Leah's Punishment

by Aran Ashe

  'Where is he?' she demanded of Kapler.

  'He looked drugged – in a daze.'

  'Drugged? Where is he?'

  'He said he had to go after that girl, the one from the boat.'

  8

  Breast Training

  While Ean, still abed in his mistress's mansion, was beginning to awaken from the potion that Lauren had administered to him, far away aboard Merek's boat all had fallen quiet and calm. Leah's punishment had lasted a long time but her unwavering submission had earned her absolution of a kind and Merek at last became gentle with her.

  'I've dismissed Asgal,' he whispered. 'I blame him more than you.' He wiped her tears with the tip of the sheet. Leah tried to reach up to kiss him but she could move only her head: after the whipping, Merek had trussed her like a bundle on the bed, with her knees drawn up and each wrist bound to the corresponding ankle. 'There . . . like meat for public sale . . .,' he had sneered; such contempt had lashed her far more cruelly than the whipping.

  Then, shuddering and gasping, she had felt the freezing clyster nosing into her body at the front, where she was already so swollen from the sexual punishment. He said that he would not have her becoming pregnant by those stable-hands; Leah pleaded that no seed had got inside there but Merek did not believe her. Her virgin's chains tinkled against the barrel of the clyster. Her back hollowed deeply when she felt the pressure of the fluid in her womb. He made her come like that. He pulled her nipples as if he were milking her, 'like a heifer,' he said. The distension from the instrument made her clitoris protrude. When he nipped and kiss-taunted its tip, her pleasure came – so strongly that a small pulse of ejaculate squirted and it almost felt to her as if the fluid from the clyster was extruding through her pee-hole. But it was her own come, and Merek became very excited and fell to playing with her like that. Only a little more fluid came. He left her in that state and must have gone to deal with Asgal, for when he returned there was a calmness in his expression and it seemed that Leah was forgiven.

  He took hold of the instrument and started to withdraw it from her sex. 'Let the muscle relax,' he chided gently. 'It acts too swiftly and too strongly; it is too ardent in its clinging. And though I love it, it must learn to obey.' Leah whimpered through the kiss he gave her; she too felt full of love, full of giving, but after the horsehair and the whipping she could not help the tightness. Merek persisted, gently increasing the traction. Her bottom lifted from the bed. His lips gently stifled her gasps until the instrument slid free. The stretched, tortured walls of Leah's inner flesh collapsed, and she felt the warm unguent gushing from inside her, flooding the bed, wetting her back. Merek shook his head. 'Don't mind the mess – look at me, Leah – kiss . . . There . . . It is for your preservation that I do these things to you. No babies . . .' Still trussed, she could barely move, so he lay close against her. She managed to kiss his neck and felt warm inside; the ache of that dreadful stretching was now a throbbing pleasure; her nipples still tingled from the pulling they had suffered. Gently he forced her bent knees outwards, pinning her tethered arms, exposing her sex. 'There – like a beautiful butterfly now . . .,' he whispered.

  Merek had said from the outset that he would stretch Leah's body open at the front because, being newly broken, she was so narrow there. At first she had been frightened because it meant she would be different from the girl she once was, and that would feel strange; but now it felt nice: her inner flesh was acutely sensitised to being touched up there, far up past the broken membrane. Merek examined her again by touch. As his fingertips explored the broken membrane, caressed its ragged edges, probed deeper, Merek kissed her. As the kiss continued he stretched her open and held her thus. He told her that she was his oyster and that her clitoris was the pearl. Then he kissed her pearl until it protruded from its fleshy surround. He brought salve, which he applied very gently to each of the most prominent of the livid streaks that the horsehair had put on her belly and groin and breasts.

  Then very carefully he turned his butterfly over on her front, splayed wide, against the warm wetness of the sheet and, putting his thumb up inside her, pushed her pearl out from behind. 'Don't tighten your bottom when I do this,' he reproved her gently. Then, with his thumb still inside her sex, pushing down and forwards, he leant across and penetrated her bottom with his penis, his burning rigid flesh going deeper, up and back, stirring soft sucking sounds in the semen trapped inside her from before.

  In laboured whispers in her ear he asked her again what the other men had done with her. As she tried to tell him as truthfully as she was able, she felt her bottom opening out inside, accommodating the beautiful pleasure of that bedded glans, rocking back and forth, moistly kissing the tender walls of flesh inside her. His thumb kept probing inside her sex, pressing her pearl of pleasure into the slippery wet sheet. When his fingers tried to join the thumb, her sex went into spasm around them. Her climax triggered his. She felt his hot semen squirting deep inside her, stimulating her where the cap of his penis could not reach; she felt the pearl of her clitoris jerking, drowning, pressed into the little foaming pool of her issue.

  Afterwards Merek unfastened her, stretched her legs, turned her on to her back and rubbed the tender, punished muscles of her inner thighs. Then he made her spread while he opened her sex with his thumbs. He asked her whether the men had administered something to her to make her come so wetly. Leah shook her head, anxious that her making fluid this way might be considered wrong. Gently, inquiringly, Merek's fingers returned to touch the foamy flecks of issue. Though she enjoyed the touching, she was tense about his wariness. His penis was half swollen and she wanted to caress it but was afraid to make a move. He asked again about what exactly the two men had done – what touchings, penetrations and the like. He asked if she had enjoyed what they did.

  'I thought I was there by my master's will – by your will, master.'

  'That was not my question.' His expression was unforgiving.

  Leah was now so torn by emotion that she could not answer.

  Then he said: 'Did you have them both inside you at once?'

  'No! It was not like that . . .' Yet it was almost like that – the raw desire that she had experienced with the two men – one of whom had at least shown some kindness. Leah reached up to try to caress Merek. The hard edge of his gaze seemed to soften as he looked at her. Then he said:

  'The merchant that I put you to the other night – he said something about your breasts, the way that they are swelling more in the middle, puffy round the nipples. He told me that training could enhance that particular shaping.'

  'Training . . . ?' Leah whispered anxiously.

  'Don't look so frightened. Here . . . Let me hold you.'

  Next morning, Merek had a special leather halter cut for his slave's breasts, with holes wide enough only for her nipples and their velvet surrounds. At the final stage of fitting, Leah stood bare-bottomed in the saddler's workshop while Merek removed her shirt completely and the saddler fitted the halter. 'Hold your arms up,' Merek instructed her. Leah's nipples came erect as the saddler's fingers trembled; she murmured when the halter was tightened. The middle part of each breast was free to extrude through the narrow circular gap while the rest of the breast was constrained and flattened. Merek then stood in front of Leah and made her spread her legs. He lifted her chin. Then quite deliberately, in the saddler's presence, he masturbated her gently. 'Tighter,' he told the man and kept playing with her between the legs. The saddler nervously tightened the halter. Leah murmured with the constriction and the sexual touching; her nipples protruded a little more. 'Tighter,' Merek said again. He had got her clitoris standing hard.

  'They won't come any more,' the saddler protested shakily.

  'They must. Please do as I say.' Merek stopped touching Leah.

  Shaking his head, the saddler tremblingly oiled the surrounds of her nipples to help them squeeze through the gap. Then, as the straps bit in to her ribcage, she felt her nipples slowly extruding more. And suddenly
she closed her eyes: that was the moment she needed to be touched, for she could feel their trembling projecting weight swelling against the delicious tightness of the nipple-skin; so distended were they that the slightest movement made them shake. When no touch came, Leah opened her eyes and beheld Merek, now strangely agitated, just staring at her transformation in aroused awe. Then gently he reached for those fleshy engorgements, clutching their puffiness with timid fingertips. 'They're truly heifer's teats now,' he murmured in fascination.

  He took her there and then, bent forward across the work-table, clutching her newly sculpted teats, even as the saddler was watching. Merek's thrusts, deep within Leah's belly, kept lifting her heels from the floor. He made her come by thrusting: the masturbation had prepared her; then her teats' brushing the leather topped table was the trigger. Leah gasped out loud, her liquid pleasure sprinkling its silver beads across the leather tracery of the saddler's table.

  During subsequent days Merek kept this training halter on Leah almost all of the time, except while she was sleeping. Gradually her breasts developed their new, elongated shape. Their erect fleshy columns, extending almost a hand's-breadth from her ribcage, felt alien to Leah and bestowed unfamiliar sensations and strange pleasures wherever they were touched or sucked. Merek liked to watch the way she lay in bed, doubly self-conscious with the halter gone, not knowing where to put these breasts, unable to get used to their shape. But the removal of the device became an interlude of deep sensuality for Leah.

  The unfastening would be so slow and gentle that every soft tiny skin-hair came erect. Her cheek lay on the pillow; her eyes stayed closed. She would feel her master's breath against her cheek; his lips would kiss her eyelids; her shoulders would feel deliciously naked as the freed straps were lifted away. And he would kiss there too – with small tickles of his tongue-tip in the furrows transecting her shoulders. The strap would fall forward; the kiss would progress under her arm; the halter would be gently prised away from her breast and the first tubule of captive flesh unthreaded. The tight constraining ring of leather, sliding up this narrow tubule, would cause a deep sucking pleasure, gently propelling the swell to the teat, and the feeling would come, as if fluid were being expressed through her nipple, and she would look down at herself in trembling awe in case that should happen. Then her eyes would close again as the leather ring came free and Merek gently grasped her naked tubule in his hand and squeezed it. But the only fluid that came out of Leah was that expressed by arousal between her legs. Merek would paint this about her labia and sometimes he would taste it. His tasting of her moistened sex would always make his penis very hard and Leah would try to touch it.

  Merek would remove her halter completely, freeing the other breast, and make her lie naked on her back across the bed with her head and arms overhanging. Her breasts would stand like fat pink fleshy columns which he would then take individually into his mouth and suck upon, while Leah sucked his penis. The deeper she tried to take his shaft, the deeper he would take her breast. When she felt his lips against her chest and the tip of her nipple touching the back of his throat and her other nipple brushing his ear lobe, and his swollen penis filling her throat, with her lips pressed up against his sac – reaching, craving even deeper oral penetration – the weight of pleasure between her legs was delicious.

  Merek liked to ejaculate on her breasts and coat them with his semen. 'They look like twin cocks that have come,' he once whispered to her. Leah, her chin tucked in, watched the white oily warmth trickling down them. His fingers would chase the dribbles back to the tips of her nipples and rub the length of each breast as if it were a shaft that he was masturbating. He made her come that way, with one hand gently frotting the slippery breast and the other between her legs, by turns slowly milking her clitoris then rotating the slippery tips of his fingers very firmly against it. At the point of climax, the end of Leah's stimulated breast swelled like a glans, and when he sucked it – just the tip – her clitoris simply bucked against the slow steady screwing pressure of those finger tips.

  During the day, Merek kept the halter on her with her breasts poking through. When she was on deck, there would always be men looking at her, either from the wharfs or from other boats. Merek seemed to want her to be the centre of attention. In part Leah enjoyed it too. Sometimes she would look with secret longing at one or another of these men; occasionally her heart would leap. If Merek sensed this he would take her below deck and use her, meanwhile asking her what she felt about the man who had caught her attention. The questioning inevitably led him back to the details of what she had done with the two men in the bedroom of the lodge; then dark jealousy would again hold sway.

  It came to a head one fateful and beautiful day after Leah had returned an admirer's gaze. Merek ominously docked the boat. 'Go below. Make ready,' he growled, his eyes shining with cruel fervour. Leah glanced back with a dread heart-surge when she saw that Merek had called the stranger over and was inviting him on board. Her belly quaked with fear-taut arousal as she crept down the stairs.

  She could not stop her limbs trembling. A helpless giddiness gripped her; her breathing was quick, shallow and strained; already the tingling sensations kissed her lips, her ear lobes, the tips of her fingers, her constrained nipples, the flesh between her legs and the undersides of her toes. She turned round, stood against the table and watched the stairs in expectant, silent, sinking, frantic fear.

  The new master had kind eyes; he was strong but looked gentle, which was what had attracted Leah. He was a little younger than Merek. His dark eyes scanned the room then returned to Leah.

  'She looks frightened,' he said quietly.

  Merek was still on the stairs. 'Take off your halter, Leah,' he said.

  Her nervous fingers fumbled with the fastening, high between her shoulder-blades. The new master was already looking at the naked place between her legs. He whispered to Merek, who nodded, then he came to Leah. He stood in front of her and reached round behind, taking hold of her struggling fingers and caressing them. The way he touched them forced shivers down her spine. Her nipples were erect against his gown. He drew her close and simply held her, supporting her warmly and gently. Leah closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his chest. When she opened her eyes, Merek was still staring from the stairs.

  'Look at me,' the new master whispered. His fingers deftly freed the fastening of her halter. He stood back a little and withdrew it from her breasts – gently where it was tightest. When the looped restraints came free, her breasts shook, and he sighed and looked at her nudity with gentle longing. He put the halter on the table, then picked her up. She hung limply across his arms. 'Where shall I take her?' he asked Merek.

  'Use my cabin.'

  Merek left the lovers undisturbed until sundown. His schedule, already put out by having Leah on board, was now in complete disarray. Asgal had gone and, without a deckhand, arrival would be delayed by more than three days. Girls should always be left on the wharf – that was what the boatmen used to say. Perhaps they were right. But once Leah had been carried across his gangway on that first day, Merek's fate was sealed. No slave – no girl of any kind – could compare to Leah in responsiveness and loving sensuality and limitless desire, and Merek could never let her go. The more he put her to these other men, the more her craving for love deepened. One day, one of these interlopers would surely wrench her away from him, and yet, were he to cloister her now, the beautiful flame of her desire would surely gutter and might die.

  He had watched the way her new lover had carried her – her arms hanging down, her shoulders back, her breasts beautifully erect and shaking. Then Merek had spent time on deck, with jealousy gnawing at him – at the thought of this younger man, abed with his slave – until he had finally found some excuse for going back down.

  The door to his cabin remained ajar; standing back in the shadows, Merek, now a tormented voyeur, peered inside and saw his young slave on tiptoes at the side of the bed, leaning across her lover's pron
e body, her breasts pendant, her lips locked about his erection, her fingers between her legs. She was playing with herself as she was holding him in her mouth and he was coming and she was drinking his fluid as fast as it came and her legs were trembling from the pleasure of the sucking and from the fingering that she was giving herself. Merek crept back on deck and sat in tortured silence. He could have curtailed this tryst and the visitor could have had no cause for complaint – in fact he would have had cause only for thanks for the generous privilege he had been granted – but none of this was about the visitor.

  An hour at least must have passed before Merek heard a sound. At first he thought it was the stranger coming up from below deck but when no one appeared he went round to the port side. The wharf was devoid of people; the only voices came from the tavern that lay at a distance. Then a noise came from near the rear of the boat. Merek quietly moved aft then crept below to check the steersman's quarters: perhaps Asgal was attempting a return after his precipitate eviction. But he found no sign of anyone. Once Merek had satisfied himself that nothing seemed out of place, he returned to the deck and to his sombre musing, but kept a watchful eye. Another hour passed before the stranger appeared on deck, alone and a little dishevelled in his gown.

  'She's asking for you,' the man offered shyly.

  Merek nodded. 'A drink before you go . . . ?'

  'Thank you, but no.' The man hesitated, showing no sign of wanting to go. Then he ventured: 'She is very beautiful. Are you staying here long? No? Then would you consider . . . ?'

  'Consider what?'

  'Selling . . . For a solid offer . . . ? She would be well looked after, I promise you that.'

  'No – but I shall tell her of your kindness.'

  The man now looked shifty.

  Merek uttered what he had guessed: 'You have already told her of your aspiration?'

  The man nodded anxiously.

  'I understand. No umbrage taken . . .' Merek offered his hand, not curtly, but clearly wishing to bring the interchange to a close. When the man was gone Merek spent another few minutes in quiet consideration then went below.