“It’s beautiful,” Jenya breathed. She began to relax a little, possibly from the drink or the knowledge that this exquisite piece of jewelry would soon be hers.
Agthar took the tiny bell from her fingers and jingled it once again, and Jenya watched, fascinated.
“Ow!” A sudden pain startled her. Jenya tried to jump up, but the straps held her down.
“There, it’s nearly done,” Tumira announced.
Jenya looked down between her legs to see a needle poking through both sides of the flesh above her clitoris. In a flash, Tumira removed it and replaced it with the bell that Agthar handed her, threading the ring through the flesh and locking the tiny pin home.
“All done.” The nurses stood back.
Jenya, amazed at how quickly they had worked, stared at her new jewelry. There was very little pain now. Tentatively, she reached down and flicked the bell and noticed right away how the delicate rim of the bell bounced against her skin, just below her clit. For a moment, she thought the nurses placed it too low, then was startled to see her clit peek its little head out from underneath its hood.
She flicked the bell again, and now the rim just touched her expanding clit. The sensations, though subtle, aroused her.
Now she knew why those other girls had looked so satisfied. It had taken a few days for the soreness to dissipate, but the pleasure the bell gave her had been worth it.
Jenya smiled at the memory as she stood next to Rydah’s desk. She moved her hips, letting the bell bounce softly against her clit. Her nether lips parted in anticipation, although she remained a little nervous. Jenya watched as her lord copied the remaining few pages quickly. His penmanship was neat and although she couldn’t read the writing, she believed the documents were important.
Rydah came to the last page and finished it hurriedly, not even starting over when he made a slight error. He simply covered it up with a bolder stroke of his pen and moved on. It would be good enough for the priests of Zandir, he decided.
Sighing, he put down his pen and checked the time. Just ten lapars before the courier would arrive. He debated mating with Jenya first. Ten lapars would be plenty of time to plant his seed. Still, it seemed rushed, even for him. He decided to wait.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t fondle her.
He wrapped up the pages for transport, then slipped them into a bluta-skin bag.
“Slave, come with me.” He led her to the couch, then sat, bringing her between his knees. She stood stiffly, clearly apprehensive.
“Relax,” he said gently. “I’m waiting for a courier. I just want to touch you until he arrives.”
She nodded and looked down at his hands. Her skin seemed hot to his touch. Was she in breeding mode now? Most Damons who took breeders simply mated with them daily to ensure they became pregnant.
He touched her skin, amazed that this young breeder was now his. She inhaled slightly and he felt her breasts swell to his soft touch. By Rand, they felt good to him! As he watched, stroking her gently, her nipples became erect, stretching out a good calabon for him.
He so wanted to touch her slit, feel the wetness there. He could certainly smell her desire now, but he had to hold off for a few more lapars.
Where was that damned courier!
He ran his hands down along her sides, letting her rib bones slip under the pads of his fingers. The smoothness of her stomach as it flowed into her hips fascinated him. He stroked his fingers up and down between her bottom rib and the wide flaring of her hip bones. He could imagine her stomach swollen with his child. His cock threatened to rip open his breeches at the thought. Uncomfortable, he adjusted the fit of the cloth around his straining cock.
Rydah looked up and saw that Jenya had closed her eyes, and her head had tipped slightly to one side. Her soft breaths caught in her throat. As his hands continued to trace her outline, down along her hips to the thighs, enjoying the smoothness there, her tiny bell tinkled in anticipation.
The scent of her sex overpowered him. In another lapar, he would have to have her, and the hell with the courier! He reached behind her and ran his fingers over the firm globes of her ass. It, like the rest of her, was perfect. His fingers traced the small numbers up high, near her waist and he smiled inwardly. She belonged to him now. He could hardly believe his good fortune.
He leaned in and opened his mouth slightly, just letting his lips brush against her nipples. They were fully extended now, he could tell. He could imagine his child suckling on these proud nipples, growing healthy and strong.
He wondered if he could draw out any milk from her now. He flicked his tongue at the hard nubbins and sucked greedily for a moment.
A sudden knocking at the door disturbed him. Finally! He leaned in and rested his forehead against her stomach, just below her breasts, collecting his wits about him. He breathed in deeply, taking in the odor of her sexual heat one more time.
Sighing, he released her and stood up. His cock had to be coaxed to lie against his stomach, out of the way. It throbbed with need—a need that would soon be satisfied.
Rydah picked up the soft leather case and went to the door.
“Lord Rydah?” The courier was just a boy, no more than sixteen. He bowed, but not before he caught sight of Jenya, standing naked just a few capeks behind Rydah. His eyes widened, then he looked down.
“I-I have come for the package for Zandir. Is it ready, sire?”
“Yes. Here it is. See that it is delivered safely into the hands of Priest Jenar.”
“Yes, m’lord.” He bowed again and allowed himself one more glance at Jenya. Rydah thought he caught just a glimpse of an erection pressing the boy’s breeches before he turned and fled.
Smiling, Rydah closed the door. He turned and took in Jenya’s beauty one more time. She was all his. She would do anything he asked of her. The training at the slave pens was thorough, although she had yet to breed. No doubt she had observed many other slaves pleasuring men in many different ways. He wondered if the girls had to take notes, or if they were quizzed on techniques. The idea amused him.
He rubbed his tired eyes. “Do you require anything? Hungry, thirsty?”
“Only if m’lord is having something,” she murmured. By Rand, her voice made him hard! How did a breeder do that so easily?
He nodded, realizing how long it had been since he had eaten. There wasn’t much left in the larder. Tomorrow he’d have to go to the market. The thought of him walking along the market stalls, trailed by his new breeder made him swell with pride.
“Yes, you may fix us dinner.” He watched her turn and move into the kitchen. He admired the swell of her ass, the heaviness of her upper thighs. She would be a good breeder, he told himself again.
* * * * *
She brought bread and cheese and waited for him to give her permission to eat before she downed a bite.
“Come,” he said when they were finished. “We shall retire upstairs for the night. Tomorrow you will have your own bed.”
Jenya nodded, secretly pleased to be invited upstairs. It wasn’t what she had expected. Her slave mistress told her of breeders being kept chained in kitchens, in basements, or, in the warm season, outside near the back door. Rarely did one sleep in a Damon bed!
Upstairs, Jenya observed the simple sleeping mat, a blanket tossed carelessly over it, two pillows at one end. A wooden box contained some clothes. Two small candles were the only other furnishings in the narrow room. Because of the steep pitch of the roof, only the center portion could be utilized. Still, it was both cozy and breezy—windows at both ends of the gabled roof were open, letting cooler air in.
“Are you ready to do your duty?” His voice sounded stiff and forced to her. He seemed ill at ease.
Jenya turned, eyes downcast, the obedient breeder. “Yes, master.” Her nerves were like tight wires. All her training had prepared her for this moment, yet she worried she’d do something wrong somehow.
“Good. Lie on the bed on your back and prepare yours
elf.”
Chapter Four
Intellectually, Jenya knew just what to do. She had seen the house breeders many times from the Virgin Corridor. As part of their training, the virgins were led into a row of narrow boxes that were twelve capeks off the floor of the breeding chamber. Barred windows allowed the girls to see what transpired, while keeping them safe from the men below.
She clearly recalled her first Observation of the breeding act. She had been eleven—a little young, yes, but she had already been selected, so it was deemed proper.
This rite, normally reserved for virgins aged twelve and older, served as education in all matters of sex for the young girls. They had begun by observing the gentle and pleasurable tactics of the Craftsmen.
Lady Margeld had taken charge of the girls…
“Come, little virgins, let’s go,” Margeld clapped her hands. “Now remember what we discussed. There’s nothing to be afraid of, no one is being hurt, despite what you might hear. The act of sex with your master can be quite pleasurable.”
She herded all twenty-two of them into the Observation corridor. Jenya whispered nervously to her friend Magda, asking if she was ready for the experience. Lady Margeld allowed this, as it helped calm them down. Jenya knew that some girls, seeing sex for the first time, had even fainted. And this in spite of the many lectures the Lady had given them!
Jenya took her seat with the other girls on the narrow benches and peered through the windows. She counted fourteen breeders below, sitting on mats, talking. Some looked up when they heard them shuffle in and waved. Most ignored them.
The girls had been cautioned not to try to talk to the breeders, so they just sat and waited. It didn’t take long.
The door at the far end opened and fourteen young to middle-aged men, all dressed in Craftsmen’s robes, entered. There was a brief dash as those in front ran to the most attractive women, while those in back seemed resigned to accept whoever was left.
When everyone had been partnered up, they sat nervously, waiting for Syminton or his son to come in and check the pairings. Each man and woman had their characteristics carefully charted. While a certain amount of random breeding was allowed, even encouraged, Jenya had been taught that it would not do to have a Craftsman, for example, with poor number skills, mate with a breeder who had exhibited similarly weak skills.
Mirdar checked their character sheets as he walked among them and occasionally made a switch, much to the disappointment of one man or another. To the breeders, it seemed to make little difference. All of the women were in prime breeding age, between nineteen and twenty-six, and all were currently ovulating. According to what Jenya had been taught, they also hadn’t been allowed to pleasure themselves for several suns.
In other words, she thought with a giggle, they were ready for the men’s hard cocks.
Jenya pressed her face between the bars and took in the scene. She had heard about what went on here and now waited expectantly to see it. She felt funny inside and didn’t know why.
Her eyes roamed over the pairs, finally settling on one couple in particular. The Craftsman had a kind face and the woman was pretty. She called them Allnal and Ceptar, after the names she had given her dolls when she had been younger.
“You may begin,” Mirdar said and left the room.
“No talking,” Lady Margeld whispered to her charges. The girls didn’t need to be told—as one, they focused their attention on the action below.
The men all began removing their tunics. A few of the girls gasped when their turgid cocks sprang free from their breeches. Some of the Craftsmen looked up and smiled briefly at the girls. Jenya smiled back; other girls hid their faces. The men otherwise ignored them—it was bad form to pay too much attention to the young virgins.
The breeders all sank back on their mats and spread their legs wide, knees up. Jenya watched as if this technique was something rare to behold, something passed down from generation to generation. Later she would learn that it was simply the most convenient method of reproduction.
Some of the men jumped right in between the women’s legs and began thrusting themselves into them. Others, Jenya saw—the handsome couple included—took their time. Allnal, the breeder she’d named, lay back, but reached down between her knees to stroke the man’s chest. Ceptar, in return, leaned over to kiss and play with her breasts.
By Rand, this was odd! Why spend time with her milk sacs when she wasn’t nursing? Did he not know? Jenya stared. Watching him kiss her made her stomach tingle again.
He continued to kiss her breasts, and now Jenya could see his hand drift down to touch the downy slit between her legs. He moved his fingers there. Jenya looked closely and remembered something the Lady had said during a lecture: Breeders who weren’t belled often needed to get wet there to make it easier for their master’s cocks to enter. Then she showed them a few techniques to accomplish this quickly and they had practiced it on themselves.
Yes, on themselves—but never had they allowed another person to touch them like that! Yet the woman seemed to be enjoying it. It had felt good, Jenya remembered. Maybe it felt better if you could just lie back and let someone else do all the work!
Ceptar alternated between Allnal’s breasts and then moved up to her face. Now what? Then she noticed that the position allowed his cock to swing closer to her breeding entrance. Then Ceptar kissed the Allnal on the lips. Lady Margeld had told the girls about this, but had cautioned them that Damon would probably not kiss them in the same way they’d kiss Noblewomen.
“The breeding occurs here,” she had said, pointing to the vee between Jelar’s legs. The girl had “volunteered” to stand before the class as a living display. No doubt, Jenya remembered thinking, because she had the biggest breasts among the young virgins. “Your master may kiss you here and here,” she had continued, using the pointer to tap Jelar’s breasts, “but he’s mainly interested in your breeding passage. Keep that in mind.”
Margeld had also warned them about some of the strange habits of Damon. “For example,” she told them, “sometimes a Damon lord will elect to use your mouth or your rear passage, rather than your breeding channel, just for variety’s sake.”
The girls had all giggled at the thought of wasted seed.
“Or,” she had continued, “a lord may ‘loan’ a slave to a higher-ranking Damon or priest for breeding. This could be an attempt to bring favor on his house by raising a more desirable child or it could simply be the repayment of some debt.”
Margeld’s instructions echoed in her head as Jenya had watched the lovers below. Ceptar reached down with one hand and steered his large cock into Allnal. The breeder, surprisingly, reached down and helped him. Their hands touched around his member. He smiled and moved his hips. Jenya could see the head of his cock disappear into her.
Jenya squeezed her legs again, but what she really wanted to do was touch herself—”Down There”. No, she thought giggling, Lady Margeld had insisted they call it certain names, names the lords like to hear. Cunt, yes, that was one. Pussy. And she encouraged them to use the really naughty word, Fuck. She had made them say it. “Fuck, Fuck,” and the entire class dissolved into giggles as they repeated it with her.
She watched, fascinated, as Ceptar’s cock slipped in and out of Allnal’s pussy. Cunt. Fuck. She held her fingers to her lips to stifle her laughter. Allnal’s face had an expectant expression, as if Ceptar was about to tell her something important. Her eyes were open wide. Her hands rested on his shoulders. Her legs remained spread wide, her knees up.
She made noises in her throat. Noises that Jenya could hardly hear over the others in similar throes. In fact, looking around the room, she observed many hips in blurred motion, many expectant faces. There seemed to be a lot of similarity in this breeding experience.
Jenya heard a shout, then another one. Her eyes tracked from one climaxing couple to another one before returning to Ceptar and Allnal, still riding strong. She could see the muscles in his arms cording, his ne
ck flaring. How much longer could he press into her—no, fuck her—like that?
Suddenly, with a roar, Ceptar drew up tight against Allnal and held still. Only the muscles around his ass seemed to twitch. Jenya wasn’t sure what had happened, but she suspected it was what the Lady had told them about. “When a man launches his seed into a breeder, he often pushes in hard and squirts in a small amount of fluid that makes the babies.”
When the men were done and the breeders lay back, exhausted, Lady Margeld led the them out. “On the morrow, we’ll talk about what we observed this sun,” she said, looking a little flushed. “Now it’s time for bed.”
That night, Jenya heard many of the girls making almost inaudible groans. The girl next to her had her jaws clamped onto her pillow as her sheets wiggled near her waist. Jenya suspected what they were doing, but did not attempt it herself. She was confused by what she had seen.
Since that sun, she had come to know just how fortunate she was. To be selected by a Damon! She must be valuable indeed! The plainest, strongest women were kept to breed Warriors, and more refined were saved for Craftsmen and Merchants. Only the cream of the crop were reserved for Damons.
From age ten on, she had risen to the top of the hierarchy in the slave community. Now she was here and determined to fulfill her duty. She wanted this man to be successful and have many fine babies.
She lay back and opened herself to her new master. Her legs shook with anticipation.
Lord Rydah stared at her nubile body, so full of promise, and began to remove his clothes. His cock already strained against his breeches.
He quickly freed it and delighted in seeing her eyes widen at the sight. She licked her lips nervously. That reminded Rydah that Damon slaves were trained in all kinds of pleasure. He would have to partake in that pleasure later—tonight he only wanted to take her, quickly and deeply.
Lord of Avalon Page 3