Decima Rising

by Jennifer Campbell

  Soon Decima walked through the corridors to the Great Hall her nipple-clamped breasts swaying for Jomar’s amusement while her anus squished out his seed. Decima smiled slyly as a plan of action blossomed in her mind. Perhaps, I can still have the last laugh on Jomar.

  Decima Rising

  Chapter Two

  The Great Hall, or as Allus called it, the Hall of Flesh, had doors of thick, black-wood from the Kabora tree. The doors bore the seal of his office which showed giant hawthon birds, now quite extinct, flying over the mountains of Abundacium. In times long passed, the predatory birds would swoop down on people, Master and slave alike, and carry them off to a brutal death. In this capacity the giant birds represented messengers of death sent from the Four, the male gods of the Empire. As she’d been trained, Decima fell to her knees pressing her face to the stone floor as Jomar opened the heavy doors. From this supplicant position, she heard her Master’s voice.

  “Come, my lovely Decima, attend me. We have only these suns and the upcoming moons to spend together before you go off to fulfill your destiny.” Allus was a trim, energetic man, short of stature but still vital in his older age. Decima knew he could still fill and pump and slave girl’s hole with authority. Although his hair had whitened, and his skin gone leathery, Decima still trembled to his touch.

  “Thank you most kindly, Master. This slave hopes to serve well.” Decima intoned in a loud voice because Allus had trained her to be proud to be his slave. She crawled forward on hands and knees expecting to follow him about on his daily duties as a pet might, but was shocked at his next command.

  “Rise, Decima, and walk beside me with your hand in mine. No crawling on your knees on these suns; your training has earned you a place beside me.”

  Rising hesitantly, Decima took his offered hand but was instantly feeling strange to be standing beside her Master rather than kneeling or bowing. Looking about the hall, she noted the long banquet table, but her eyes were as usual distracted by the living décor of the Hall of Flesh. Ten nude slave girls, five to a side, hung from the walls of the long room. The girls were all hung like ornaments, with metal bars holding their wrists and ankles wide apart. The wrist bars hung from stout metal hooks, while the ankle bars were secured to the wall. They hung at least the height of three Master’s high above the floor, and each girl-ornament was impaled on a wooden phallus sticking up from her ankle bar. To assure they felt no sexual pleasure their clitoral bulbs were severely clamped to prevent engorgement.

  The girl-ornaments had been made functional too. Each mouth was gagged with a bit rising from the mouth and holding a ring of six candles. The slave’s heads were pulled back slightly to allow for the candle wax to drip slowly onto breasts and bellies providing more exquisite torment.

  Decima knew all these girl ornaments were common household slaves, as it was deemed a waste of a pleasure slave to subject her to such menial duty. What she wasn’t sure of was the nature of the task for them. Is this punishment for household slaves or merely a duty rotated around? For pleasure slaves, whose duties are almost totally sexual in nature, it would be exquisite torture to hang in this way, but do these kitchen, garden, field, and serving slaves view it that way, or as simple service?

  Decima noticed a tall man, with dark brown hair and a resolute look upon his face sitting at the banquet table as they approached. “This is Kellmar, Imperial Inspector General for the eastern provinces, and I wish you to service him as we talk.”

  Bowing quickly to the tall stranger, Decima knew exactly what was expected of her, and she bent forward spreading her long legs to allow Allus access to check her holes.

  On Ranexx it was considered good manners between Masters for a man to check his slave for cleanliness before he gave her to another man to use. Decima knew this, and had hoped it would occur for she knew Allus would find Jomar’s semen in her asshole. First she felt his fingers slip into her cunt, and then move upward to probe her rear hole, where they suddenly stopped.

  “Jomar, did you use this slave?”

  Jomar fidgeted in his position by the large doors, as he knew Allus normally knew everything going on in his home. “Yes, Sir, I did.”

  “And you saw fit to leave my finest pleasure slave soiled in her ass when you brought her to me?” Allus’ voice rose in indignation at his head keeper’s grievous mistake.

  “Yes, Sir, I didn’t think.”

  “Yes, well that seems to be a theme with you, and it seems obvious to me that being a head keeper is quite beyond you. Return to you duties as a field overseer on the next suns, and feel free to leave the field wenches with unclean assholes. On your way out, inform Dracmus he is now head keeper.”

  Decima didn’t know if Jomar caught her mischievous smile as he hung his head and left the Hall of Flesh, but she hoped so. She knew his embarrassment was complete being caught by a lowly slave girl. She had no reason now to fear his wrath.

  As much as Decima had enjoyed Jomar comeuppance, she squealed as her Master’s hand slapped her behind as the doors closed after Jomar. It was a signal to be about her duties, so she went to her knees and crawled under the banquet table where Kellmar was seated. Despite the fact of him being a complete stranger to her, she executed as a trained pleasure slave slipping her hand under his tunic to retrieve his manhood.

  “Tell me, Kellmar, what exactly is the situation on the north end of the Wall. Is Victrannius ready to proceed with our plan? Time grows short and the longer we delay, the more danger there is.”

  Decima had no particular interest in their conversation as she busied herself licking and sucking Kellmar to full erection. Swirling her tongue on the sensitive underside of the now rigid shaft, she did listen absentmindedly to what the Master’s said. More than their conversation, she had to remain attentive for her Master’s voice of command to her, as pleasure slaves were sometimes used as loaded sexual weapons. If Master were to order it, I would bite off Kellmar’s organ, rather than making it spurt.

  “Victrannius insists he needs more men, to do as planned. He has three legions under his command, but the enemy will have many more when the time comes. He says his strategic and tactical skill cannot surmount the difference unless his force is doubled. Plus every day barbarian raids and skirmishes deplete his numbers. I told him we must keep the troops we have in the west there to surprise and surround the enemy when the time is ripe, so I am at a loss as to how we get Victrannius his additional troops.” Kellmar groaned at the oral ministrations to his cock, and Allus smiled at the pleasure his slave was giving the emissary.

  Decima was now bouncing her head on the turgid shaft, making the delightful gurgle of swallowed saliva that Masters longed to hear from the throats of pleasure slaves. She could make Kellmar climax at any time now, so she must soon back off and simply keep him near the razor’s edge of spending. Just like my orgasm, it is for Master to decide when Kellmar comes.

  Recovering his wits, Kellmar asked. “Can Victrannius ask the Emperor for more troops, claiming he has barbarian troubles, Governor?”

  “No, that would never work. The Emperor is too careful about placing too many troops under the command of one general. More troops, what does the man think, I’m a miracle worker?” Now Allus paused, as inspiration struck him.

  “There is only one way this can happen, but it is casting the die, and if we do it we must be ready to move immediately. If the Emperor discovers it . . .” His voice trailed off, as if it were too dangerous to say it.

  “What way do you speak of?” Kellmar looked at the Governor and then his eyes got wide, partially from Decima’s slavish sucking, and partially from his realization of Allus’ gamble. “The militia, you’re going to send the militia east, aren’t you?”

  “Three out of four of mine, Kaldu’s, and Nebeon’s will march three suns from now.”

  “If the Emperor gets wind of it,” Kellmar warned.

  Allus paused, drawing in a deep breath. “Desperate times, my friend, but don’t worry, Marcus Flavius is no
t his father’s son, far from it.” Allus waited for further comment from Kellmar, but the officer just groaned at the swelling pleasure in his loins. Allus addressed the source of his joy.

  “Go ahead, Decima, taste his seed.”

  Unable to respond verbally, Decima nonetheless obeyed, feeling the warm come squirt in her throat. Why would Master speak ill of the Emperor?

  * * * *

  Now it was late in the suns, and Decima felt the arousal building in her body from Allus touching and fondling her intimate places all suns long. Her sexual tension peaked, she hoped for a release when Allus called his work day done.

  “Another suns work completed, Decima. Come and walk with me to the training room for your surprise.”

  Taking her Master’s arm, Decima let excitement mingle with her sexual arousal. I think Master will miss me, despite his many other beautiful pleasure slaves. It still felt so strange, almost unnatural; to walk beside him through the corridors. Perhaps sensing her unease, Allus asked her a question.

  “What do you see as the single most important attribute needed to become an imperial?”

  Allus was not in the habit of asking slave’s questions of no importance to him, so Decima knew she needed to know the answer to this. Not wishing to make him wait, she answered with the first thing entering her mind. “Acceptance of my service, Master, knowing I am but a tool of a Master’s pleasure.”

  Allus smiled, thinking now could he say no to such a sublimely submissive thought. “Yes, that is important, but it is not the most important thing. Any other thoughts, pretty one?”

  Decima considered, her brain searching for what facet of her lessons he saw as most important. Oh, yes, I remember how he stressed loyalty. “Loyalty, Master, a slave must honor her Master above all others.” Decima waited, tense with anticipation, as to whether her answer was what he wished to hear.

  “Yours is an excellent response, and quite true, but not the most important. I’m not surprised you don’t know, Decima, as you are a natural submissive, so you have barely touched your potential. Your nature is such that you can bring a single-minded focus on your goal to the palace. You have all the tools, Decima, to rise up and be consort to the Emperor, but you must focus to become an unstoppable force. Let no one stand in your way, slave or Master. My final gift to you will help you achieve this focus you must have.”

  For the first time in her training, Decima understood the grandness of her Master’s plan for her. He expects me to become consort, to bear a future Emperor if my child is male. Decima understood she was a pawn in her Master’s power games, but she had no choice but to obey and serve. Can I really be consort to the Emperor?

  Allus pushed open the door to the training room, and took Decima’s arm to escort her. The naked pleasure slave walking arm in arm with Allus garnered strange looks from Dracmus and Tolar, not to mention her sister slaves. What must they think of me?

  When looking upon her fellow pleasure slaves, Decima saw an astounding sight. All assembled in a row standing on their feet, but with their bodies bent backward, their hands supporting them in a backwards bend. All the girl’s legs were spread wide and in their exposed slits each held the stems of a bouquet of bright, white orrocha flowers. They all appeared to have bright, blooming, white clefts that looked lovely next to their straining, quivering thighs and jiggling breasts.

  Decima’s eyes quickly found Claretta, her crotch a lily, white blossom of flowers, and she wished she could rush to her lover right now. At a sudden clap of Allus’ hands her sisters recited in unison to her. “To our sister, Decima, who is to leave us with new suns, we offer these flowers, and ourselves, so that she may remember we once served together. A slave must follow where service leads her, but we will always remember being sister slave to Decima.”

  Tears flooded Decima’s eyes at the sight of such a moving display by those she shared her servitude with. Ranexxian slave girls would make new friends all their lives, but would leave most of them behind as they moved from Master to Master with no control over their lives. That was why this ceremony was so important to them, as they cherished the relationships between those they served with.

  “Well done, my pets, exactly as I desired. You see how you have brought your sister to tears. She misses you already, but perhaps one of you will prove worthy to follow in her footsteps.”

  Decima considered her Master’s words and smiled. Yes, that is a way I might see Claretta again, if she too becomes an imperial.

  “Now is playtime for my pets, a full bell for you to enjoy your bodies and climax at your leisure to honor Decima. You choose first, my future imperial consort, with whom do you wish to play.”

  Briefly, Decima wondered how a bell of sex with her sister slaves would improve her focus, but she was so anxious to taste Claretta’s sweetness she did not question Allus.

  Shaking with anticipation, Decima dropped to her knees crawling to Claretta’s nude form. Reaching Claretta’s flower-filled gash, she sunk her teeth into the fragile stems, gnashing and ripping them out of her lover’s moist hole. Now a sexual animal, she became fixed upon sucking and licking the Claretta’s exposed pinkness, eating up her lover, even if it were for the last time.

  With the orrocha flowers strewn over the floor, Decima continued to pleasure her lover with her face and the electric contact made Claretta let loose a wild sigh of delight. Was there anything better than being sexually attacked by your slave lover?

  Decima’s tongue rutted like a tiny cock in Claretta’s wet hole, as the girl’s juices ran all over her mouth, lips, and chin. Working with increasingly wild passion, she sensed the time was right by Claretta’s breathy moans. Taking Claretta’s swollen pleasure bulb completely into her mouth, Decima stabbed a trio of fingers into her slave lover’s sopping gash. Sucking with an unrestrained fury on Claretta’s clit which had now swollen to the size of a small penis, Decima felt her lover’s thighs begin to quiver against her.

  Decima watched in silent satisfaction as Claretta screamed out her climax, and collapsed, writhing in ecstasy on the stone floor. Pushing herself on top of Claretta, Decima pressed her naked warmth to her sister, to savor the throes of the orgasm she might never feel again.

  * * * *

  The bell of pure pleasure seemed to pass too soon for the eleven slave girls, but they would always have the memories. Soon Allus and three keepers, Dracmus, Tolar, and a new face gathered beside them and wrists were cuffed behind backs again.

  “Now I will present you with the gift of focus, Decima. I felt strongly you had a slave lover, despite the forbidden nature of such a relationship; I just needed you to confirm who it was. Tolar, take Claretta and execute the orders I gave you.” Tolar and the new keeper grabbed Claretta roughly and began dragging her away making Decima scream.

  I have betrayed her, betrayed our love. Execute, does he mean to execute her right her and now. No, please. Decima was about to plead with her Master when she was usurped by an unexpected ally.

  Dracmus, who believe Claretta had imprinted on him, pleaded for the life of slave girl he had expected to someday be his. “No, please, Governor, let me buy her, take her away, but please don’t kill her.”

  The other two keepers were fastening Claretta’s wrists and ankles to metal bars that were attached by chains to the ceiling, and Decima wondered what horrible method of execution awaited her lover. She knew death was always possible for slave’s found to be in love, as on Ranexx it was seen as a betrayal of their male Masters.

  “Kill her, Dracmus, what makes you think I’m going to kill her? How would that improve Decima’s focus? No, she won’t die, at least not today.”

  Both Decima and Dracmus breathed a sigh of relief. Being a male and allowed to question what was happening Dracmus asked. “Then what is to become of her, your lordship?”

  “She will continue to serve, of course, but in a different way. She will become Decima’s motivation.”

  Decima watched in horror as the keepers clamped heavy weig
hts to the nipples of the already cuffed Claretta. Her nude body was already spread in an X shape between the two metal bars that ran parallel to the floor, Claretta let out a groan of agony as the weights pulled her breasts down. The keepers did the same thing with her still moist labia lips, stretching them cruelly, and lastly with her still engorged clit-bulb, making Claretta scream as it to was clamped with hard metal.

  Is this perhaps worse than death, this hell he’s putting her into. Decima was distraught, but had no choice but to watch and perhaps learn what Allus intended for her lover.

  Now Tolar cranked up the chains that held the bars raising Claretta up with them in a suspended X her intimate areas writhing under the torturous clamps. Having been suspended for punishments before, Decima knew it only added to the aching discomfort she already felt. When Claretta reached the height of two Masters off the floor, Allus spoke explaining everything in the cold, calculated tones of a master strategist.

  “Decima, do not be so sad. Your Claretta will remain there very safe indeed. As you can see no one can even touch her. She will hang as she is now, until we here in Abundacium receive word that you have both become an imperial, and been marked by an imperial official as his personal slave. You might think being marked precludes becoming consort to the Emperor, but that is not so as the Emperor at one time or another will sample all his imperials. It is then that you must make your mark. Once we here your happy tidings Claretta will be released and given as a gift from me to Dracmus. So you see, you will never see her again, but if you care for her, and I suspect you do, you must succeed, or eventually she’ll die up there.” Allus’ tone was final, it had been decided, and Decima knew she could not change his mind, but she needed to know one thing.

  “Master, this slave is told the journey to the palace will take six suns. Will Claretta at least get food and water so she can survive that long? If not she may be dead before this slave arrives at the palace.”