaw trembling as she offered herself. He pulled his cock free, a massive thing, white and fleshy with a bulbous head already protruding from the thick foreskin. With his eyes locked on her naked bottom he began to masturbate.
‘In the bull’s eye Drathor!’ one of the others laughed and threw something to the mate.
The others laughed and cheered, egging Drathor on to his task. The mate stumped forward, past Elethrine’s waiting vagina and to her head, where he offered his cock to her mouth. She opened her mouth and took it in, starting to suck as she wondered if another would take advantage of her openness and mount her while the mate was busy in her mouth. His cock was big and made her gape, then gag as it was pushed roughly to the back of her throat. Several ribald remarks were made about her obvious willingness to suck, yet she was lost to the pleasure of ravishment and felt no more than a slight flush of shame that it should be done so publicly.
Drathor’s great hand slapped something down between her buttocks, applying something warm and greasy. She sighed around her mouthful of cock, grateful for the soothing feeling as it was smeared over her freshly whipped bottom. From the smell she guessed it was some sort of fish grease, yet it felt pleasantly slimy on the hot, dry surface of her bottom skin. As his fingers began to caress her bottom her sucking became more eager, a fully wanton response to the skill with which she had been brought on heat.
His hand was stroking her buttocks, then between them, the horny fingers rubbing her anus. Elethrine raised her bottom further, aware of the shame of her action even as she did it. Suddenly a thick, callused finger popped up her bottom, making her swallow and once more gag on the penis in her mouth. Somebody laughed and she realised what the expression ‘bull’s eye’ probably meant. She groaned deep in her throat as his finger began to wriggle around in her bottom hole, stretching the ring in what could only be preparation for buggery.
It was too late. She wouldn’t have protested if there had been any point. Drathor was slipping his cock from her mouth. It reared up, wet with her saliva, the veins showing blue in the thick shaft. Then he was going behind her. His finger came out of her bottom with a sticky pop. His penis was between her cheeks, hard against her soft, greasy flesh. The head was at her anus, pushing. She relaxed her ring and clenched her teeth, remembering Aisla’s description of how to accept a cock in the bottom ring. Drathor grunted and she felt her anus stretch wide. She had the head of a penis in her bottom hole, then the neck as it pushed inside, aided by the liberal smearing of fish grease. She expelled her breath in a long, ecstatic moan as her back passage filled with cock, then began to grunt and sigh to the rhythm of his thrusts as he started to bugger her.
Her head was spinning, her whole world centred on the thick penis in her bottom and the breathless, dizzy feeling it was giving her. From the claps and whistles of the crowd she knew how her pleasure was showing, yet all she could do was writhe in her bonds, quite unable to get a finger to her tuppenny and indulge her need for the ultimate pleasure, and ultimate shame, of bringing herself to a climax while there was a penis up her bottom. Yet the way she was spread-eagled over the bombard meant that her clitty could touch the hard metal, just as it had in the heat of her whipping. Almost without knowing what she was doing she began to rub, bucking her hips and bottom in a movement in a movement of such lascivious delight that it drew a roar of coarse laughter from the captain.
‘That’s my beauty, come on my cock!’ Drathor drawled hoarsely. ‘Squeeze it out of me!’
Elethrine began to buck more frantically as her orgasm approached. With each movement her tightly stretched anus pulled on Drathor’s shaft, the straining ring drawing him in like a pursed mouth sucking. She could feel his pubic hair rubbing between her bottom cheeks and the coarse leather of his trousers touching the sore skin of her well thrashed behind. He was still pushing into her, and each time a thrust matched her now frantic bucking his balls would slap against her empty tuppenny. Her bound hands and ankles gave extra pleasure, reminding her of her helplessness and making every muscle strain with her rising climax. Then there was the hot, burning sensation of her freshly beaten bottom, a ball of pain that made a fine frame for her penetrated anus.
‘Harder, deeper in me!’ she begged, indifferent to her audience or the amazed stares of her friends. ‘Bugger me! Hurt me!’
She came, screaming out her lust to the delighted watchers. The muscles of her sex contracted, hard, and her anus began to pulse, squeezing on the intruding penis. Drathor grunted, gave a final, hard shove and came up Elethrine’s bottom, the rhythmic contractions of her stretched anus draining his sperm into her bowels. Once more she screamed, her mouth gaping in the vain hope of a cock being thrust into it at her very peak of ecstasy. Then it was over and she was subsiding onto the warm, sweat slick metal of the bombard, blissfully happy and heedless of the utter shame of what she had just done.
It came back as Drathor pulled his cock slowly from her bottom. Her little hole closed, sore and throbbing as his sperm trickled out to pool in her gaping vagina and then dribble down her tuppenny. Her bonds, which a moment before had adding to her pleasure by giving her something to strain against during climax, now began to hurt, as did the cramped muscles of her arms and legs.
‘Release me, I’ll be good,’ she said softly.
At a nod from the captain two seamen came forward and began to work on her bonds. To either side of her the other girls were till strapped in place, their whipped bottoms thrust high over the fat bellies of the bombards. One man had his hand under Talithea’s belly, and from the rapt expression on her face it was evident that he was playing with her tuppenny. Another was fondling the flesh of one of her breasts were it was squashed against the metal barrel, while a third was near her head and was s
troking his cock in evident anticipation of her mouth.
Aisla, by contrast, had nobody within a good three paces of her. Nude except for the torn and dirty petticoat that had been raised to expose her buttocks for whipping, she looked good enough to tempt any man. Their lack of attention seemed curious to Elethrine until she saw the gigantic captain stride across the deck towards the maid. Clearly he had marked her for his own. Elethrine once more feeling a flush of annoyance that her maid should be chosen over her.
Irqual lost no time with his prize, pulling his penis from his fly and thrusting it at Aisla’s mouth. It was colossal, a great, fat thing the same curious ash grey as the captain’s skin. Suddenly Elethrine was glad that it was not the captain who had taken her. The strain of accepting the mate in her bottom ring had been considerable and it now felt sore and strangely loose. Drathor’s cock was big, but not by comparison with that of his chief, which was now being slid in and out of Aisla’s mouth while her lips gaped around it like a baby bird attempting to manage an impossibly large worm.
As the last of her bonds came loose Elethrine struggled to her feet. Her dress and drawers were nearby, badly torn but still more or less intact. She reached for them more out of habit than to cover what had already been seen in every detail. For a moment she wondered if the crew men who had untied her would want to use her, but none did and she realised that, like Aisla, she had been marked for exclusive use. As she sat down on the barrel of the bombard with a sigh of satisfaction and relief Irqual pulled his cock free of Aisla’s mouth. Elethrine watched as the giant went to the maid’s rear and mounted her, sliding his monstrous cock into her vagina with remarkable ease. Aisla sighed and opened her mouth in an expression of contentment, then began to give little grunts of pleasure as she was ridden. For all Irqual’s massive bulk, he stood perhaps no more than a hand’s breadth taller than Aisla, which, Elethrine reasoned, meant that his cock was probably quite a good fit. The alternative was that Aisla’s experience extended even further than she had already admitted to, and probably included accommodating the cocks of a good proportion of the male element of the keep’s company.
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